Sunday, 29 November 2015

Take it back and then let it go.

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I've never been that person with the Five Year Plan. When people were deciding their GCSE options based on their parents' decision to study medicine at university, I opted to go for what I enjoyed. When my past relationships have taken a "let's decide dates" turn my #goals have been a little more vague. And god help anyone who has to buy me a present because I'll definitely not be able to give you any guidance. I'm the sort of person that makes personal decisions based upon what I like, what I want, and what is fun. Right now. I'll be the first person to hold my hands up and say 'okay, I'm not thinking about kids and weddings', but I can guarantee to be your first port of call for anything happening, good or bad, big or small; I've got a few boarding passes to Paris and crumpled up receipts as physical proof.

It's getting to the time of year when people are asking me what I 'like'. It's my birthday next week, so have had a fair few queries as to what I want to do, what I'll be doing throughout the week, what presents I've got in mind, etc. I've always been one to have a fairly low key celebration, inviting a few people over for drinks before heading out (normally not remembering coming home), but this year I don't want anything. Call it odd, but I really don't want a marker of this coming of age. Having a birthday in December is tough as it is - people are busy, booking a large table has to be done months in advance, and it's really bloody cold - but this time round I've come to the conclusion that, really, it's not worth the hype at all. Maybe it's getting old (don't hate me, anyone over 27), or maybe it's just coming round to the conclusion that there are more important things to do than celebrate the passing of time.

But, if there is something I like doing, it's spending the afternoon in a country pub (The Hare in Roxwell, shown above, is a personal favourite), and generally avoiding outside life at all costs. It is, after all, the little things rather than the big displays of ostentation that count.

Sunday, 22 November 2015

The bombed out church.

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Oasis artisan fringed jumper: £27, with staff discount, now has 30% off! Oasis denim skirt: £5, sample sale. Laura Ashley trench coat (old). Adidas Spezial: £27.

Do you know how much is takes to not hum the first line of that Wombats song every time I pull into Liverpool station? A lot, I promise. I don't head up North as much as I'd like as it can be really bloody expensive, but a chilled train journey and knowing that I had the next week off set this trip up for success. The plan for this trip was to meet my university friends in Manchester, but I thought I'd pop up a day early in order to catch up with some scousers (one hardcore, one honorary) and have an overdue wander round the Mersey capital.

Within minutes of dropping my stuff off at an airbnb, I was being educated in pizza fries. I kid you not, I knew Jade knew her local delicacies, but these were on a whole other level. We spent our Friday evening catching up over a whole lot of good stuff at Portland Street 358 (as featured on Jade's instagram enough times to make me say "we've got to go" when she suggested anywhere else) before an Adele-fuelled trip back into town.

After a loooong sleep (surprising, considering I was right next to a bar who were hosting a terrible live band. Who needs earplugs when you've been working flat out, tho?), it was brunch and catch up time with the beaut Sade, who was also kind enough to take these photos for me outside the bombed out church. We, of course, went to the old faithful Leaf before heading our separate ways.

Have any of you guys visited Liverpool recently? Or, even better, live there? I'd love to get your tips for the best places to go (and I don't just mean Someplace, because I think I only need to try those absinthe cocktails once...)

PS, if anyone can help me work out how to make the tables in this post mobile responsive, hit a sista up.
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