The dreaded early hours.

I’ve been seeing a lot of the night recently. I’ve always been a night owl but a combination of heartburn and unusually disturbed sleep has led me to keep routinely pressing “continue playing” on Netflix every two hours; Netflix’s subtle way of suggesting I should give up and get some sleep.
But I can’t.
I lie down and I feel sick or uncomfortable and immediately reach for something technological to wake me up.
Trust me when I say that, up until recently,I was an eight hours a night kind of girl who was dependent on sleep and had the occasional afternoon nap. But I barely nap now and eight is the number of hours I spend awake, sat watching The Inbetweeners for the 10th time that month.
And I’m not saying I’m an insomniac. I used to work with a lad who hardly got any sleep and I saw how affected he was by that, I have nowhere near as much difficulty sleeping as he did.
I’m tempted to text him, he’ll be awake.
I should probably point out that relaxation videos and soundtracks work for me. They send me into a deep, peaceful sleep. But I shouldn’t, and don’t, rely on them in order to get some sleep. Finding a solution without really addressing the problem is pointless.
Not that I know what the problem is or where to start.


Autocorrect knows my secrets.

So I’m halfway through a text to my friend and my fingers go to type something innocent like veg but my phone has other ideas and BAM I’ve sent a text asking what kind of “vag” she likes. The horror. The shame.
Sneaky little autocorrect making me look sleazy.
Don’t get me wrong, I love autocorrect; it’s ridiculously helpful. Whether I’m online shopping and it fills my details in for me or I’m sending a general text and it can predict what I’m saying – it’s useful, even I cant deny that.
But why does it feel the need to make me sound crude all the time?
I recently sent a text to somebody saying that a certain celebrity made me melt but autocorrect wasn’t content with melt and changed it to “wet”. Mortified.
And then there’s the random words it suggests, they baffle me the most. My phone assumed that when I went to text “getting” what I really wanted was “fettling”: a word I didn’t even know the definition of, let alone use frequently.
But by far the biggest sin of the autocorrect on my phone was that it didn’t accept the word “casserole”. It does now, trust me.
The more I use my phone the more it starts to recognise what I’m saying and the more it predicts what I’d like to say and whilst I moan about autocorrect it does take one for the team when I’m drunk and I desperately want to sound sober. Unfortunately, my drunk texting habits means that it’s started recognising my drunk utterances as actual words so it no longer blinks an eyelid when I type “yui” instead of you and “life gnome” when I mean lift home…
I appreciate that it’s ok with the nicknames of my friends and the various abbreviations and made up words I use on a daily basis but I feel there’s room for improvement. At least, my friend’s reaction to the “vag” question suggests me and autocorrect aren’t best friends right now.

Don’t get excited.

I’m about to talk about technology but don’t get used to this: I don’t do techy things very often.
Now I desperately need to get a new phone. My current phone freezes, occasionally won’t send texts and isn’t too keen on Instagram (which is a shame because I am!).
I ordered the phone I currently have off the internet without doing any real research into it first… And I’m determined not to make the same mistake again!
I like to think that, in terms of technology, I am easily pleased. I want a phone that can take pictures (and send them), handle the social media platforms I frequently use and, most importantly, make and receive calls and have a functioning text messaging service. Is that too much to ask for? No, I didn’t think so either!
And this is where you can get involved!
I need some advice on phones and which are good and which aren’t. I would go into a shop and speak to the people there but I’m sure I’d end up buying something stupidly expensive that I don’t even like. I am easily persuaded by people in shops. Seriously.
So here’s the main point of this post: what phones do people recommend?
Muchly appreciated.

A dream. Of a sexual nature.

Just to make this clear, this isn’t a graphic post about a sex dream I had. Yes, it is about a sex dream that I had but it’s more about what I think about said dream, how unrealistic said dream was and what it could mean. Advance apologies though if I offend anyone etc.

So the dream went a bit like this:

I was house sitting for this family and the daughter of the family decided to stay. Then we were just chatting in a corridor when I pointed to their conservatory and said “want to rumble in the jungle?”. She agreed and we had sex.

Now, I have a few issues with this dream:

  • I know this girl in real life. She went to my school and we had a couple of lessons together and I’d have the odd chat with her but nothing serious and when I’ve been awake I don’t think about her and certainly don’t find her attractive. So why was she in my dream?
  • Why didn’t she leave the house and let me get on with my house sitting duties like napping on the sofa, watching tv and eating everything from their fridge?
  • Why did I think the line “rumble in the jungle” would work? And why did it work?

I’m a bit of a novice when it comes to dream defining so I had a quick look on the good old internet and it said the following:

  • One website says that if I dream of homosexual sex and am a homosexual in real life then it is merely a reflection of myself and my life. Well I can tell you it certainly isn’t!
  • According to another website, I may be nervous to embark on a new relationship.
  • It was also suggested that I am missing sex in my waking life. That is evident from my use of the phrase “rumble in the jungle” to be honest…
  • A lot of websites talk about my subconscious brain exploring “taboo” subjects. The only thing that was taboo about my dream was that I was a really bad house sitter. I didn’t hoover or unload the dishwasher like I had previously promised to do…
  • My dream might also be a sign of my secret hopes and fears. Hmmm.

All in all I think it was probably just my mind wandering off but it’s definitely food for thought.

Restore me. Restore me to my younger, better self.

This is not about me wanting to return to when I was 11. When I was a nice size and when I felt energetic. (Although if I could return to that time I’d certainly cut down on the chip butties, crisps and the morning Twirl bar…)

I’m talking about my laptop.

My useless, useless laptop.

Yes, I know I’m lucky to have one but the way it’s functioning these days it is almost not worth having it.

The past few days I haven’t been able to connect to the internet and today I contacted Dell. I typed in my express service code and was informed that if I was having problems with the internet I should restore my laptop to the last time that the internet worked. And it worked.

But how?

I literally have no idea how it’s possible.

I’m amazed.


Up until recently my music has been scattered around everywhere – both literally and metaphorically. There were CDs on my floor, notes reminding me to look songs up and texts on my phone only containing a few lines of an important song. This all changed when I bought an iPod.

Feel free to hate me for this but I’ve never been an iPod fan. Or an Apple fan for that matter. But I finally gave in and I’m glad I did. iTunes has opened up a whole new world to me and stripped me of about £100 but we’ll glaze over that…

Now my music is all in one place and I adore it.

There’s songs that remind me of the summer when I was 14, songs that remind me of snowy winter walks in December, songs that remind me of school trips, friendships, the feeling of complete and utter loneliness, my dad, a pet that’s died, a time I cried and plenty of times that I’ve smiled and laughed.

I was on the way home from work a couple of months ago and I caught the end of a conversation on the radio. I can’t remember exactly what the presenter said but it was something along the lines of (and I’m paraphrasing) “The music you listen to in your youth will be the most important to you and will influence you the most and stay with you the longest”. And it’s true.

I need only hear the opening chords of The Kook’s “She moves in her own way” and I’m transported back to warm summer nights and long cycle rides and my desperate attempts to impress a girl. “Goodbye Mr A” by The Hoosiers instantly reminds me of the years I spent volunteering and Rihanna’s “Umbrella” always reminds me of the day me and some friends walked to school in the pouring rain in the July of 2007. Little did we know that later that day we would no longer be worried about our clothes getting wet or our hair going curly as our houses would be flooded by at least a foot or sewage water.

I could list my favourite and most memorable songs all day but instead I think I might go and listen to some.