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.

Barney’s Story Time: Mumi’s Adventur

Lst week mumi came home frm work nice and early nd I said hello hello hello plz pet me hello hello hello oh god hello.  then I was rely rely bored so i decided to bark nd bark and bark and wine nd wine and wine till she let me come in bed nd get under the big fluffy sleepy warm thing and I had a snooze nd it was nice.

Heres me bein cute bfor walk

Mumi made food for her face hole and but none for mine.  she says I’m greddy but she is. she always eatin eatin eatin food and gives none to me evn thouh i know she not evn hungry, she just a piggy.  I see it go in her face hole, where does it go?  smells so gud, i’m hungry.  So after tht I wasn’t gonna snooze for her no more and be a good boy cuz why not, i wanna go outside.

Mumi always takes years to leav the human kennel  she has skin but puts on other layers like coat, hat, sock, shoes that I’m not allowed to eat so i just bite them and chew them and ok i do eat them sometimes sorri.

i got too excited when mumi got the lead because then i knew we were definately going to the magical place wer i can run run run and pee pee pee and poo.  i ran away frm her and she shouted so i decided to let her put the lead on my necklace evn though it choke me i dont care WE’RE GOIN TO THE PARK.

we got to the park and hooray I’M FREE so i run away and smell all the things i can see and I make sure those other dogs know this is my park.  the trick is to pee on everything.  even if you have no pee left in your willy, just lift ur leg and pretend, the other animals will think youve done a pee and will know the park is urs.

mumi was talkin into that little black thing that her and daddi have nd always look at, so i decided to run away and hide.  i could hear mumi shouting my name but i didn’t mind because there was still plenty of things to smell and pee on.  when mumi found me after 1 whole hour, she smacked my bum then picked me up and squished me and kissed me on the head and called me a bold boy but then said i was a good boy, so i was happi and she was too maybe.

we walked back to the human kennel when mumi said, oh fuck where are my keys, and we had to go around to the back where the adventur is.   there’s loads and loads of rubish at the back because the men who make banging noise at 8am always throw tiles and bricks and pallets and stuff over the wall becuz they r too lazy to hire a skip.  mumi tried to kick in the red door to our house and she looked sososososo mad.  then she tied my rope to a big hunk of wood and stacked up some rubish and wowwowwow climed up the wall and disapeared over into our yard where i poo!!!

the red door opened and i went into my house, but then i did a little sneak wen mumi was washin the blood off her cut hand, so i ran back outside and more adventur for me, see ya later mumi byeee!

more hrs later after mumi was shoutin shoutin shoutin i decided to come home and mumi was sad but she quished me and kissed me again and we watched tv and i ate a bone and humped a cushon and it was a nice day.

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.

Mega Meatballs.

Despite being a vegetarian for the past six years, I’ve never been squeamish when it comes to preparing meat. None of my family are vegetarians, for me it’s just a lifestyle I chose and stuck to. I’ll never be one to preach, but would recommend trying to be a vegetarian for at least one day a week. You might surprise yourself.

This recipie however, does contain chorizo and minced beef, so maybe try to go meat free tomorrow…
I made this a few weeks ago for Boyfriends dinner. Taste wise he would totally recommend it; 

“These are the best meatballs I’ve ever had!”

– Gareth McGivern, November 2015

So for the sauce;

1 large diced onion

2 cloves of garlic

Chorizo (as much as you like, it melts down anyway and provides flavour)

1 red pepper

2 tins of chopped tomatoes

Some fresh or dried basil

Lots of black pepper

A large pinch of salt and equal that of sugar

Method;

Start by frying your onions, red pepper and garlic in some olive oil over a medium heat. Your pan should be a decent size and have a lid- it’s going into the oven later.

Once your vegetables are soft, add in your chorizo and sauté that for a while until the oil turns a sexy red colour. Add in your tomatoes and bring up to a gentle simmer, stirring often. Turn the heat down if you think it’s simmering a bit too vigorously.

Add in the rest of your ingredients and turn down to a low heat. Put the lid on, wash your hands, and get ready to make meatballs.

For the meatballs;

1lb of beef mince (or any mean I suppose)

Small amount of chopped chorizo

1 clove of garlic

2 slices of wheaten bread, smashed into breadcrumbs

2 eggs

Rosemary

Celery salt (or regular salt)

Big pinch of black pepper

Method;

Chuck all this in a bowl and mix. It’s easiest if you use your hands, though some people may prefare to use gloves (the disposable ones- not the yellow rubber ones under the sink).

Once throughly mixed, cover with cling film or tin foil or whatever and put in the fridge for at least 30 mins. This sets the mixture and ensures the ball doesn’t fall apart. Keep an eye on your sauce but it should be fine. Low and slow is the way.

Put your oven on to about 150 Celsius.

Shape your meatballs using your hands. Make them any size you want, but I made mine rather large because I thought it would be funny to serve boyfriend two big balls for dinner.

Fry your balls off in a pan. This isn’t really to cook them, but it gives them a nice colour and seals them further. Once they’re all brown, carefully put them into your bit pot o’ sauce.

Put your big pot into the oven and turn it down to about 100 celcius.

Leave it in the oven for around 3 hours. The longer it sits, the tastier it is.

Serve with pasta of your choice, in a baguette or if you’re really hungry, just eat them out of the pot
Let me know if your tried them, and how it went if you did!

If I Had Money.

I was going to title this blog ‘If I Were Rich’, but the more I thought about it the more I realized; I don’t want to be rich.  I don’t want to live like the Kardashians and have shoes that cost more than a car.  I don’t want to live in a mansion with 16 bathrooms and a pool the size of a tennis court.  I don’t even want to be able to hire a private jet to fly me to the moon and back.

The money I’m talking about is the illustrious ‘disposable income’.  If I had disposable income I would get so much shit done. Bills would be getting paid, left right and centre.  I could get my hair cut every 4 weeks (I heard that’s customary) and I could get my nails done when they’re ghastly, not just once a year for fancy occasions. I could drive everywhere and not agonize about the cost of petrol.  I could take my mum out for lunch a few times a month.  I could buy a few drinks in a bar instead of Tescos at the weekend. I could even purchase a single packet of crisps without thinking “80p for a packet of crisps?!?”

Maybe because it’s the end of the month and I’m marvellously broke, but recently all I can do is think of all the things I could achieve if I had ready money. Boyfriend and I have been looking for a house of late. It’ll be our first place together (we’re presently house-sharing) and it feels like a huge deal.  When we decided to start our own adventure, to say I was excited would be an understatement.  I wanted to move out within the hour.  I pictured myself putting up lamps, hanging up art, finding places for books, records, and the other phenomenal amount of stuff we own.  I had wistful visions Barney running around his new home exploring; we would maybe even get an opportunity to re-start his training – no more getting into bed with us in the morning, no more ‘little accidents’ against the skirting.  I’d be putting little Molly touches on everything, calling my mum for counsel and planning trips to Ikea.

You know what’s really shitting stressful?  Moving house.  It’s not like I thought it would be, wherein I look through a brochure and pick the attractive one with the nice garden, big windows and view of the city.  No no, we have very specific requirements that need to be met.  It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find a compromise.  Great house – beside a bonfire site.  Great price – no furniture. Great location – way over budget. Poor Boyfriend has to listen to me whinge and moan on about how I don’t want to live in a squat for the next three years, but at the same time I have to put up with him harping on about how “this is all we can afford”. If I had money, I’d be able to pay for the pleasant detached two bedroom house on the out-skirts of the city. I wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of petrol getting to and from work.  Wouldn’t have to factor in if we had to take the car to do groceries.  If I had money, I could pay for the stuff I want, and save for the stuff I need.

If I had money I could go back to school to study. I don’t often regret not going to University, and I am so fortunate not to have debt like so many others, but I do feel like I missed out on knowledge that could have been mine.  I know a lot of people will say their Course was futile, but I legitimately love learning, and I wish I felt this way when I left school after my A Levels.

If I had money, I don’t think my life would be greater, but I think it would enhance what I already have. I know a lot of people undergo these feelings.  I think it’s important to say that I realise I don’t know what’s in store for me, or what may be just around the corner, but I should mention that I’m rather impatient and it had best come quickly.  There’s a common misquote that “money is the route of all evil”, but it’s actually “The love of money is the route of all evil.”  I don’t worship money; I would just like some more of it.

A Recommendation and a Realisation.

Netflix is strange.  I often scroll an inappropriate amount of time looking for something of interest.  When it’s my turn to choose, either it’s a movie my boyfriend has already seen, or it’s only been rated with 2 stars.  We learned the hard way not to give the 2 stars a chance – they’re rated low because they’re terrible.  Trust the stars.  We often have to abandon the Xbox to look on our phones, as they seem to provide a wider range of choice.

Last night however, it thankfully wasn’t my turn to choose.  I was busy in the kitchen, leaving my boyfriend the laborious task of choosing.  After about 3 minutes I hear “Molly, do you want to watch this?”

I could spend 40 minutes going through each category.  In particular, even though I know all the scary movies are awful, I still read almost every abridgment to see if they’re worth risking the 2 star rating (No!  Never!).

He had chosen a movie called ‘Advantageous’. Written and starring Jacqueline Kim, Netflix doesn’t give much away about the plot with the synopsis saying “In her profession, getting older isn’t an option.  Science has a solution, but it’s the ultimate sacrifice. (2015)”

It opens with a young girl and her mother singing in French, playing piano.  They’re in a normal looking apartment, suitable for two bodies to live comfortably.  It’s the kind of apartment I would like, lots of warm colours among the organised clutter of books and furniture, lamps tucked away in the corners, not a computer or television in sight.

Gwen Koh (Jacqueline Kim) and her 13 year old daughter, Jules (Samantha Kim) obviously have a close relationship.  Thinking back on it now, I automatically assumed Gwen to be a single parent, judged purely on the first scene of the film.  The intro is slightly drawn out, comprising of mostly arty farty shots of children leaping about an unidentifiable city and close ups of Gwen and Jules’ face.  The movie kick starts into action when something zooms over the head of Jules and her friends. It’s only when the camera follows her gaze towards the sound in the sky, we find the movie is actually set in the future, because nothing says an opulent future like a really fast hovercraft!

At the beginning, Gwen seems to be a highly powered individual in a prestigious company, which seems to specialize in innovative technology surrounding medical procedures aimed at making people look younger.  In time, we find that Gwen can no longer be regarded as the spokesperson of the business due to her age and appearance.  This comes at the worst possible time for Gwen, as Jules is transitioning into a secondary school which happens to have astronomical fees.  Naturally, Gwen wants what’s best for her child, but it’s also reiterated to the audience how brilliant Jules is.  Extremely talented in all aspects of academia, including music and foreign languages, we are handed the impression that Jules and her mother have worked extremely hard to be where they are in this society, where women seem to have lost the battle for equality.

Having been made redundant, Gwen desperately seeks for a way to fund the tuition. She has a limited number of options.  Unable to find another well paid job, or unwilling to wait for it, she turns to her family. We find she is not close to her parents due to their contrasting religious beliefs, and the relationship she has with Jules’ father, Han (played by Ken Jeong*) is more complicated than most.  She does go to him, he does not want to help, but for understandable reasons.  She seeks her estranged cousin who ultimately cannot bring herself to cooperate, due to a betrayal some years before.

The futuristic setting of this movie is very subtle, holographic phone calls, tiny blue-tooth ear pieces, the aforementioned hovercraft’s, but what really makes it hauntingly believable is the way in which society seems to have deemed women as useless after the age of 40.  The desperation portrayed by Jacqueline Kim becomes increasingly intense, and we find her putting herself in a hazardous position only a very reckless woman could do.  She returns to her previous employers and offers herself up for a new experimental procedure. This will reinstate her high up in the company, providing her with a salary which will secure the future for not only Jules and her education, but the modest lifestyle they both continue to live.

Needless to say, the movie progresses into dark territory.  Gwen tries to hide that she is struggling, but Jules (being as intelligent as she is) raises awkward questions which her mother clearly wants to avoid. Despite deciding to discuss the procedure in depth with her daughter in order to prepare them both, Gwen fails to mention that she has no other option, stating that the procedure is for the good of her career.  The bond that mother and daughter have is tested to breaking point after it is followed through.  The unanswered question lingers “Was it worth it?” – Especially when it’s uncovered that Gwen may not have had to make such a subitaneous decision to participate in this drastic, experimental measure.

In all truths, this movie made me sad.  The divide between men and women in society was far more pronounced, but after contemplating it a little, perhaps I’m just ignorant to the struggles which older women have?  I feel there is currently a conscious movement towards empowering young women to achieve, but what upset me about this depiction of the near future, is that this current movement seems to have fallen flat on it’s face.

I would never have regarded myself as a feminist.  My only experience with a true feminist would be my old sociology teacher who almost daily crammed it down my throat – The thought that the only reason women did anything was for the pleasure of men was sickening.  I have come realise that this is not the case, and that I do feel strongly about feminism. Men and women are different, but equal too.  It’s no use getting upset if a male were to say I couldn’t be a fireman, because I wouldn’t want to.  I’d be terrible at fighting fires.  I can’t even do a push up.   Similarly, it’s no use getting upset if a man were to say they couldn’t be a midwife.  Most men have no idea about childbirth.

This movie highlighted the importance of remembering the ‘different but equal’ mantra that has been ticker taping around my brain since I watched it. I’ve mentioned before that I hate how women are pressured to be something they’re not, and this film depicts a worst-case scenario eventuality I do not want to have arrived at on my 41st birthday.

A highly recommended watch.