Mates, Flakes and Long Distance Lols.

Recently a friend told me a little anecdote which I really agreed with, and helped inspire this post on something I’ve been meaning to write about for a while. The story went (if I remember it correctly) that there are three types of friends in life:
1. Those that you are friends with due to a situation. You’ll be friends with them within the situation but the friendship doesn’t span outside of this.
2. Friends that you make within a situation and the friendship lasts around three years.
3. Friends you have for life.

I guess when I moved away to university I was naïve about the fact I genuinely wouldn’t see some people again, I was probably too caught up in the excitement of change to realise it at the time. However, moving to university has made me really appreciate those friends who you are genuinely close to and know will always be around, whether or not you talk every day. It seems sad to lose friends in the number 2 category, but as you grow up I guess you realise everybody changes and people lead very different lives; add your own cliché here about ‘living for the moment’ ha!

I’ve always been a firm believer that distance shouldn’t ruin a true friendship and university has certainly tested this theory! In a way it sorts the friends in the second category to the ones in the third. I’ve touched upon friends from home already, but it’s great when you don’t have to necessarily talk every day, but you know when you need them they’ll be there and when you do see each other it’s the same as it always was. There’s something amazing you can’t lose when you can look back at your ‘ugly phase’ and laugh together!

There’s also something amazing you can’t lose with your friends at uni, in a totally different way, you somehow end up becoming each other’s second family; particularly those who you live with. Or you may just become their carer, as with me and AJP:

Alastair Leaving

I was blissfully unaware that at the end of second year these rocks in my life would be ripped away. The demon of the dreaded placement year or study abroad or whatever other name you would like to call it. Many of my friends were now set to be flying off to various parts of the world, leaving the rest of us back here to continue to cry at how frigging depressing uni (and third year) is. The end of summer felt like one long emotional goodbye. In particular, my non-boyfriend whom I’ve mentioned before, AJP, was leaving for America. I’m not even ashamed to admit that on his official leaving night we both cried, no sorry bawled, in a club when I had to leave. Hilariously, we were actually going to see each other again the next day. Obviously I was just so sad that I was losing the best cockblock I’ve ever had? Upon the actual departing of AJP, we decided the best way to go was a chest bump in the middle of Liverpool Street Station.

Considering how big a part of my life AJP is, I was slightly scared of what London would hold for me without him. There have obviously been times when I’ve missed him a lot, but at the same time it’s made me appreciate the lols when we do speak. It’s that great time where you don’t have to put up with his smelly socks everyday but you still get to share many a lol. The internet is a wonderful thing, and Skype, Whatsapp, Facebook and obviously Snapchat have all been amazing to stay in touch with everyone. I am also a fan of good old snail mail and send out postcards when I actually remember to pass a postbox. My flatmate said that this sounded like a ‘Dear John…’ idea, but it is definitely less romantic than she was imagining, considering some of the funny postcards I’ve sent, the meaning of the lovely sentiments on them have had to be explained to the Americans! When I turned up to a pastoral type tutorial the other day, my tutor hilariously bluntly asked me ‘How are you coping without your other half?’. I’ve said this to lots of people who ask if I miss AJP, I feel like he’s still here but without actually seeing him.

Obviously life is different in London without AJP around, but it definitely isn’t all bad. I’m not crying in a cave all day, every day. I need to put a shout out in here to everyone at uni who make the times I do actually turn up to the depressing hell hole (yeah, I’m loving uni right now) actually bearable, my lovely flatmate and, of course, I don’t know where I’d be without my main galdem, who get me through life with some hilarious snapchats!


To round off this rambling post, if you have long distance friends of any kind, then I guess my thoughts are that it makes you appreciate the time you have with them more, look how happy I am on Skype ha! On an even brighter note, think of all the amazing holidays where you don’t have to pay for a hotel!


Thoughtful SJW, over and out x


I’ve just had one of them days.

Last week just was not that snazzy in the land of SJW. I mean, my house wasn’t destroyed by a tornado or anything on that scale but I had my share of first world problems. It brightened up towards the end of the week, and I have to say to all you lovely readers out there who commented on my last post, you da best.

You can now prepare yourself for a (slightly censored) ‘Dear Diary’ of the last week.

I woke up 6 minutes before the start of my lecture… and again three hours later as it finished. I think that is a sign of how my week went, it just didn’t. I told myself I would make the seminar that day, but no, I was so busy doing shit all that I ended up not being ready in time. I made the heroic decision to stay at home and make some good food and all would be well in the world. Of course this wasn’t the case. Upon merrily walking down the stairs, whilst carrying the bag of rubbish I was taking out, I tripped. In one of those slow motion life moments, I tried to grab the wall and stop myself, but no, there I was tumbling down the staircase, bag of rubbish tumbling round with me. I found myself at the bottom, bag of rubbish still in hand, just in shock at what happened. I wish I’d taken this moment to snapchat the state I was in, but your imagination will have to do… I proceeded to half shout and swear which then erupted into shock laughter. And by laughter, I mean full on cackle. At this point, it occurred to me that the other people in the building could probably hear the commotion, so I swiftly picked myself up and walked to the front door like absolutely nothing had happened. I just had to walk round Sainsbury’s with a bleeding hand like ‘Nothing weird here folks’.

All I have to say on Tuesday is a quote from my Twitter feed, ‘One of these days I will make it to a lecture. I guess today I was one step closer and actually made it to the building? #oops’. I was late, I wasn’t feeling it, so I took my library books and paid £10 fines. (Sorry Mum).

Mistake 2 of the day: stopping off in Topshop. One of the tops I bought I thought was orange … turns out when I got home it was definitely tomato red. I want to blame the lighting in the store but I’m scared for my eyesight, I haven’t been to Specsavers in a while. Safe to say, the top was swiftly returned.

I think it was a shock to the entire world when I did eventually make it to a lecture, albeit 10 minutes late. I’m pretty sure my body would sleep through my entire life if it could. Need to stock up on my ladyvitamins (that’s multivitamins plus iron to all you non laydeez). The most ridiculous thing to happen to me that day? Happily pushing the revolving door around to get out my uni building, I suddenly hear a big thump and as I get round to the actual opening to get out the doors, the girl stood there turns round gives me a full on death stare and drops the C-bomb at me with absolutely no qualms about it. I soon realised that she had got to the opening but not totally stepped out the door so the door had hit her as I’d pushed it round. I genuinely cracked up! Number 1: what kind of plonker doesn’t step out a revolving door!? Number 2: dropping the C-bomb is just plain rude. Honestly love, if you’re reading this then apologies but Jesus, calm your violent use of swear words!

The rest of my week consisted of dissertation work which I’m definitely not in any way ready to laugh about and, to end this on a high, wacking out some of my best worst fluffy pj’s seeing as it’s somehow turned arctic out there!




Ways To Survive Deadline Week.

Last week I became surgically attached to my swivel chair and barely left the house due to an impending deadline. I hand wrote this post to distract myself and I’ve only just felt okay with going anywhere near my laptop to post it.

In the middle of deadline chaos, I received a phone call from my mum, starting with a barrage of questions going something like this; ‘How’s it going? Have you slept? Have you eaten? Have you left the house? Have you even showered?!!’
My honest answer? ‘At least I’ve been eating well?’. Come on, we’ve all been there, in the dark depths of deadline, it’s currently 7pm, I’m still in my PJ’s, haven’t left the house for two days and I’m surrounded by bits of paper. In my breaks, i.e. when I take time to stare out the window, I’ve considered the best ways to make it through deadline week and here are my best tips:

1. Eat. Eat like a king.
Snack, take regular meal breaks, really, just eat until the point that you’ll obese by the time you hand in. Food is the cure for everything, my friends. My flatmate even came home earlier, asked me how I was and took one look at the pile of dishes and said ‘Well… at least you’ve been eating well!’.

2. Clean anything you can find.
For me, this only applies to specific areas of the house. My bedroom becomes a tip, but the kitchen becomes spotless. That aforementioned pile of dishes is no more. (Okay, maybe only until the next meal break).

3. Snapchat the shit out of boredom.
Work always drives me to be a bit mental and I’ve been told my snapchats have been of particular high quality during those moments, I’ll let you judge for yourself below. Also, even if you continually send ‘I want to throw myself off a cliff’ type snaps, your friends may get bored but it’s a good piece of entertainment for you.

Snapchat-20131104030815  Snapchat-20131107125615 1383577582382 Snapchat-20131111061621

4. Ring your parents.
This might just apply to me, but this week each time I’ve rung either of my parents it has given me the lols / inspiration to help me continue.

Papa SJW, who goes for the inspiration angle:
‘You don’t half work hard when it comes down to it’ (he was so proud, what a cutie)
and my particular favourite: ‘I can see you becoming the next Richard Branson’.

Momma SJW, pure lols here: ‘Well maybe I’ll come visit you for Valentine’s Day, now your sweetheart has moved to New York’. HOW MANY TIMES, MUM! My best friend is not my boyfriend. He’s also not a particular fan of the female form…

5. Have a good supply of pj’s / comfy clothes
Nothing worse than running low on pj’s over deadline week. Live in them and be proud about it, after all, you’re working your tits off. Who has time to get dressed?

6. Position your desk near a window.
No, I’m not going all feng shui on you, the entertainment out my window has been incredible at getting me through work. Just the other day I witnessed a smooth drug deal involving throwing the packet from a bike into an awaiting open car window. Nothing says drama and excitement more than a drug deal!

7. Get a hilarious flatmate.
Last year deadline weeks involved ice cube fights indoors, 3AM pizza breaks and rants / crying about life. This year, my current flatmate entertains me with her quotes of the day, highlights have included:
My flatmate accidentally washing up her mug with a sponge I’d used to clean the toilet…
Her doubting what I was doing when I said I was shutting the door of my bedroom to do my typing… I’m not sure what else she suspected I was doing? (Any ideas please post them to me on the back of a postcard.)
‘It’s just a dog-eat-dog world when it comes to library books’.

8. Finally, get your landlord to knock on your door to tell you there’s been a break in.
Okay, so this probably can’t be staged, but yes, my deadline week consisted of this. DRAMAAAA. It’s quite a funny story really, we went from pooping our pants that someone was going to break in at any moment and frantically locking the windows, to finding out the suspect open skylight had just been opened by the fire precaution button in the corridor. Oopsy Daisy.

I’ve finished on a ridiculous number, but hey ho, hope it helped you procrastinate. Good luck to those of you out there also struggling through deadlines. You can do it.




So last night was Halloween, and I’m not going to lie, I’m not the world’s biggest fan of the spooky activities, mainly for one reason; fancy dress. I hate it. I’m not creative enough to make it look amazingly good and I just feel like a bit of a pleb surrounded by people who have gone all out and still manage to look incredible. I still have nightmares of when I had to make a crown in primary school and mine ended up being a bit of cardboard haphazardly covered in tin foil… Safe to say I didn’t win any prizes that day. Apart from maybe one for ‘effort’ cause everyone felt sorry for me.
I also slightly despise the fact it also turns out to be expensive when let’s not lie, I’d much rather just buy some clothes I actually want.

However, boring complaining over, I had a house party to go to and I felt the pressure to not pretend to be that hipster idiot that goes as ‘themself’. I started the search for my outfit on Thursday optimistically late in the day, all I needed was some white face paint, how hard could that be?! Devil child was the ambition and alright, I just as well had gone as a slutty cat in terms of originality. Trucking down Oxford Street, which when you live in London is no treat, to all the tourists reading this (LOL) just move outta my way! Places to be, people to see. I decided to head to that heavenly place for 12 year olds… Claire’s Accessories. Strong. I was wrong about the sure bet they’d sell face paint but if I’d wanted neon striped handwarmers, a charm bracelet and a 1D rucksack then this was obviously the place to be!

Keeping the story short, I ended up in WH Smith (another shop of dreams) and stumbled upon inspiration.


Yes, your eyes do not deceive you, I bought a Dennis the Menace magazine with a free ‘Turbo Stinger’. If you hadn’t noticed already, I’m a massive child at heart and I have no shame about it.

The plan? Dennis the Menace’s female counterpart Minnie the Minx! After losing the will to live in Primark (visited all the shops of dreams in one day!), my outfit was complete.


Taaa Daaaaaaaahhhhh!

I was actually pretty proud of my effort, considering my previous fancy dress attempts. Now for the embarrassing bus journey to my friend’s house. Considering it was actually Halloween I expected to see the majority of people also in fancy dress. Oh hell no. Is Hackney too hipster for fancy dress these days!? So there I was, sitting on the bus, looking like a freak, feeling slightly ashamed with everyone else just carrying on life as normal. Nice one SJW.

I had a cracking night (albeit the imminent threat of a 9am lecture) and look how cool my friend’s house looked!


I sent pictures of Minnie to my Dad today, and he replied saying ‘That’s SCARY! AAAAAAhhhhhh!!!’. Gotta love his enthusiasm. I also love the image of him showing my pictures to the rest of the office like a proud parent, ahaha!