Advice to my Teenage Self.

I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself an adult, but I definitely know a lot more about life than I did when I was a teenager.  If time travel was a thing, and I had access to it, and it wasn’t dangerous, and going back in time didn’t mess up the future, I would have some solid advice to give my teenage self.

Molly – Stop being so mad at your parents.  You are their second child, their first daughter.  They have no idea what they’re doing.  They might seem like they do, but they don’t.  They’re trying to do their best to raise you better than their parents raised them, and it’s only natural that they fuck up from time to time.  They push you so hard because they want what’s best for you – They want you to have the things they never did.  At the same time, don’t let them make you feel guilty.  You are your own person and you DO NOT have to agree with everything they say.  You can have your own opinions, but for God’s sake, respect theirs too.

Secondly – Be kind.  The people you think are ‘uncool’ or ‘weird’ are just different.  You don’t have to be their best friend, you just need to understand that they have their own shit going on, and you being dismissive or ignorant towards them is not going to help that. Smile, say hello, ask how they are and listen to their answer – You could have more in common than you think.

Third – Be yourself.  Sometimes it’s necessary to change how you act around people (eg. I know you think swearing is natural but people are offended by it.  Reign it in from time to time) but don’t ever pretend to be something you’re not.  Don’t pretend to like a band because some boy you fancy does.  Don’t lie about your age on the internet.

Fourth – Listen in class.  Education is the most important thing you can have.  It will broaden your horizons and make you more acceptant of people.  If you have all the facts, you see both sides of an argument and will stress a lot less over feeling like you need to pick a side.

Fifth – Fuckboys are a thing.  If a particular guy only wants to be with you when you’re at a party and he’s drunk, but won’t answer your texts during the week – He’s a fuckboy.  Respect yourself.  If a guy talks to another girl and admits later it was to make you jealous – He’s a fuckboy.  If a guy makes you feel insecure, instead of helping you attain a positive image of yourself- He’s a fuckboy and only cares about himself.  If a guy pulls you out of bed and drags you down the stairs because he’s mad – Not only is he a fuckboy, but he’s also an abusive cunt.  You do not have to waste your time and energy on boys who treat you like an object.  And if your heart hurts because of a break up – I can 100% guarantee you will feel better about it in six months (providing you draw a line under the relationship)

Sixth – How you look does not define you.  How you act and what you do is what people will remember.  Sure it’s OK to be proud of your appearance, but don’t let it be the centre of your universe.  Stop counting calories.  This will lead not only to issues that you will spend the rest of your life dealing with, but also decisions which will be the biggest regrets of your life.

Seventh – For the love of God, I know you don’t have much money, but please, please, if you’re going to wear leggings, invest in a pair that you can’t see your pants through.

Eighth – Everything’s gonna be OK.

Mental Health, Why I Blog and John Cena.

Thanks to everyone who got in touch on last weeks post.  I expected to get more than three questions, but I guess I was being pretty big headed thinking more people would be interested in my life.  Awh well. There you are confidence – take another punch in the gut.

 If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

If you asked me this when I was aged anywhere between 15 and 20, I would have had a never ending list of physical things I wanted to change.  I wouldn’t be as tall, I’d be thinner, my hair would be longer, my boobs would be bigger, I would have a six pack.  And why?  I wanted to make girls jealous and boys horny.  Although I’m not yet completely at one with accepting my appearance, I realise, it doesn’t matter.  There will always be someone on this earth who finds you ugly.  But also someone who finds you beautiful.

What I would change is my mind.  I’d get rid of the crushing anxiety.  I wish I could be more positive and outgoing.  I wish I didn’t have an eating disorder and body dysmorphia.  I wish my mental health was better, I know then that without trying my physical health would improve too. I wish I was 100% happy and confident all the time – That way, I wouldn’t make bad choices or have this often overwhelming negative image of myself.

What led you to start a blog?

I thought this question would be the easiest to answer, but I’ve been sitting here staring at it for the past 15 minutes wondering where to start.  I began writing a year ago because I wanted to be a vlogger.  If you’re unfamiliar with this term, it’s basically filming your life and sharing it online.  However, I wasn’t ready to face the impending criticism that comes along with vlogging, so I started writing instead.

I wanted to write to vent, to share my story, to appeal to others, to inspire and to entertain.  I wanted people to tell me that everything was going to be OK, because sometimes, I am really not OK.  In turn, I wanted people to feel that their struggle is not their own.  No one’s life is perfect – Sometimes it’s not even good – But fuck it, we can float on together.

I have always adored writing, and honestly – It’s the one thing I think I’m good at.

If you could have a billboard anywhere, what would it say and where would it be?

Thanks to John Cena for sending in this question last week.  I guess the only thing I have to promote is this blog, so it’d probably be a pretty simplistic design advertising MollysBook.  And it would be in an episode of Family Guy or The Simpsons, because that’s the only place where I ever read billboards.

I Need You!

Well butter me up and call me a biscuit, it’s been a whole freaking year since I started old bloggy here.

Seeing as I’ve been providing you all with such hilarious and thought provoking content once a week(ish) for a full 12 months, I wanted to know – Is there anything you’d like to ask me?

So the comment section on this post (and all other posts) is anonymous. You don’t have to be a member of WordPress to comment, so please feel free to ask whatever your heart desires.  If you don’t mind letting me know your name, you can also get in touch via various social media platforms (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter).

This could be a complete flop and/or total nightmare, but I mean it when I say; Ask me anything.  Dirty, clean, embarrassing, controversial, political, ethical, stupid, intellectual… Other various adjectives – I will answer them.

Next week’s blog is up to you.

Things That Need to Leave.

Avocados need to leave.  Stop being pretentious, creamy, disgusting mush.  You’re not a substitute for butter, you’re not good with eggs, you feel weird in my mouth, you’re only ever over or under ripe, and you have to go.

Zoos need to leave.  Ever went to a zoo as an adult and felt happy?  Maybe it’s because I’ve been researching veganism (and they’re all pretty mental), but lately, I can’t ever imagine why I ever enjoyed a zoo.  If people think animals don’t have emotions, go to a zoo.  These are creatures in environments that they were never supposed to be in.  And for those who say – ‘They don’t know any better’ – Maybe they don’t, but why does that matter? Zoos need to leave.

Ghosts need to leave.  They need to leave reality.  Ghosts don’t exist.  They exist in movies, but in real life, ghosts are born from over active imaginations and tricks of the eye.  A ghost is not going to visit me and tell me I’m wrong about this.  Buildings are not haunted, the dead don’t leave their spirit behind, a Physic can’t tell your future and angels aren’t watching you.

Donald Trump needs to leave.  That blonde-haired, racist, homophobic, chauvinistic, idiotic, money grabbing, small minded pig of a man not only needs to leave, he needs to get the fuck out.  I’m not interested in his politics or policies, or his self-absorbed idea to “make America great again”, he is a backwards thinking piece of shit that needs to pack up his things and leave.

Money needs to leave.  Money is like the person who comes into your house and doesn’t take off their coat or sit down because they don’t wanna stay too long.  I’ve had enough of it.  I either have loads of it for a second, or none of it for a year, and either way I’m not happy.  The past year I have spent struggling to make it to the end of the month, constantly having to borrow off my fiancé (hehehe that’s the first time I’ve referred to him as fiancé) or my parents, and it makes me feel really scummy.  Yes, I could be better at spending but I really love make-up, drinking and food. Money needs to come in and sit down and leave when I tell  it to.

Decisions need to leave.  I am officially the worst person ever at making a decision.  How am I going to go about planning a wedding?  I’m so afraid of offending someone or someone disagreeing with me, that I’d rather just not try at all.  The one decision I’ve made about the wedding so far?  I’m definitely marrying Gareth.  And there will be no avocados served, no animals exploited, no ghosts, no Donald Trump and no money spent.

 

Just kidding, there is going to be so much money spent.

 

 

I’m Not a Feminist But…

In the wake of International Women’s Day which was on the 8th of March, I do realise I’m a little late to the party, but on the back of last week’s blog I wanted to enlighten you all about how I feel being a woman in 2016.

So if you read last week’s post you’ll know I had an altercation with a bit of a scumbag who abused his position of work to contact me with inappropriate messages. I recently read a post from a FB friend who went through a load of legal shit because some asshole thought it would be funny to show her his penis.  I’m not going to go on about how all men are pigs (because they’re not) however, my old Sociology teacher will be happy to know that I’ve embraced my inner feminist for this post. There are some differences between men and women that I am no longer OK with.

I don’t think it’s OK to make sexist jokes.  I do need to explain this one, because I’m not calling for an outright ban on jokes that poke fun at women.  I have openly laughed at all the ‘Kitchen Sink’ and ‘Why do women have boobs?’ jokes, but this depends on who delivers them and how.  I know my Boyfriend well enough to know he’s not being serious if he makes a sexist joke.  Mum will know I’ll laugh if she makes a joke about inequality.  However, if I met you for the first time five minutes ago and you ask me; “Why do women make better soldiers?” I will have to restrain myself from punching you in the face, because I know the punch-line is; “Because they can bleed for a week and not die.” 

This brings me onto my next point.  (WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT) I don’t think it’s OK that men will never feel period pain. I’ve talked about this with my Boyfriend and he’s replied with something along the lines of, “Well you’ve never got hit in the balls.” But I just don’t see how these things can be compared.  I don’t know if every woman goes through what I do each month (because it’s a weird taboo subject to discuss), but for the first few days leading up to the actual show, I’m incredibly irrational.  I feel fat, ugly, angry, excited, suicidal, horny, magical, sick, bloated, happy, thrilled, depressed.  I feel emotions that don’t have labels.  Then when my actual period arrives, I feel like my uterus has been sawed apart, stitched back together with barbed wire, by an unlicensed doctor in an alleyway with a rusty needle. And I’m uncontrollably leaking blood. And I have to be embarrassed in tescos buying ‘lady products’. And my back hurts.  And I have to get up in the middle of the night.  And it smells weird.  And for some reason, I’m not supposed to talk about it. For 5 days.  All this so we can squeeze a person’s head out of our vage?  And yeah, it is fucking gross but this is once a fucking month for 30 odd years, so honestly, I think I would rather be kicked in the balls.

I don’t think it’s OK that women are expected to smell good all the time.  I’ve never been one for perfume, and the only reason I wear deodorant is so that I don’t sweat.  I’m not dissing nice smelling things, but when did smell get sexist?  Why is there a man’s fragrance and a women’s fragrance?  Surely if you think it smells nice, you should wear it. So what if it’s blue? This applies to men too.  You like the smell of strawberries?  Who doesn’t! No one is going to call you out for smelling like a fucking dream.  And if they do, that’s OK too because that’s their opinion and they’re entitled to have it.  You’re entitled to disagree.  That’s how life works.

Lastly, because this is becoming a bit too ranty for my liking, I don’t think it’s OK that women’s eyebrows are so important.  I love doing and wearing make-up, but what is with this recent obsession with eyebrows?  Why have I become so obsessed with them? Why do I look at other girls and feel JEALOUS of the hair above their eyes?  That hair is there to stop sweat from dripping off your forehead and clouding your vision! And yet I feel like Picasso if I manage to do them well.  Why do I have to have works of art when men can just have natural sweat-defenders?

Being a woman is pretty uncool.

Life Update: Moving Forwards

There hasn’t been any earth shattering changes since I wrote ‘Fresh Starts‘ or ‘Friends Required‘  but it would be untrue to say that these posts haven’t slightly changed things my life.

When I wrote Fresh Starts I  was emerging from a pretty bad place. I spoke about mindfulness and being grateful for what I have.  This didn’t come easy to me, and still doesn’t, but I find myself caring a lot less about material things.  In the last few months of 2015, I became more and more obsessed with things I couldn’t have. We couldn’t afford a new apartment, I couldn’t afford nice beauty products, to paint the house or buy new clothes.  It drove me insane. Everyone around me seemed to have it all.  When I finally came to realise that that doesn’t matter, I saw everything clearer.  These material things will come eventually, and even if they don’t, I’m beginning to learn that there are better feelings than that of possession.

The feedback on both blogs was extremely positive.  I had almost given up writing in December and am so truly glad now that I endured.  It’s worth it on a night out when someone from your past says “Oh my God, I love your blog” or “I read it all the time”. Only if it’s one person, I still think; “Someone actually reads what I have to say!” I’ve never felt pride when I bought a new foundation.  I’ve never been satisfied because I bought a new dress three days ago.  I have, however, felt these things because I chose to write.

Friends Required had more of an impact.  The strangest thing is, I almost wasn’t going to
publish this because I thought it came across that I wanted to be pitied.  I want
to thank the people who got in touch because they felt the same way.  It took a lot of balls to tell someone you don’t really know that you’re not entirely happy with your life.  Again, this feeling of acceptance and shared emotion is far superior to any new lipstick.  People should reach out and be unafraid, because those that reached out to me changed my life a little bit more.

I met up with an old friend a few weeks back, and I was so nervous before I was desperately looking for an excuse to cancel. I was getting irrationally irritated at myself for making plans, saying I wished I had had a ‘bed day’ instead, because I hadn’t had one in a while.  I almost didn’t answer the door when he finally arrived. I’m pleased to say that once we hung out for about 5 minutes it was as if nothing had changed.  We talked about the past and things we used to think were funny (still hilarious), we talked about new things and how being a grown-up is surreal.  It was the same, but different. When he left, I felt as though I had achieved an award.

I’m still totally terrified when it comes to meeting new people, but at least now I’m excited about it.  I want to go out and see a movie with a friend, because I want that confidence again. There’s always going to be an initial awkward moment but after you move past it, it’s nothing more than mutual interests and shared experiences.

This being said, I haven’t transformed into this totally different person. I still have days where I feel like scum, but these are less now. I’m not the confident, forgiving, inspirational person I would like to be, but I think I’m getting there.

Things that Drive me Mildly Insane.

 

Let’s face it; most of us will never be 100% sane. In a weird way, I’m kinda proud of being a bit ‘cookie’.  There’s something endearing about a weirdo.

This being said, there are some small tribulations in life that push me closer into the realm of complete nutjob.  

My first one is to do with breakfast.  I pretty much always have porridge and banana for breakfast but every-so often, if I’m not completely starving, I’ll boil some eggs and have eggs on toast. What drives me mildly insane about having eggs on toast, is when you get those shitty eggs that you can’t peel.  Bear with me, because this is kind of difficult to explain.  You have to have experienced the shitty egg before you can really grasp how irritating this is.  Most of the time, when you peel an egg you crack the shell and get that silky skin underneath.  This helps lift the hard shell off.  Sometimes the egg white sticks to the shell and you spend an inappropriate amount of time going around the egg trying to find the silky skin so you can get the shell off easily, in big pieces. If you get a shitty egg, you end up losing most of the white, which, albeit may not the best part – but I don’t want to be short changed.  I want the egg to toast ratio to be equal. 

On a similar note, and equally as strange, are oranges.  I generally like oranges, but it drives me mad when I spend a lot of time peeling one, only to find it tastes like total dirt.  It’s not the taste that annoys me; it’s the effort I made getting there.

I know that most people find rude people irritating.  I also know that people are entitled to be rude, as everyone has bad days where even the sight of another person makes you want to scratch their eyes out.  I understand.  However, if you are employed in a job where most of your day is spent dealing with the public, you should not be rude.  It’s OK to be angry, but it’s not OK to be cruel.  I went to an orthodontist a few years ago, she had a receptionist who was the meanest person I’ve ever met.  My Mum and I would walk into the reception and she wouldn’t even look up to greet us.  That’s basic human behaviour. So we stand there for a good five minutes she asked us if we had an appointment.  Of course I have an appointment; you booked it for me last week. I’d been coming there for a year or more and she was still pretending not to know my name.  She was rude to everyone, like they were doing her a great disservice for needing braces. Everyone who spoke to her had that WhatTheHellDidIDo face. How did she even get that job? What happened in your life that makes you hate people that much? To this day, I regret not standing up for myself.  She’s still driving me mildly insane.

Next, I know I talk a lot about how much I love my dog, because I really really do.  However, he can really annoy me. Is this what it’s like to have children?  Like, you love them but have flashes of rage where you actually have to stop yourself from strangling them?  I would never ever hurt Barney, but when he chases his tail or eats my make-up brushes, or barks insistently at absolutely nothing, I can physically feel anger rising inside me.  I’ve found myself screaming at him things like “JUST STOP BEING BOLD!” or “WHY BARNEY WHY?!”. I had a friend over last week (oooh friend) and he thought the chasing the tail was funny for about 30 seconds then said “Yeah I can see this getting annoying”

The last thing that has driven me mildly insane this week has been the general reaction to Stephen Fry’s ‘Bag Lady’ comment at the BAFTAs.  I read comments about him being sexist, ignorant, judgemental, disgusting, rude… The list goes on.  Stephen Fry has had to deal with a lot in the past.  His comments were about a personal friend who, let’s face it, was dressed like the pigeon lady in Home Alone – should not be something he has to answer to.  

There are real villains in this world like dirt oranges, cruel people, untrained dogs and shitty eggs. Stephen Fry is a hero.

Advice from St Valentine

As we all know, the most important day of the entire year is coming up.  Valentines’ Day! This is the day that our partner is absolutely obliged to spend the most amount of money on us, the day that our minds are finally read and our dreams come true.

If you are single, this blog is not for you.  You shouldn’t even be clicking something with the word ‘Valentine’ in the title.  You should be at home alone with your cats, were you belong forever because no one likes you.

I’m gonna start off with some advice for men because obviously they need it most –

1. If it doesn’t cost money, do not give it to her.  If you haven’t spent your hard earned money on something, it’s not worth our time.
2. If it’s not pink, red, or have hearts on it, your girlfriend will not like it.
3. All females like chocolate, so no matter how many times they tell you they’re on a diet, you must buy it for them.  Women love feeling terrible about themselves and going to the gym.
4. If you really love your other half, you will get the biggest, most expensive card in the shop.  Ensure you get this from Hallmark or Urban Outfitters – Tesco cards will not do.  
5. Get a ridiculously large teddy – Every female out there loves big, elaborate, mortifying gifts.  Please do not make the mistake of giving it to us in the privacy of our own home.  You must give it to us in the most public setting you can fathom.  Middle of the shopping centre?  Perfect.
6. Send flowers to work.  We all love when we get the phone call from the front office saying that there’s a gift for us.  The only thing we love more than getting the call is carrying the flowers back to our desk.
7. Buy us a holiday.  Expect to pay for everything on said holiday because YOU bought it for US, and that’s included in the present.
8. Take us shopping.  Tell us to get whatever we want.  Do not dare make a face when you see the bill at Karl Lagerfeld.
9. Make a bath filled with rose petals.  Every girl on the planet loves the smell of roses and has time for a bath in the middle of the day.
10. If all else fails – Propose with the most expensive ring you cannot afford.  Bitches love weddings.

Advice for girls –

1.  If you make it through the day, you must make him a sandwich the very next day.  If he doesn’t follow the above steps – End it. Thems the rules for happiness.

 

 

P.S – JK.

 

 

 

 

Friends Required: Apply Within

 

I have always been terrible at making friends.  When I first started school, I hated the other children so much that I insisted I stayed with Mrs Fegan, the cleaner.  She tactically convinced me into painting something one day, and when I turned my back she had sneaked away to get on with her duties.  I cried for the rest of the day.  I was shit at being a child.

Remember the Wendy house in the corner of the classroom that every school had?  I was extremely intimidated by other girls and the friendships they had so easily formed, so I didn’t step foot in the Wendy house till my Mum was late one day and all the other pupils had left.  My brother Harry played with me while my Mum and Mrs O’Connor talked. He stole a plastic onion and we laughed all the way home.

I did have friends eventually, but not until I was around 10.  These are happy memories, but I distinctly remember spending all or most of my time trying to impress them.  I was (and admittedly still am) extremely needy and over-protective, so if someone even indicated they were trying to steal my best friend, they were going down.  I’m not proud to say I was a bit of a bully in my final year of primary school.

The tables really turned in secondary school.  I learned the hard way that being a teenage girl is just the worst.  I had formed group of new ‘best friends’ who dumped me out of the blue one day because they just didn’t want me around anymore. Poof.  I was sitting there one day, offering up my gummy strawberries, and the next thing I know I’m at the back of the classroom alone and crying again.  It didn’t end there though, because they insisted on harassing me on MSN messenger and via text.  One girl in particular was relentless.  I’m not going to name names but lets’ call her Cunty McCunterson.  If anyone treated my sisters the way that she treated me, there is no doubt I would have the police involved. Can you tell I’m still bitter?  Yeah, I’m still bitter.

Fast forward a few years, to when I really was happy.  Truly happy.  I had friends that I loved and I thought I was set for life.  I still had issues with trust, but I finally felt like I could be myself. They meant more to me than my family.  In the end, I relied on them so much I took advantage of them and eventually they left me too. I blamed them for abandoning me, telling myself that if they had of loved me, they would have stayed.  I realise now that they actually gave me loads of chances to be a better friend, and I fucked each one up entirely.  I was never a bad person, I just made some really bad choices.

I told myself for a long time that I was better off alone.  I shut off from everyone and was drifting through life with the mantra that I didn’t care about anyone, and I eventually stopped caring about myself too.  Some people scraped the surface and made me feel like my old self (shout out to my sister, KD, KOH and JC) but in the end I knew I would let them down too.  So I shut them out as well.

*Cue violins* When I met Gareth, a part of me changed.  I wanted to do things differently. So I did. From the very beginning he meant something more to me, so I told him everything; what I had done and who I had let down, why I hated myself as a person and why I felt everyone hated me.  I told him I wanted to change and he believed me. For the first time in a long time he reminded me what it was like not to be so alone.

Being a newly reformed 24 year old is not ideal for making friends.  It’s not like school where you’re socially forced to talk to people.  The thought of voluntarily entering a communal situation like a yoga class or asking someone out on a girl-date is more horrifying than that first day of Primary School.  Truth is, I have no idea how to make friends any more. I wish it was as easy as messaging someone and saying “Hey you seem cool, wanna hang out?” But I’m nervous around girls.  I laugh at my own jokes and create awkward silences. I pretend to be cool and pretty when really; I haven’t showered in a week.  I run away from conversation but get jealous if you have other friends.  

 

The changes I’ve been trying to make this year have influenced this blog.  I need positive people around me.  Everyone is worthy of friends, and I need to stop being so scared of having them.

How to Win at Scrabble.

This is kind of a step away from my most recent posts.  It’s not actually a tutorial on how to win at Scrabble (sorry), however, it is something that is of great interest to me. Put simply; words.  Words that you didn’t know existed.

I’ve always loved reading.  One thing that I was always good at.  I remember the smug pride when I moved onto Key Stage 5 books in primary school (shout out to Biff, Chip, Floppy, Kipper, Wilf, Wilma, Mum and Dad).  My Mum has always read, and my Dad has always encouraged it, so I grew up with Rohal Dhal, Dick King Smith, R.L Stein, C.S Lewis, Tolkin, Peter V Brett, Patrick Rothfuss and my absolute hero JK Rowling.

Despite in the past having read up to 6 or 7 books per annum, within the last few years my reading pattern has dwindled.  This is partly down to not having too much on my mind and/or lack of concentration.  Mostly I blame technology *shakes fist*.  Sometimes I could spend an hour on Pinterest or YouTube rather than reading, but once I start a book, I’m always reminded how (for me) it is the ultimate escape.

Reading is the only time I’ll ever look up the meaning of a word.  If I see something in a book that I don’t know the definition of, I’ll look it up.  I really enjoy the feeling of knowing stuff, so in this blog, I’ve found some cool words that you might like to whip out in conversation in order to confuse everyone around you.

Philtrum – This is the little groove below your nose and above your upper lip.  How to use in conversation; “I stroke my philtrum when I’m thinking.”

Ferrule – The metal part on the bottom of a pencil. How to use; “My flipping ferrule flew off my pencil”

Mondegreen – A misheard lyric.  Eg, in Taylor Swift’s song ‘Blank Space’ I always thought the lyrics were “Got a list of Starbucks lovers” when it’s actually “Got a long list of ex-lovers”.  What a fucking mondegreen.

Tittle – This is the dot over an I or a J.  How cool is that?!

Bibble – Nothing to do with punctuation, it’s actually the noise you make when you’re a noisy eater.

Misophonia – The fear of specific noises.  Like cutting cardboard or eating Wotsits.

Trypophobia – The fear of irregular sized holes.  Google Image Search.  I might have this.

Zarf – This is the cardboard sleeve which protects your hand from searing hot take-away coffee.  How to use “If I can’t have a zarf can I at least have another cup?”

Frisson – The sudden feeling of excitement.  I used to always get this feeling before I went out.  It’s kinda like shivers, but some people also refer to it as having some one walk over their grave.  In future if you hear someone say this you can respond “No you dumb shit that was a frisson, duh.”

Glabella – The space between your eyebrows, just above your nose.  In a sentence; “I have a splitting pain behind my glabella”  HAHA!  No will know what you’re on about!

Dysania – I was shocked that this word isn’t used more often.  Dysania is the feeling you get in the morning when you are physically and emotionally struggling to get out of bed.

Jentacular – This comes after dysania.  It’s wanting breakfast as soon as you manage to get out of bed.

Wamble – Finally, this is the sound your stomach makes when it grumbles.  “Give me food, the wambles are getting out of hand.”  (Not sure if that’s correct use of the term)

Isn’t learning fun!?

To conclude, I just wanted to touch on what I’ve been harping on about in my previous bloggies – mindfulness and wellbeing. The reason I’ve started to read and learn a bit more is to aid my mental health.  I can’t stress enough how important it is to take time to do something for yourself, even if it is just learning the meaning of a new word.  A new word can start a conversation with a stranger, teach you something you may never have known and encourage you to go on and learn something else.

You have control over your kismet.  (Look it up)