Long Live The Queen 

Apparently there are seven stages of grief. Seven steps to go through till you feel ok again, like some kind of recipe for the biggest shit storm your little life can handle. 

stage 1 is shock and denial. When I found out you had died I was taking a bath. It took approximately one minute for me to recognise David’s voice, 3 minutes to understand what he was saying to me and what seemed like 2 seconds to get dry, dressed and start pacing the floor wondering what to do (turns out there’s nothing you can do, fuck all, it’s already too late) 

Stage 2 is pain and guilt. Cue huge amount of crying. My guilt came from the fact I am sure you did not know what impact you had on my life. I felt guilty I had never told you that speaking to you every day calmed my anger, soothed my sadness and most importantly taught me to laugh again. I felt guilty that you never knew I loved you. 

Stage 3 – Anger! This ones for me! I’m good at angry. I was furious, everything was unfair. I was livid when people comforted me, furious if they didn’t know. Angry that I was expected to work, angry that you weren’t there with me (we joked that the only way you could have some proper time off was by pegging it) more than anything I was angry that life just carried on, continued without you being in it. I argued, fought and sulked. No one was having your stuff, no one was having your job, no one was even allowed the honour of your name on their tongue unless I okayed it. 

Stage 4 – Depression. The most obvious. I thought I would be awful. My history of depression trying desperately to force its way back out. I think you’d be proud of how I shoved it back in. I was sad but I functioned. 

Stages 5,6,7 – upward turn, reconstruction, acceptance and hope. Do they really truely exist? I know you have gone yet I still don’t accept it. Although I learn to live, love and laugh again the sadness still remains. 

So it’s as easy as that. Follow these 7 simple rules and everything will be ok again!  If only!! There are no rules to grief, no plan, pattern or recipe. 2 years have passed and some days can feel as sad as the first without you. Other days I smile because I am lucky. Lucky to have had you as my friend, as brief and intense as it was. The laughs we shared still there, the in jokes and hour long phone calls. You were the most private, hilarious, caring person I knew and equally as evil as I am. 

I miss you today as much as always and tonight I’ll dance for the two of us.  

                            R.I.P CMC        

Frank Turner-Long Live the Queen

A Valentine’s Story

Once upon a time there was a young Persian lady who fell madly in love with a Prince (don’t they always). One day she baked a cake filled with spice and rose and goodness and magic and gave it to the Prince. When he ate it he fell in love with her instantly! And then there was all that happy ever after bullshit. 
A tradition was born. Persian Mother in Laws would then bake this cake for her daughter’s husband to be and the story goes that once he eats the cake he will fall madly in love and they will have a long and happy marriage. Who knew it was THAT easy!?!

So as it is Valentine’s Day I have made a Persian Love Cake! As you’ve probably already worked out I’m a bit of a nutter, I get something in my head and can’t rest till I’ve done it. £17 on ingredients in Sainos later and I’m happy. (£4 for a bottle of Rose Water that I guarantee will never ever be used again, and cardamom pods….who buys cardamom at 8am on Valentine’s Day in a sea of men scrambling for last minute bouquets! )
In my life Valentine’s Day has always been a bit of a let down. To help those who are feeling a little down about being alone today I share with you my top 5 favourite Valentine’s Day moments…

  1. Getting one Valentine’s card addressed to me and my best friend. We were expected to share. 
  2. Not being able to move from a bed after having my Gall Bladder removed.
  3. Watching 2 seasons of The Undatables and drinking a bottle of wine after not seeing a single person all day.
  4. Getting trashed on cheap vodka and almost getting married to a complete stranger in a nightclub/elvis/wedding ceremony moment.
  5. Oh today…making a Persian Love Cake and watching a program about Ashley Madison, romantic huh?

So turns out I don’t really like Rose water all that much but I’ve mixed it with so much lemon juice it’s now edible! Sounds like some kind of elaborate metaphor for my view on romance.  
Happy Valentine’s Day, I intend to eat a full Love Cake and fall head over heels in love with myself. I should have gone to Bothams! 
Tell me about your horrific/ hilarious Valentine’s moments…let’s cheer up those who are bored of soppy Facebook posts and are still holding their breath every time the Interflora van drives past.I have a little prize for the funniest/worst story. 

The need to impress 

When do we grow out of the need to impress?

I love to get dolled up for a night out, I wear Tom Ford perfume that costs £100 a bottle, I like to take photos of no fat meals, add 3 filters and post them on Instagram. 

I am also very honest about the fact that my dress was £10 from Primark, the Tom Ford was a freebie and sometimes we eat Turkey Dinosaurs and potato waffles. 

I am a girl that will strut into a bar like I’m Gigi Hadid…yet still have to ask for my cocktail in a tumbler because I’m too clumsy for a martini glass. 

I also like to think I am honest with my friends and loved ones, as much as I can without being mean ( except for maybe the pink top/ 3 lots of boobs moment. Sorry Rachel, that was quite mean) 

I have noticed people will go against every friend, every opinion, every experience they have just to impress in THAT moment!

I have always said “if I hate someone I expect my friends to hate them too” which isn’t entirely true. What I mean is if I hate someone don’t talk to them about me, don’t tell them how I feel about them and especially don’t agree with them just to impress. 

It’s easy to get carried away in a situation, it’s easy to show off when you’ve had a drink or two. A case of falling in love with a moment and forgetting about consequences. 

Just don’t forget where your loyalties lie. You don’t need to impress everyone, you’re allowed to disagree, not everyone has to love you. Remember who was there when you had no one else to talk to, who stuck up for you even when you were a dick. Remember your friend. Your Turkey Dinosaur 

The First 

My panic began because of you and I prayed. 

The night you didn’t return home and my heart tried to escape. The beat so strong that I struggled and suffered and wondered “where are you?”

I spread myself wide, opened every cavity and inhaled. And then the panic left and I slept. I woke to find the space next to me empty still, your track there yet no body or no sound 

I gazed from the window and for the first time I prayed. Not to a god, no almighty being or Heavenly Father. I prayed to the earth and to everyone who may listen.

I prayed that somehow they tell me. 

If he is cheating I need to know. If his body is wrapped, sweating around another, His inflamed skin eased against someone else’s sheets, man or woman, I need to know.

If her soiled hands have drawn a pathway to her battered door and you have followed, I need to know. If it is tomorrow or three days after I pray to know.

My prayer was answered and because of you I panic.