Fat Chick- Pixie Hair

I would first like to introduce you to me, 6 months ago on holiday in Cornwall

I had beautiful long red (dyed) hair and it was nice but I have very thick hair and there is only so much you can take of it at times. It used to take me 30mins just to blow dry my hair! In october I'd had enough and wanted a whole new style and I started researching the one style all the fashion mags say big girls should avoid...the pixie cut!

I don't always consider myself to have a round face- more a heart shaped face, with a double chin as I do have a bit of a pointy chin as you can see in the photo. However I decided to compromise and got myself a short-ish bob to see how I felt having short hair, however I still wanted my pixie.

I also did my research...

1. Pinterest board with ideas of what 'sort' of pixie I wanted. For example I loved Lena Dunhams style with the soft cut and long on the ears and pinned a few things.

2. Blogs! I googled 'fat girls pixie hair' and some fabulous blogs came up from women who were a similar size to me and have taken the plunge and looked stunning. I'd like to recommend brownbettystyle, xovain, xojane,  and particuarly lostinaspotlessmind who has a few posts about getting the chop but her fabulous style was one I brought with me to the hairdressers! I'm totally in the mind set that with the right STYLE of pixie or short hair it can suit anyone.

3. Know what I want to avoid...

It's not to say these styles aren't good but they simply wouldn't have suited me, my hairdresser found it very useful in also knowing what I didn't like as it gave her a bit my guidance and what to avoid. 

So I booked a time to go in and was very nervous prior to my appointment. I made sure my mood board (aka pinterest board lol) was up to date. I also put on makeup, I wanted to ensure that when my hair was cut I'd look as fab as possible! I went to a local hairdressers and also chose a time of day that was quiet- 2pm on a thursday! Plus in the middle of the day meant the hairdresser wasn't rushing and gave me more time. 

One thing I was concerned about was my colour. I had some clearly visible roots coming through when I had longer hair, about 1/2 inch thick. I'm naturally a strawberry blonde and was a little bit worried the short cut would accentuate the difference in colour even more so we decided to just see how it went- and I could always book a colour the day after. 

We spent 5 minutes going through the photos I'd brought, I simply had 3 requirements- Soft cut, long at the ears and heavy on the top. I had this fab picture of Lena Dunham in front of us the whole time as her cut was perfect for what I wanted and had the obligatory cup of tea. The first cut my hairdresser said 'no going back now'. Soon my nerves left me and was replaced by a massive smile the whole way through- I LOVED it! 

I kept telling myself: I'm 24, Hair grows back and you only live once. This was my mantra!! 

So, the obligatory show off photos :)

I'm wearing Elizabeth Arden, Red to wear (£19.50) one of my favourite red lipsticks and I definately have an excuse and the confidence to wear red more often. I'm also wearing Benefit 'Hello Flawless oxygen' foundation in shade Ivory and a lick of Mascara of Benefits BADgal Mascara. 

I've ventured into the realm of hair products also- something I don't go into very much. I've used Bedhead Mega Whip which comes in some cute packaging and gives my hair some lovely texture whilst looking natural and thick. I added it with a spray of L'oreal Elnett hairspray. 

I also should mention the colour. Somehow with shorter hair my roots blend in with my hair and you can barely tell there are any roots at all. Infact the hairdresser and I decided that I must have had most of my dyed hair chopped off and it's nice having my ginger/strawberry blonde hair back :)

So ladies, whatever your size if you want to have a go at short hair I say GO FOR IT. Don't let any fashion magazines tell you what you should have, it's your hair and body :)

A different type of anniversary

Next week marks me and my better half's 2 year anniversary. We plan on not making as much of a fuss about it as we did our 1 year- I think it'll be spent having a fancy meal out and early night seeing as we're in the process of moving house. Either way I'm looking forward to a little bit of quality time together as a couple.

2014 also marks a different anniversary for me. May 2014 would mark 10 years since I left the LDS church. I don't often think about 'the church' as much anymore it's not really in my life, it's my past but many memories still linger. I was inspired to write this blog post on saturday evening. I was doing the pots and the flat was quiet as phil was out and suddenly caught myself singing 'I am a child of god' and then followed by 'I love to see the temple'. I suddenly stopped and laughed at myself how I was unconsciously singing these songs from my religious youth. I then started to contemplate the meaning of the words...Help me to understand his words, Before it grows too late.". All of a sudden this innocent song had a new sinister meaning and It hit me how mind controlling even the music was in this church. It's one of the first songs in childrens songbook (or atleast was prior 2004) and a sweet song but with such underlying meanings about obedience, not questioning leaders...all of the things I disagree with about the church. 

My 'leaving' in 2004 was rather an odd one. It started at school during religious education GCSE classes, I had a fantastic teacher who led student centered classes and encouraged us to think critically about religion, medical ethics and this was probably the first time I'd ever really learnt how to question and appraise information before me. In doing so I then started to appraise what I was being taught about the church. I had readily accepted without question topics such as blacks holding the priesthood and had been told 'we'd find out more later' and I'd never known much about homosexual relationships. I'd never questioned to myself whether they were right or wrong or even been taught about them in the church. It was like a bomb exploded but I carried on. 

I was 14 and musical director for my young women's group and also branch pianist. To sum up- I was being kept busy as a reason to stay in the church! I fully embraced my callings completely- I loved leading and teaching the YW new compositions and performing them, loved playing the piano at church and the compliments I received. I had something to contribute and share and it was fab. I had a group of friends in the church, went to youth dances, roadshows, mutual, temple trips. I wore modest clothes, didn't drink tea or coffee and even drank diet caffeine free coke...oh yes. I was fully absorbed in this. My whole family were mormons also, parents converted in their youth and had the standard temple marriage. So to be fourteen and suddenly have a billion questions it was a difficult time. 

I questioned church leaders- I had a pompous branch president who never really answered my questions but gave me spiel such as 'I had a friend who was black and is ok with not having the priesthood for some time...' and I was told the same old rubbish of 'pray about it' 'read the scriptures more'. I turned to my parents and got told the same thing.

 It was December 2003 that I decided the church wasn't true. Infact I'd always really known because logic told me so but I remember making that decision at a stake christmas music meeting. Logic told me that evolution is right as there is evidence for this, logic also told me that I wasn't happy in the church and that I was being made to feel guilty and that I should leave something that simply doesn't make me happy. I felt very peaceful I'd decided this and somehow felt that when the time was right i'd leave but I no longer felt guilty about who I was, for questions and just felt at peace. 

I started seeing a boy who was a non-member and I remember sitting in sunday school silently mocking the classes and the ridiculousness being taught and laughing with him about it afterwards. 

However I shouldered on for a time as i had these callings, something to keep me busy. That was until i got released out of these callings...rather suddenly! I was a good pianist, not going to lie. I recieved grade 7 with the ABRSM and loved playing the piano. I was all of a sudden told by a counsellor one sunday I was to be released and in my place was his daughter who'd probably only really had a couple of lessons. I was angry and at the time It must have looked like I was angry for loosing these callings and a position of power. I felt insulted- was I not good enough? I'd been told it had been a decision they'd 'prayed' about...hmmm..ok..no coincidence it was his daughter then. I remember angrily going to the car and wanting to go home, skip sacrament meeting. I cried and cried and looking back I feel it was a bit of an over dramatisation but all the anger, confusion I had over this church was pouring out. 

The next week I announced I wasn't going to church, or mutual and that was it. The arguments following this in the house were extraordinary. I was screamed at, shouted, ordered, told I would have privileges taken from me, guilt tripped and made to feel like a second class citizen in my home and blamed for the 'family breakdown'. My mum praised my 'valiant' brothers for going to church I was just going through a 'phase'. One day they came home and guilt tripped me for not attending and pretended they'd 'recieved a special revelation' and I wasn't to know as I hadn't attended...bullshit it was, just guilt tripping bullshit. I probably kept going because I was a teenager and stubborn and I really don't know how I did keep going to be honest with the anger thrown at me by the family. Not only that but friends who I had either stopped talking to me or tried to get me to come back- not true friends really. I have a feeling a rumour was being spread about me 'going off the rails'. Far from the truth I didn't drink, have sex until much later in my teens.

I just kept on going. I wasn't happy in the church and was happier outside of it and that was enough for me to keep going. I felt normal, able to enjoy being a normal teenager with my friends. I enjoyed being who I was and not who I should be to please others. I started to feel angry towards the church when I learnt about their stance on homosexuality something I never quite grasped. It wasn't until I was in my late teens I learnt about all the other things which debunked the church such as polygamy, lying, covering up their history and weird rituals. It made me feel even more grateful I'd left this awful organisation. Occasionally I'd go back maybe for a meeting or mutual and occasionally for a homemaking session and all it did was reaffirm why I left. 

The anger started to leave me as I hit 17/18. My parents no longer were screaming or shouting at me, rather quietly accepting what happened. I was enjoying life at sixth form and parties. University came around and I had a whole new freedom and I felt at peace with myself and the church. I was happy with this life I'd chosen and that was that. I watched as all of my 'mormon friends' who I'd grown up with got married and have kids at such young ages. I felt so happy I was studying, independant and had guilt-free freedom! I don't often reminisce on my time in the church but when I do I just feel sad, sad for the way I was being made to feel by others, the institution and leaders. I feel sad as a woman I was made to feel 'lesser' than my male counterparts and I still have a small bit of anger when I think back to that.

10 years on all I know now Is how lucky I am to have left. If i hadn't left the church I wouldn't be a nurse, I wouldn't be with my fabulous boyfriend and I wouldn't feel as self-assured, happy and confident as I do now having left. I received my letter to leave in 2012 It wasn't that I'd put off asking to be removed from records but more I'd simply forgotten or can't be arsed! I did it, recieved my letter and had about 30 seconds of 'well thats the end of that' and have subsequently lost the letter...it meant that little to me to recieve it. 

I don't often talk about the church anymore, occasionally it's brought up as a 'random fact about me' and people are surprised. It's a part of me in the distant past and thats great and where it should be. 

Cancer is a bitch

In 2012 my dad died of oesophageal cancer, I was 22.

In August 2011 when I found out my dad had been diagnosed with stage 3 oesophageal cancer I was still a student nurse and I knew you could get cancer- but had never really heard of cancer of the oesophagus. You hear of breast, brain, lung cancer as these can often have high mortality rates and bring in the charity money, I assumed as I had never really heard of 'this' cancer surely it was one of the "good" cancers which can be treatable and for a brief nieve 30 minutes I thought this was the case.

A quick Google search told me it wasn't so. I found it death rates were high and the treatment was a highly complicated surgical procedure. My dad went through this procedure to have his oesophagus removed which included a stay in ITU and also a course of chemotherapy, both of which he sailed through effortlessly and for a period of 4 months we thought he'd beaten it.

It wasn't until he started getting lethargic and so short of breath he couldn't talk in full sentences with me over the phone I knew something was up. To this day now almost two years on I still feel angry at the GP for dismissing these symptoms with my dad as a 'chest infection' and my all time favourite 'an emotional response to the cancer' even me as then a newly qualified nurse knew this was not something to ignore. After I convinced my mum to take him to ED a quick CT scan told us the liver had spread to the liver & bones and was so far gone nothing more could be done- 2 weeks later he died.

The day he died was one of the worst days of my life- I'd only made it back from nottingham to bristol a couple of hours earlier. I remember sitting with him whilst he slept wishing I'd taken a book or my phone as I never really knew how boring sitting with someone when they're dying could be- yes, boring! I treasured my last few hours with him, but quite frankly all I was doing was watching him sleep. Occasionally he woke and I could see how disappointed he was to still be alive and in pain.

 It wasn't the slow gradual decline I'd seen in many patients when they die before- he was still concious up until his last few minutes. All of a sudden the nurses were setting up the syringe driver and as they did so I just saw him slip away, suddenly is the only word I can use to describe. It wasn't necessarily the death I wanted for my dad- it happened quickly, maybe even in some pain I don't know but I take solace that it's the death that he wanted. I then helped the nurse perform last offices. I did this for one reason- I wanted it to be done RIGHT. I knew me and only me could give the best care to my dad at what I deemed acceptable and I knew he'd have wanted me to do it- after all this was the man who supported me in my nursing training.

Two years on I'm at a good place in myself and this hasn't been an easy journey. You think when someone is grieving they need friends, support and counselling. I handled it by simply giving myself time, not talking and keeping busy. Probably the complete opposite advice they give- but it worked, it let me figure things out, moments for reflection but not lingering on what happened and now I do feel comfortable sharing my story and can accept it's ok to feel overwhelming grief.

I don't brood over my dad as much but I certainly think of him daily. This weekend has been different a doctor at work off handedly was talking about a patient who had oesophageal cancer and said "They will probably need a DNAR". Fair enough, the patient was of a good age, lots of co-morbidities and had a terminal illness but it just hit me like a jolt and the memories of what we went through as a family have stayed with me for a few days now like it's fresh again.

So thats why I decided to write- to write down the memories I've been holding in and only shared with my other half and occasionally a friend or relative, this is a form of my therapy. I'm grateful for a lot of things. I'm grateful to have had a loving supportive father for 22 years of my life, something I know a lot of people miss out on in their lives. I'm grateful he got to meet the love of my life albeit for a brief few hours he got to meet him and I wish he could be with us now as we move house, build a family as I know he'd have a lot to say and want to help! I know how much he would have gotten on with him as well- they never got to talk about their shared love of beards, star trek next generation, star wars, computers and all things nerdy and I feel sad they would never get to have that as I knew they'd have been friends.

 I'm also grateful FOR my boyfriend! We'd been dating for 5 months when my dad passed away, nobody wants to deal with a new girlfriend going through that- he even met my parents in the hospital. I was expecting him to run or 'keep his distance' and not go to the funeral with me, hold my hand and hold me through my darkest periods. I've never really thanked him for what he did but I don't know where I'd have been if he wasn't there.

Cancer is an awful bitch it's a soul sucking, family ruining bitch. It takes the young and the good and ravages through the body without any let up and I'm proud to have a dad that fought  to the very end.

Home sweet Home

We've found a house!!

I've not yet gotten properly excited as there is still a chance we won't get it (never say never) but you know what I'm excited and feeling lucky we've found a home that is local, near amenities, accepts kitty cats and has a nice big kitchen!

However renting sucks- it is so damn expensive to just get the process started! £150 it cost us just to put an application in, in my head that is two weeks worth of food! That's not counting in the deposit, one months rent and anything else that might get added on.

In the meantime whilst i'm contemplating being broke for the next 2 months- excited about furnishing our place. Must get that blanket knitted!

I'm going to be a grown up this year

Last year I didn't make any new years resolutions- except just to have a better year than 2012, which I did! However in 2013 I noticed a few character flaws about myself which I think could be changed. 2014 is the year in which I turn 25..twenty five- 25. I'm only just coping with being 24 and how I'm not 21 any more- but 25?! Why god why? I woke up this morning feeling rotten and was made to feel even worse by reading this delightful buzzfeed article about how 25 is amazing- and I'm telling you it's lies, all lies. I ain't not got my shift together!

So I have 9 months till i'm 25- thats 9 months and approximately one year to maybe grow up a little, act my age, be responsible and prepare myself for the next milestone...the thirties.


1. Walk up my four storey building without having a minor heart attack.

We currently live in a flat, although one hopes this is temporary this face still exists. The flat is on the top floor of a four storey building and there are no lifts. Walking up them is a chore and I do get out of breathe. I could say I want to loose weight and I plan too- but my goal isn't that, my goal is to simply walk up those god damn stairs and be able to run back down them afterwards! Will be starting weight watchers when this lovely tonsillitis goes and hopefully doing a bit of exercise aswell, will probably update on progress in the future (I hope).

2. Don't live pay-cheque to pay-cheque (or is it check?!)

I'd quite like a month where I don't have approximately 30p left in my account, but maybe a little more. This probably means just being a little bit more sensible with my money, not wasting it on 'things'

3. Blog more.

Sounds stupid but I've found it therapeutic in the past journalling and writing. I'm an awful writer- my grammar, spelling is hideous but I enjoy the process. I want it to be something to focus on and continue.

4. Love more
It's hard with life in the way to spend time with friends, family and partners so i want to ensure I put them first a bit more and make the time for them rather than the time finding me!

5. Confront don't hide a problem
I'm awful at this and this is a massive character flaw I have and I hate it about myself. I hate confrontation or having to 'deal' with a problem. Rather than using my gut instinct today and knowing I'm still too poorly to go into work I spent 2 hours debating with myself and trying to convince myself I was well just to avoid having to let people down. I've found in the past when I've bitten the bullet the problem is a lot more simpler than I envisage- so I aim to do this ALL the time not just when I have a bit of courage from nowhere.

A Monster Ate my Knitting

This is a monster that I live with

His name is Floyd, he's a British Long-Hair kitty and is a destroyer of worlds. Also doesn't he dress fancy?


So I mentioned previously I was trying out cable knitting. Didn't go SO well- I tried this tutorial  which explained things through very well and in a simple style. So I was knitting and purling only to discover i'd gotten the pattern the wrong way round. At the same time I discovered this my little kitty who was sleeping on my knee starting chewing on the yarn and subsequently ate about half the knitting. I then gave up as I am after all poorly and an afternoon nap was far more tempting

Cable Knitting...not a success

However I do have my blanket project. I saw the idea of a knitted patchwork blanket here and fell in love the simple design. So I'm currently knitting simple swatches of the same size in different styles- for example all purl stitch, all garter stitch and will be trying a rib stitch in a bit! So far so good I'm simply just sitting down and doing a bit here and there and aiming to knit at least one patch a day which is enough for when you're a busy lady! We're hoping to move house soon so excited this may be our first 'homemade' object of mine that I can pass on to future children (*note when this happens there will be flying cars). 

I'm sure I'll post updates on the project in due course- someone has suggested I attempt a jumper next. I inform them I can knit in straight lines so scarves and patchwork blankets are the absolute limit for a clumsy knitter like me!!

Things you learn when you move in with your better (or worst..) half

Cable knitting ended in a disaster- tension was too tight, then the cat decided he'd get involved and 'help' and ended up eating half the knitting. Will elaborate more I think in another post


I decided what I could write for my first (serious) blog post and I decided on something that I've learnt in 2013. It's been a rather boring year in comparison to 2012- where I met the love of my life, started a new career and lost my amazing father. A boring year was just what I needed. One thing that will stand out about 2013 was when I moved in with my boyfriend into his pokey little flat.

Background: We met via online dating in 2012. Our first date consisted of drinks at one of our favourite pubs the Malt Cross in Nottingham. We drank a lot I believe I drank mostly red wine and talked about films, books, Dr who and work. The rest, they say, is history...

Fast forward to 2014 and we'd been through a lot as a couple. I thought moving in would be fun after all we practically spent most nights together at each others houses, surely living together would just be if anything easier! However as we've now lived together for just over 6 months I've learnt some little pearls of wisdom...


1. Men like their TV

I feel like I am constantly in a battle with the TV. I have to pre-book 'tv time' in advance and offer something back in return. For example "Can I watch Downton Abbey If I let you play FIFA 2014 for an hour before hand?". The solution I hear you say is to get a second tv- unfortunately not available at the moment. I knew men liked the TV, I grew up with two brothers and a dad who were always dominating the tv with football so this wasn't really a surprise. Most of the time I let him watch what he wants and find something else to do and we try and watch what we both like...but men can get very possessive of their Tv's. Plus a TV is like a penis to a man- the bigger the better...

2. Say goodbye to politeness and romance

"Honey can you just make me a cup of tea whilst you're up"- "No, you have legs"
"You're feet really smell"
"Do you want to go for a meal at our local hungryhorse?"
"Can you look at this spot on my back?"
"Man I just destroyed that bathroom"

Just a few things you'd say to each other. He's lovely- trust me and sometimes he will make me a cup of tea however the compliments and behaviour he had when we were first dating has dwindled as I suppose he no longer has to impress. This also goes two ways...

3. You're messier than you thought

Usually what happens is the man is the messier one. In our relationship that is slightly reversed. I always knew I was a little cluttered an 'organized mess'. However living with someone has shown me I'm actually much worse than I thought I was...oops!

4. You join a team

When considering things such as housework, food shopping, bills, finances I soon learnt it's not a competition. I acted at first like it was I did a whole 'I've done the washing up..so can you now do the hoovering". However realised that it's simply not right, I learnt to do things when it happens rather than use it as a scoreboard. We're a team in it together.

5. You have a new family

Before we lived together my boyfriend was just my boyfriend nothing more nothing less. Now we live together I see him as a member of my family- he's quite literally my other half. Just as much as I wouldn't make decisions without consulting my parents or siblings I now do the same with him.

6. He will see the real you...and I mean the REAL you

You know that face you make when you pluck your eyebrows or how frustrated you get over when eye-liner goes wrong? Or how about waxing your bikini line...eating that whole pack of biscuits. He will see it, he will know about it and he will laugh..

7.  Netflix is a truly wondrous thing

Never will we argue about what to watch as netflix offers so many choices. Plus you will both enjoy netflix marathons together- this isn't exclusive to those in a relationship but it's an 'activity' you can share.

8. You will become an entity
Christmas cards, wedding invites etc will now become 'you and him' and not just 'you'. In turn you start sending presents as a couple and signing cards as a couple to all your friends.

9. You will learn to be together, it doesn't happen like in the movies

It's easy to think sometimes moving in together solves many of lifes issues. That it'll be like a Disney movie without the wedding- he will come home, you'll have dinner ready and you'll spend the evening having fantastic sex. WRONG. You need to work hard, nothing in life happens automatically. You need to learn to make time together, work at communication and sometimes make mistakes brings you closer

10. It's actually kind awesome

It's like living with your best friend except a very cute and hot best friend who you also love...

Wannabe Knitter

I'm poorly- probably for the first time in about a year I'm actually properly- writing out my will- poorly- with tonsillitis (surely grown women can't get this still, I remember it the disease of children...bah!!). The first time I get this and It has to be right at the start of the new year when I want to go out and exercise, diet and try new things- except i'm stuck inside, living on a diet of strepsils, lemsip and cups of tea and making my way through netflix. I've already managed to get through 2 seasons of game of thrones in a weekend and developed a small crush on Jon snow.

Yes please...

 So despite not being able to go out and i'm getting tired just walking to the bathroom I'm devoting my time to a new found hobby of knitting. I'm currently at the beginning of a big project in knitting a patchwork blanket, which is quite simple and involves basically knitting squares and sewing them together which is rather boring.

I've self- learnt knitting through various you tube videos, I find it very rewarding and therapeutic however do find it's a craft not best for those who are at the opposite spectrum of perfectionist. My latest project (a scarf for my mum) was riddled with holes. I termed the phrase 'rustic' to make up for it!

Whilst I'm currently on my deathbed I've decided to learn to cable knit in the next hour. I've found a number of articles to help...

http://www.wikihow.com/Knit-a-Cable
http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/knitting-cables.html

One shall post her results here shortly....wish me luck!

Typical First Blog Post...

I bought a journal in December, a really cheap one from Rymans. I wrote a page..and realised pen and paper was so very 2013. I'm not embarking on an exciting project, I rarely travel and have no exciting life events i'm undergoing but just want a place to vent, write and consider. 

I will firstly apologise for grammar and spelling- not my forte and not so much of a perfectionist to make it amazing! 

I'm a staff nurse in a busy acute ward in the Midlands, twenty-something who lives with her hairy boyfriend and fluffy cat. I've been qualified for two years now in my career and have developed a certain cynicism you get in nursing after this time! 

I knit, occasionally bitch, watch a lot of Netflix and enjoy sleep. 

That is all...