It could only happen to me: Leicester Bus Station.

So the other day, I made a muppet of myself. I decided to get the bus back home from Uni on an evening, which I never normally do. I usually prefer to go for the morning buses because they are more practical.

This time, it wasn't feasible for me to get the morning bus, so I got the evening one. This involved a stopover in Leicester for an hour and a half... which I didn't mind so much. I got myself a Dr Pepper and a HUGE bag of Monster Munch crisps (going to attach the photo because it's literally amazing... For those of you who don't know, Monster Munch are my favourite crisps in all the world), and I sat myself down in the waiting room. 

On the screen, it said that the bus to London was going to arrive at 20:50. It was delayed by 35 minutes. After having already been there for an hour, I was not best pleased to see that information on the screen. However, the screen below it said that the bus to London was en route, and scheduled to arrive at the original time of 20:15. So I was unsure of which to believe. 

I decided to download the app, at 20:15 when I had finished my episode of Orange is the New Black, and my snacks. It said that the bus was very close? So I walked outside, saw nothing, and went back inside the warm waiting room. (It was freezing and raining outside).

By 20:18, the app said that the bus was driving away from me, and was headed to the motorway. After several confused calls to my mum, I looked up at the boards. Long story short, I missed the bus because I had not been constantly looking out the window, as I assumed it was coming at 20:50. 

There were two screens. One was a departures screen, and one an arrivals. 

Basically, my dad had to pick me up from Leicester because I was a MUPPET, and didn't understand that the bus FROM London, rather than TO London, was delayed. It was the last bus going south until 2am... So yeah. I was stranded. I had unintentionally spent 4 hours in a very boring, and very cold bus station.

In my defence, I don't think they should have been due originally at the same time, now that's just confusing. Although anyone who wasn't a muppet would probably understand the difference between an arrivals board, and a departures board. Needless to say, I won't make that mistake again...

Am I the only idiot?

Excited about the huge bag of Monster Munch and Dr Pepper I'd purchased.

Very bored, I decided to take a picture of the door...

I was still there... I'd arrived at 18:10.

My fundamental error.

They're not really pooey...

The Sims Addict: is it just me?

I received a snapchat off my cousin the other day, which was of her Sim dying due to a dishwasher. It sounded like a funny story, and probably was... and it got me thinking; I really want to play the Sims. Not Sims 4 obviously... because thats nowhere near as good as Sims 3. And mainly as a tool of procrastinating from my exams and coursework deadlines that are slowly making themselves more prominent in my life.

It occurred to me that I always play The Sims the same way...

• Build a kick-ass house with 5 floors and several pools (after motherlode of course).
• Make a couple, usually involving myself and a random celebrity that I fancy at that particular time in life.
• Make them get married (look.. if I'm never going to actually get married to Jamie Dornan.. at least a version of me will!).
• Make them get jobs; usually in the music career or the medicine one. Not sure why...
• Cheat to make them get serious skills in whatever they need for their careers.
• Slowly realise that the married couple no longer talks and are both self-centred and only focussed on their careers.
• Make either person experience a serious near death experience, such as drowning in a pool, or being in a house fire.
• Barter with Death (and be mostly successful).
• Make them have two children.
• Let the children grow up and become either alcoholic hobos, or very successful business people (depending on how motivated I am at that point in time).
• Build another kick-ass house and play with another family (myself and Zac Efron this time perhaps).

And so the cycle continues. 

I just wanted to know if I was the only one that did this? Am I the only sadistic person who removes the pool ladders when the Sims are in the pool? The only one that removes all the doors to a room that the Sim is in, until they wet themselves in desperation? The only one that starts house fires, and make the Sim try and put it out themselves? The only one that cheats to get the Sims the best house and best career?

The Sims is a virtual reality. See that word? REALITY. These things don't happen in real life, therefore we should all start playing the game like normal people and stop being weird.

But then wheres the fun in that?

The 16 step process of true procrastination

1. Turn off your phone/ turn off data on your phone.
2. Turn on a light.
3. Open a book, and your laptop.
4. Block Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest and Tumblr and Instagram and Youtube and Netflix.
5. Open your document/ revision notes.
6. Look at it until your eyes water.
7. Begin crying.
8. Accept inevitable failure.
9. Actually get about 10 words written, and then head to the kitchen for a snack because you've worked so damn hard and deserve a break.
10. Spend an hour and a half talking to your flatmate in the kitchen, before telling them you need to go and get this essay done because you're on a roll.
11. Write another ten words, and delete the other ten you'd already written.
12. Tidy your room, because who can work in an environment like this?
13. Hoover.
14. Sit back down, and tell yourself you have loads of time and don't need to panic (its due tomorrow).
15. Unblock Netflix and begin watching an entire series (perhaps Breaking Bad...) and cry yourself to sleep at night worrying about all the work you have to do.
16. Stay up until 5am, fuelled by Red Bull and the occasional Pro Plus, and finish that essay.

Now get off this blog, and actually do some work!

It could only happen to my sister: A&E

In one of my old houses (I’ve lived in quite a few), the design downstairs formed a perfect circle. The hallway led through to the living room, the living room through to the kitchen, the kitchen to the dining room and the dining room back to the hallway. There were no doors, just archways throughout the downstairs. As kids, when we first moved in, my little sister and me used to enjoy chasing each other around and around and around the downstairs; much to my mum’s annoyance. To clarify, I have two little sisters. The youngest sister will be labelled as “blonde” and the middle sister as “brunette” throughout my blogs. This story is about an accident-prone brunette.

My parents were trying to sort out the downstairs and make it their own. Somewhere along the process, a screw was sticking out of the wall (fault of the previous owners stair-gate) at perfect forehead height for my little sister.

Don’t get me wrong; this is actually a very funny story. So my sister and me were running around and around and around, when one day, she tripped and hit her forehead on the screw sticking out of the wall. It was a messy situation, and involved a long stay in the A&E to find out that she was actually fine and didn’t even need stiches (the nail wasn’t in her head, she ran into it and it stayed in the wall). It was pretty much just a scratch… although she does have a pretty impressive scar with an awesome backstory. To this day, we call her the most accident-prone teenager to walk the Earth; as you will learn from later blog posts (she was terrible, my parents couldn’t let her out of their sight!). Many more stories about the accident-prone brunette to come!

It could only happen to me: Argos

When I was about 6, my parents took me to Argos with my older brother and younger sister, and we purchased a cupboard for £59.99 at Collection Point B. However, the interesting thing about the whole experience had absolutely nothing to do with the cupboard, unsurprisingly. 

As a child I was highly dramatic (not much has changed), and the world was my stage. At this particular moment in time, Argos was my chosen stage. I decided that my own rendition of Geri Halliwell's "It's Raining Men" was absolutely the thing that would entertain the customers of Argos. I began to do the dance moves that I had learned through a music channel, and sung at the top of my lungs. A few of the older members of my audience gave me a clap and a cheer, however my older brother (who must have been about 12 at the time) was absolutely mortified about watching me dance my socks off, while he was unsuccessfully trying to eye up some of the females at Collection Point A. I completely ruined his cool, and my own, as the girls started laughing and pointing.

It didn't phase me. Even to this day I find the beauty of an Argos audience (lots of people sitting on chairs waiting anxiously for their numbers to be called; actually, they're just looking for their own items to arrive down that conveyor belt and then they jump up) perfect as an audience to sport my newest dance moves.

I turned 19 in December...