It is no great sweeping statement when I say that most girls just don't get football. Football players, yes, but the sport itself... Not so much. Obviously not every female out there is footie-illiterate, the same way not all blokes make daily declarations of love and adoration for their team but facts are facts; women and football tend to go down about as well and tomato ketchup on ice cream. Ew.
I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. I support a team, I dislike our rivals, I pay attention to our scores and position in the league, in theory I understand the offside rule and I know that an own goal is worse than owning a fake Louis Vuitton. I should know more, considering I've grown up in a football mad household where even my childhood best friend will be caught off guard singing QPR chants and given than my Dad has worked for various football clubs over the past God knows how many years, but truth be told sport was never really my thing. Unless you classify Westfield White City as a race track, in which case, I'm a 60 time Gold Medalist.
In roughly 3 hours time, England play Italy, which I'm sure you all know unless you've been living under a rock for the past 2 weeks. I love it when my two nationalities collide. Obviously, I am team England, I grew up here, I was BORN here, I have an English passport and well, I AM ENGLISH! It drives me mad when friends of mine who are also of both nationalities and have also grown up here ect ect appear to support Italy. Although, I reckon that if it had been my Dad who was the Italian and not my mum, I would probably be one of those annoyances too. None the less, England winning today would be wonderful and yes, would allow me to gloat a little bit towards all the 'FORZZZAAAA ITALIAAAAAA' statuses that I am sure will appear on my newsfeed as the game goes on.
I'm watching the game down at The Bar. It will be full of loud, beer'd up men shouting at the big screen. They can be quite scary in packs. I plan on drinking just enough strawberry cider so that I can retain what information I actually DO know on the sport whilst being able to be slightly more enthusiastic about the game than I would be without the alcohol in my bloodstream. Especially since Beckham isn't on the team anymore (hasn't been for a while, I know) paying attention to the likes of Wayne Rooney and that scumbag John Terry is difficult.
Hence why you will find me, my strawberry cider and my girlie knowledge of football in the corner, very quietly mumbling to myself that the referee is indeed a wanker and humming the tune to 'Vindaloo'.
Happy football!
Sunday 24 June 2012
Sunday 17 June 2012
Two Weeks Back In the Dull
I left Manchester two weeks ago and it's safe to say I miss the city. Villages are great for raising a family or walking the dogs in the peace and quiet, but seeming as I'm doing neither, I think villages are shit. Nothing fun is within walking distance, I can't just nip to the shop or crawl home in the early hours AND there is hardly any eye candy. Humph. I am enjoying spending time with my family though, and not having to do my own washing is quite nice so you know, tit for tat and all that jazz.
I FIT INTO A SIZE 12 PAIR OF RIVER ISLAND HOT PANTS! - Just throwing that good news out there.
Started back at The Bar. This in itself brings up the big thing I will spend my summer trying to work out, untangle and understand, but for now I am none the wiser and stumbling ridiculously in the dark attempting to do what's best for all involved, even if it is not necessarily the outcome I would like. If the situation develops, I will explain further.
At some point this week, possibly Friday I want to go into London and spend the day in Hyde Park, people watching and writing. I simply cannot go back to university without at least a few pieces in my portfolio. I'm seeking inspiration where ever is humanly possibly but keep drawing up blanks.
Booked my flights to Span for August! Unfortch, Barcelona was just too expensive (note to self: a boyfriend would make city breaks far more do-able), therefore I'm going to Valencia to see my Chica for a week, which will be lovely. Valencia is probably my 3rd favorite city in the world, so I can't grumble. Plus it means I'll get to drink my own body weight in Horchata, exciting stuff. Natch I am now on some massive kick to get myself honed and toned, but being back in this crappy little village means I don't have gym membership so I may have to *gulp* go for a run *shudder*. Or you know, just not eat...It seems less painful and well, none of you have actually seen me run so you'll jusrt have to trust me when I say starvation is probably the prettier option.
Obviously, I am KIDDING. I am not going to stave myself nor do I condone anorexia or eating disorders of any kind, I was just painting an image for you all, so you can picture quite how hideous I am when I exercise.
- Hayley xx
I FIT INTO A SIZE 12 PAIR OF RIVER ISLAND HOT PANTS! - Just throwing that good news out there.
Started back at The Bar. This in itself brings up the big thing I will spend my summer trying to work out, untangle and understand, but for now I am none the wiser and stumbling ridiculously in the dark attempting to do what's best for all involved, even if it is not necessarily the outcome I would like. If the situation develops, I will explain further.
At some point this week, possibly Friday I want to go into London and spend the day in Hyde Park, people watching and writing. I simply cannot go back to university without at least a few pieces in my portfolio. I'm seeking inspiration where ever is humanly possibly but keep drawing up blanks.
Booked my flights to Span for August! Unfortch, Barcelona was just too expensive (note to self: a boyfriend would make city breaks far more do-able), therefore I'm going to Valencia to see my Chica for a week, which will be lovely. Valencia is probably my 3rd favorite city in the world, so I can't grumble. Plus it means I'll get to drink my own body weight in Horchata, exciting stuff. Natch I am now on some massive kick to get myself honed and toned, but being back in this crappy little village means I don't have gym membership so I may have to *gulp* go for a run *shudder*. Or you know, just not eat...It seems less painful and well, none of you have actually seen me run so you'll jusrt have to trust me when I say starvation is probably the prettier option.
Obviously, I am KIDDING. I am not going to stave myself nor do I condone anorexia or eating disorders of any kind, I was just painting an image for you all, so you can picture quite how hideous I am when I exercise.
- Hayley xx
Saturday 2 June 2012
The Best Year Of My Life
When I look back over the past 12 months, absolutely everything has changed -I live in a different city, I like different music, I dress differently, I'm no longer completely innocent, I've been on an actual date... You know, the little and the big things that make you, you. Those have all changed.
In September when I left my little south eastern village and moved up north to Manchester, I guess I kind of was running away. Not from anyone in particular, but from everyone, mostly though I think I was running from myself. I needed to go somewhere and start again, I was determined to finally find a place where I actually belonged, where I felt wanted and safe and happy. It's not that I never had these things at home. I'm surrounded by the best family anyone could ever ask for and the small handful of friends I have at home are genuinely some of the most wonderful people I've ever encountered. But it had been a long two years in a sixth form where I never really fit in, and wasn't ever really wanted, I'd started a job that had changed the very fiber of my being and I was drowning in it all I suppose. I was thankful when September 17th came around and I got to leave it all behind...
I walked out of a life where I didn't ever quite fit into a life where everything was just the right size. I knew I needed the city but now, it kind of feels like the city needs me. I am deffo not a country girl and I'm deffo not a Bucks girl either.
I've made the most amazing friends. They're more than friends, they're my family. It seems so strange that we all just got thrown together but it feels like we were all meant to meet. It hasn't been easy, in fact, it's been really testing, but it's been so worth it. I've made A LOT of mistakes this year and yeah, I've done thing I'm not so proud of, but frankly they've just helped me grow. Being surrounded by people who don't judge, or whisper behind your back or mind if you screw up has been refreshing. For the first time in such a long time I can actually say I have a place where I am just; me. There's no front, no hidden depth, I'm just Hayley. The Hayley I tried to be at 6th Form but was secretly hated and the Hayley I tried to be during secondary school but was always just too big to fit right in. I'm so grateful that I've finally been allowed to breath.
Manchester has taught me more in the 9 months I've been here than I learnt throughout my entire previous education. I'm not scared of who I am anymore. I'm not scared of getting hurt or fending for myself. I am so much closer to that independence I so desperately crave and it's all thanks to this rainy city and the beautiful people I've met here.
I can't believe first year is over, that my little flat isn't going to be home anymore or that I won't be just a flight of stairs away from the people I've spent all year with. It's weird to think that come September I'll have to actually start taking my course seriously and maybe read a book or two (I am such a shiteous English student) and that I'll live in a house and that I'll have to get the bus into uni or into work.
I'm so excited though, and as much as I am going to hate being stuck in Bucks all summer, I cannot wait until we get back in the autumn and start all over again.
- Hayley xx
In September when I left my little south eastern village and moved up north to Manchester, I guess I kind of was running away. Not from anyone in particular, but from everyone, mostly though I think I was running from myself. I needed to go somewhere and start again, I was determined to finally find a place where I actually belonged, where I felt wanted and safe and happy. It's not that I never had these things at home. I'm surrounded by the best family anyone could ever ask for and the small handful of friends I have at home are genuinely some of the most wonderful people I've ever encountered. But it had been a long two years in a sixth form where I never really fit in, and wasn't ever really wanted, I'd started a job that had changed the very fiber of my being and I was drowning in it all I suppose. I was thankful when September 17th came around and I got to leave it all behind...
I walked out of a life where I didn't ever quite fit into a life where everything was just the right size. I knew I needed the city but now, it kind of feels like the city needs me. I am deffo not a country girl and I'm deffo not a Bucks girl either.
I've made the most amazing friends. They're more than friends, they're my family. It seems so strange that we all just got thrown together but it feels like we were all meant to meet. It hasn't been easy, in fact, it's been really testing, but it's been so worth it. I've made A LOT of mistakes this year and yeah, I've done thing I'm not so proud of, but frankly they've just helped me grow. Being surrounded by people who don't judge, or whisper behind your back or mind if you screw up has been refreshing. For the first time in such a long time I can actually say I have a place where I am just; me. There's no front, no hidden depth, I'm just Hayley. The Hayley I tried to be at 6th Form but was secretly hated and the Hayley I tried to be during secondary school but was always just too big to fit right in. I'm so grateful that I've finally been allowed to breath.
Manchester has taught me more in the 9 months I've been here than I learnt throughout my entire previous education. I'm not scared of who I am anymore. I'm not scared of getting hurt or fending for myself. I am so much closer to that independence I so desperately crave and it's all thanks to this rainy city and the beautiful people I've met here.
I can't believe first year is over, that my little flat isn't going to be home anymore or that I won't be just a flight of stairs away from the people I've spent all year with. It's weird to think that come September I'll have to actually start taking my course seriously and maybe read a book or two (I am such a shiteous English student) and that I'll live in a house and that I'll have to get the bus into uni or into work.
I'm so excited though, and as much as I am going to hate being stuck in Bucks all summer, I cannot wait until we get back in the autumn and start all over again.
- Hayley xx
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