The Most Wonderful Time of the Year…

It’s that time of year again.

I mean the time when, by the time you’ve left school, the sky is slowly dimming and by the time you’ve reached your road, you have to walk quickly up it; your hand in your coat pocket and the sharp-edge, point of your key clenched firmly between your index and middle finger.

The time when every single footstep behind you in the almost-dark is a potential stalker slash murderer and the backstreet shortcut which is a faster walk seems to have somehow become more menacing.

The time when the cold numbs your hands when you are talking to your friend on the phone, holding it to your ear (sans gloves), simply so that they will know if anything happens to you. Or even when nobody is at the other end of the line.

The time when Tchaikovsky blocking out the world no longer seems like a good idea because then you won’t be able to hear the potential telling sounds around you. And Mozart is playing very silently in one, solitary earbud. Just one. Very quiety.

Oh the joys of winter.



The Tessellation Diagram

Humans beings are born with the innate need to feel. Throughout life – as a baby, a toddler, a child, an adolescent, teen, youth, young adult, adult and elderly person – this need is the focus of everything we do.

Babies cry because they want attention, they need to feel loved. Toddlers waggle their arms to be picked up because they want to feel comforted, they need to feel cherished. Even when we’re older, we date or marry people because we have this seemingly insatiable need to feel wanted.

But wait, you’re probably thinking, what about people who DON’T feel? Now, I know I’m thinking of it from a black and white perspective, but it is impossible to ‘not feel’. The first connection we make when we think of feelings is one of happiness; we assume that in order to effectively ‘feel’ it has to be good feelings. It doesn’t. Bad feelings – feelings of doubt, guilt, fear, depression – are feelings just the same. At the end of the day, everyone feels something. It might not be the same as we grow up, and yes, even evil people feel things too (though exactly what, we may never understand) but everyone feels something; and some to a greater emotional extent than others. Even psychopaths supposedly have the same breadth of emotions as everyone else, they just don’t ‘attend’ to their emotions the same way that everyone else does.

In general though, the most widely sought-after feeling is that of a need; to be wanted, to be loved, to feel like you matter to someone. This is what drives the majority of our daily lives, from childhood all the way up to retirement age. We want to feel like we have people who care for us and love us. This is why we at first develop friendships; from an early age especially, friendships teach us how we feel that we should be loved, how worthy we feel of this love and also how we feel that we should care for others. This is why that when we first start to develop friendships, it is so important that we are taught our self-worth and value; because when we have little or no self-worth, then we don’t have particularly high expectations for the love we feel like we should receive.

The start of someone’s life is the most important part; it makes them who they are. Each mistake, each tear, each success, each failure; but the important part of the learning and growing process is that they are all feelings.

For me, feelings play a huge part in my life. I get very easily attached to people who I feel are worthwhile people to have in my life, in both platonic and romantic senses, and at times, it can be very difficult for me to let go. My need to feel loved, to feel wanted and to feel appreciated drives nearly every single one of my relationships with friends and with family. In the past, as I think I’ve probably mentioned (or slyly indirected) I’ve lost quite a few people who I once considered my really close friends, or ‘best friends’ as some people would refer to them. And yes, losing friends is sad, and it hurts a lot, and it can take a long time to get over. To some extent, I would argue that I never really ‘get over’ things, but just learn ways to cope and move on.

So this is where the title comes in – after my long, and mostly necessary ramble. A while ago (about a year ago now, WHOA time flies!), I was chilling with Dezza and trying to explain to her my interpersonal relationships with others. I described it to her using the simple example of a tessellation diagram:

Imagine a blank white page. Now draw a hexagon. Now draw another one connected to it. Keep drawing hexagons until your page is a tessellation filled with empty-looking hexagons.

This is the structure of my relationships. The ’tiles’ closer to the upper left are some of the oldest ones; the tiles further down and to the right are new ones that are added. Pretend that there is a name painted in black on every single tile; these are all the people I interact with regularly, occasionally or infrequently. The oldest tiles, the ones that are broken and cracked, are often the ones that I have tried to remove, but with disastrous consequences. You see, the longer you leave these hexagonal ’tiles’, the more difficult they are to pull up without completely shattering the tile altogether; over time, and without care or attention, they become neglected, brittle and subject to fracturing.

On the other side, you have the newer tiles, that are being added as I write at this very moment. These tiles are the ones that are shinier and new, but only time will tell how well they wear. (That’s  a bit of a mouthful: only time will tell how well they wear…) And then you have the tiles somewhere in the middle that are neither old nor recent but are very shiny; they are the ’tiles’ that I regularly attend, cleaning, polishing and filling in any cracks which appear when cracks start to show.

Some new tiles don’t last very long; sometimes the names written on them are quickly scratched over before the ‘paint’ can dry and replaced with new, more worthwhile names. Old tiles only remain because taking them out of the tessellation altogether would mean… well, it just wouldn’t be a tessellation; as much as many relationships I’ve had have been somewhat questionable, there is no doubt that I would not be the person I am today if it weren’t for the mixture of both good and not-so-good experiences.

And that’s it, I guess.

That’s the positive outlook of the whole situation; even though not every friendship and relationship I’ve had has been positive or edifying for me as a person, they’ve all crafted me in ways which may not have made sense at the time, but start to make sense the older I get.

The more you age, I guess the less you realise you know and understand about things. I’m not trying to make out like I’m an ‘old soul’ far ahead of her peers, but there are certainly (as it goes without saying) things that I’m still learning. I’d like to think I’ve become a lot more sensible in choosing my friends and surrounding myself with encouraging people who understand me and support me, and give me the opportunity and the privilege of being able to reciprocate as well. I don’t even have to @ anybody, because you all know who you are. 🙂

But yes, that’s it from me for the evening.

In the (fictional) words of Albert (and then Sir Robert Peel): There it is.

Love from The Faerie Squad Mother x


p.s. I watched the next episode of ‘Victoria’ and their incestuous cuteness never fails to simultaneously shock me and move me to tears.

An Unexpected Return: The ‘I’m Kidding Mum’ Edition

Once again. I am always disappearing for long periods of time, and – honestly – so much has happened since I last blogged on the 1 August 2016. Unfortunately, I have no elaborate, eloquent essays like my last post, so this is simply pure, unadulterated rambling. No structure, no hidden messages, no propaganda.

Just my nonsense.

So what have you missed? First of all… well, not first of all, but one of the most important things: I turned 17. (Wahey!) This is a milestone in UK terms because (also most importantly) I can start to learn how to drive. I am also one year closer to getting married without my parent’s permission; this, naturally, is obviously the number one goal.

I’m kidding mum, that is obviously NOT the number one goal. 🙂

Secondly, I’ve made new friends. I say new friends, I mean friends who have literally fallen into my lap due to entirely unforeseen circumstances. As I, often do, never directly use their names, Cameron – as she is called for an entirely justifiable reason – is a new friend I have discovered, to be politically correct,  who shares my love (pun intended) for words, writing, racial politics and humour. I’m low-key glad I’m talking to her now, too. There has been the development of my friendship with Spaceboi who is, in fact, a boy from space, because he is out of this world. Literally. He also still owes me Welsh soil. (Even though he’s dying and he can’t swallow. #GetBetterSoon) And as a new edition to my shiny card collection of friends, Bag Juice, so named for his favourite beverage in Jamaica (yes, I also went to Jamaica for the summer) is – I have discovered – my ‘long-lost cousin’, whose laugh makes me laugh.

As a matter of fact, he’s on the phone to me as I write this. Bag Juice, as in. As he has just brazenly told me, after a small dispute over GCSEs, “I know bare.” What a legend. Truly inspirational words from an inspirational young man.

(I was going to start the next paragraph with the word ‘also’ but because he’s now at A-Level and thinks he’s a bit cool, Bag Juice suggested that I start with the word ‘conjointly’. I’ve never even heard of it before in my life. He now tells me I should look it up in a dictionary or a thesaurus, because of course, “he knows bare.”)

Conjointly, I have continued my current studies in A-Levels, continuing on with the ever-stressful English Literature, Spanish (now so rapid that I’m surprised I’m not told to bring a life-jacket to every lesson) and History, which is the only thing that is keeping me going right now anyway. But I don’t have a choice, and so I am aiming for that #AcademicExcellence because I intend to make the best of this year. Especially since last year didn’t exactly go to plan. And, naturally, I do not want a repeat of the academic DISASTER (to put it lightly) that was the school term of 2015.

I’m kidding mum, it wasn’t a COMPLETE disaster. 🙂

[Update: Bag Juice has now gone. It’s just me now; thank goodness he’s left me to blog in PEACE!]

Praise the Lord, though, that I got an A and C in my AS Levels. The A was (entire unsurprisingly) in Drama and the C was in Spanish, and even though, sadly, I have been forced to drop Drama – and will subsequently miss my husband Torvald, and my Polish twin sister Caroline, and Turkey, and just everyone in the class – God helped me to pass my Spanish. No, but honestly, it had to be Him, because there is not a chance in Hell (ha! see what I did there?) that I was able to understand a single word on that test paper.

It was all Greek to me. (I’m kidding mum, I obviously revised for it. 🙂 )

Also, on the theme of #AcademicExcellence, I’ve recently deleted my Instagram and Snapchat – and I couldn’t have chosen a better time, really – so that I can focus on my work and my spiritual life as I realised they’re literally two of the biggest distractions for me. I’ve only been accessing them illicitly when it is 100% necessary. (I’m kidding mum, I don’t illegally sneak onto them on my laptop. 🙂 )

Since the tearful and heart-wrenching ending of Downton Abbey, and the anxious wait for the next season of Velvet to be released on Netflix, I have found a new program to alleviate my desperate and insatiable longing for period dramas; Victoria, on ITV. We only have a slight problem – well, I say it’s a slight problem, when in reality it’s a large problem that brings about very worrying developments and has even worse implications; Victoria and Albert, the cutest televised historical couple that I have seen to date, are related.

“But that’s not so bad!”, I hear you cry. “All the British Royal family are inbred!” (You wouldn’t be wrong if you did say this; our current Queen Elizabeth and her husband are second cousins once removed). But wait! Victoria and Albert – the cutest televised historical couple that I have seen to date – are not only related; they are *drum roll* FIRST COUSINS! (Gasp! Shock! Horror!)

What shocks me the most though, is not that they are related or that they had 9 kids (and that’s at LEAST 9 sex – 9 too MUCH sex for first cousins, in my humble opinion), but the fact that despite knowing this shocking fact, I am still high-key gunning for their sweetly romantic relationship.

In other words, I am high-key gunning for incest. (Please feel free to quote me; you will never hear these words come out of my mouth at any other point in my life). What’s wrong with me? I mean, I know I’m a nerd for history, but I’m NOT a nerd for incest and there is never any excusable justification for this practice, right?

I’m kidding mum, I don’t support incest. 🙂

Anyhow. We’ve lost a key member of our History band, which was named ‘Volksgemeinschaft’; now Babs has left and our topic has changed in History (Civil Rights in America from 1865 – 1992) we’ve had to rename ourselves ‘The White Citizens’ Council’. Which is just historical banter, but PLEASE don’t assume that we’re only made up of racist white people, because I am neither racist nor white. I don’t know about the others though… I know for a fact that Mags has admitted to being a white supremacist on the weekends, and she does own an uncanny amount of white bedsheets?

I’m kidding mum, none of my friends are white supremacists. 🙂

Speaking of white supremacy, I also want to say, a HUGE congratulations (and shout out) to the KKK, who would have been in existence – by December 24th of this year – for 151 years! Yes, you’ve read that entirely correctly! The fun-loving, all-hating, Christian band of ‘lovable rogues’ (as I, so gingerly, put it) have been up and running for 151 years! Since December 1865, who would have thought that they would have STILL (yes, that’s right, STILL, because they have an official website and everything!) been alive and well in September of 2016?

Certainly not me. That’s who. (Especially to all those who think we live in a ‘post-racial’ society, they are a group who were literally born out of racist ideologies and stand for white supremacy and are still today being supported by American citizens.)

But let’s not dwell on the positives, eh?

My writing attempts since 1 August have been somewhat faulty; did that sentence even make sense? Probably not. Goes to show, right? But when I was in Jamaica, I kept a diary of the goings-on (for about a week or two) which I tried to start off emotionally-neutrally, but ended up failing and just revealing the depths of my soul to. The worrying thing is, even though I know it’s at home, I can’t remember where I put that notebook. (I’m kidding mum, not the depths of my soul.) But I don’t doubt I will shortly find it and be able to burn whatever necessary incriminating pages.

I’m kidding mum, I’m not going to burn any of it, it’s all evidence to be used against me in the future. 🙂

And on that note, I think it’s time for me to once again depart and leave the heart of my blog empty and waiting for me to return at sporadic intervals, whenever I gather the ability to write.

Farewell, until next time,

The Faerie Squad Mother x


p.s. I’m kidding mum.

How Ironic

I think it’s really funny how some people seem really surprised that I’ve suddenly begun to talk more about racial issues and such, not just on my blog but also in real life.

I’d just like to let everyone into a little secret: I’ve always been talking about this stuff.

It’s just that when I used to talk about it, I tried to keep my voice as quiet as possible so that nobody complains that they’re offended or that I’m a ‘racist intolerant’ or whatever else. But now, I’ve made a conscious choice to make my voice heard.

I also find it really funny how before, when I was content to quietly mumble about social injustices with my friends, there was never a reaction, but the instant that I find and use my VOICE and on my personal BLOG of all places (what am I thinking? How RUDE of me; my PERSONAL blog?!) people suddenly make a fuss about my opinions.

I bet if I was to post a blog complaining about the Instagram update and saying how unacceptable it was, people would comment things like, “This is so true! THERE IS SO MUCH INJUSTICE IN THE WORLD!!!!!” or “I’m so glad SOMEONE said something! I thought I was the only one!” or even “I actually think it’s alright.” Even if I was to post entirely in (probably very poor) Spanish, I guarantee people would still comment, “I couldn’t understand anything but this is so true!” Even my post about my somewhat controversial religious beliefs didn’t elicit the level of hate and disagreement that my racial post from Sunday did – both online and IRL. But when I post about racial issues people tell me, “You make this all up” and “You’re not even oppressed. Go live in a third world country and see what oppression REALLY is” and “Stop complaining! You’re not helping your own situation by fulfilling stereotypes!” (Which, may I just ask, stereotypes do I fulfil?)

Plus, oppression is relative. Just because I don’t live in a third-world country or somewhere where many women are openly treated as subordinates, doesn’t mean I am not still at a disadvantage in my own country. I’ve mentioned before, I’m a black female. I live in a Western Society, where the institutions cater for White Heterosexual Rich/Middle-Class Cishet Males before anybody else. This means that within my own native system, I am at a disadvantage. And I think people think of oppression and imagine slavery being reintroduced into society; but it’s a lot more than that. Oppression is about how prejudice and discrimination has become institutionalised and normalised to the point where a specific set of people are benefitting – and it just so happens that I am not a person who is actively benefitting from the system.

I mentioned in my #BodyPostivity and Letter to my 8-year old self post that I’m learning to love myself and that nobody can make me feel inferior without my permission. Which is very true. In the past couple of days, because of the reactions to real life and on-line situations, I’ve begun to doubt the validity of my voice and my opinions. But then I get slapped back into reality and realise, “Why am I letting bitter, ignorant people limit my voice?”

And I realise that, as much as I don’t like confrontation, some things have to be said. It has taken me SO long to climb out of the box that I was put in from Primary School, and I’m still on my self-love journey. I literally cannot believe that I would even consider taking any anonymous person;s comments to heart. I literally cannot believe that anyone would take time out of their day to read through a post, become offended by the literal truth and then decide to share their negativity  – to be honest, I love hearing from my fans. Especially the bitter ones. (Plus, I’m flattered you think me so significant!)

Anyway, let’s not dwell on negativity.

I had an exam yesterday, a written one for Drama. Which went really well. We had to sit two papers; a live theatre and a studied play script. For my playscript, we studied Henrik Ibsen’s ‘A Doll’s House’. If you HAVE read it or had to perform it then I feel sorry for you if you had to be Nora. If you haven’t, maybe do in your free time. It’s an interesting play definitely, but you have to take into consideration a lot of contextual factors. Interestingly, it touches upon issues of female subordination, to an extent, because – long story short – the play centres around a married couple, Nora and Torvald Helmer. They live in 19th century Norway, and Nora is literally treated like a child by her husband – a doll, in a sense of speaking, hence the title. It’s actually SO weird, he calls her all sorts of weird, dodgy pet names, and she loves it, but she’s quite manipulative.

To be honest, their marriage is just a disaster waiting to happen.

But in the end (SPOILER aha) she leaves him after a LOT of unnecessary and avoidable drama because she realises that she has become such a trophy wife and a pet to him that she doesn’t even know who she is herself. She says she wants to discover herself or whatever, so she leaves him with the children.

Great story.

But anyway. I have an exam next Tuesday for Spanish Listening, Reading and Writing which should be VERY interesting, seeing as I’m a lot worse at Spanish than I initially realised. I’m sitting in my study periods, and I’ve just spent about an hour practicing Spanish words and phrases and grammar etc. (Memrise is actually fantastic. It is keeping me going this year in Spanish, I swear!)

Because of the fact that my AS subjects have technically ended, I now have two mornings and two afternoons off from school, which is literally fantastic because it means I can go home earlier and I’M SO READY FOR SUMMER NOW.


Because they’ve changed the system and as of next year, AS-Levels will technically no longer be a thing, they’re introduced these new exams which are like UCAS Prediction exams, so that when we apply for University (next September, I think, we start) then you have the Predicted Grades from the ‘official’ University system, I suppose.

Which sucks because it means more unnecessary and stressful exams. But whatever.

I need to do some more Spanish.


Love the Faerie Squad Mother x


#BodyPositivity (And Then Some…)

I am 5’1”.

Translation: I am very short. I am nowhere near the average height for a girl my age (5’6” if you were wondering – so a whopping 5 inches shorter). I don’t seem likely to grow but I’m resigned to the fact. (I also own lots of pairs of heels, wedges and platformed sandals, so it’s fine.)

I have eczema. Which sucks quite a lot, because it never really ‘goes away’, you just sort of subdue it for a while. I don’t have it bad, but I have it in small patches behind my knees, on my stomach, on my back and on my arms sometimes. It flares up when I eat dairy products, which is why I need to go vegan… I’m working on it though, I promise Mags!

I have lots of wobbly flesh. I don’t know about my arms, but I know that my thighs are thick and wobbly (#ThunderThighs) and my calves are really thick and wobbly too. I’m quite pudgy. My stomach isn’t flat, or even close to it really, and when I stand sideways, I can see it sometimes protruding from the waistband of my jeans/skirts/shorts etc. Sometimes it even pokes out of my dresses. (*gasp*)

I’m not toned at all. Like I don’t think a single part of my body is toned. I have a mostly non-existent waist; if you squint, and stand 5 miles away and turn around and close your eyes, you can see its’ cousin. I don’t have an hourglass figure. (That’s what they’re called right? Hourglass?) I don’t even know what figure I have.

[Hang on, I’m going to google it. After a quick google (and much confusion) I’ve decided that I probably have a pear-shaped figure.]

I have quite wide hips. (*winks*) That means that in certain cultures, I would be an ideal bride for my ‘child-bearing’ hips. Not for anything else though really LOL. I don’t have super large boobs. They’re comfortable for me though, so it doesn’t bother me.

My body is VERY disproportionate. I have really short stumpy legs and a very long torso, so I mostly wear clothes that hide that fact, like high-waisted jeans and longer tops that look like tunics.  So you can’t see that I have no legs.

I’m not fit? I’d like to think that I’m healthy, but I’m not particularly fit. I can’t run or jog for a substantial amount of time. I can walk, but brisk walking for long distances gets me out of breath.

I have quite a lot of body hair. Most people do, it’s natural? Who cares?

I have a really large bum. Like seriously large. It is the bane of my clothing struggles, along with my not-entirely-flat stomach. I also have stretch marks; on my butt and on my thighs.

My feet are large and wide. They’re a 6 to 7, depending on the shoe store and style of the shoe. Most of my heels are 6 or 6½, and I have a few shoes that are 7. Because my feet are so wide, sometimes they can’t fit into really nice shoes, which is sad. But also quite good sometimes, because when you want to steal shoes from someone, you can just bust them out. I also have quite long toes. When I was younger, my toenails used to be really brown but they’ve faded now, so they’re that natural shade of pink or whatever colour nails are.

I used to have really crooked teeth. I got braces about 4 years ago now, and got them off 2 years ago, but before that my teeth were so out of place.

I’m learning to embrace my body, and everything else about me, because I’ve been taught to think I wasn’t beautiful for so long. I’m trying to not care what people say anymore. This post is pretty important I think, because people get so touchy whenever you mention ordinary human body parts when they’re not what society calls ‘normal’ or ‘beautiful’ or ‘conventional’. And it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. For years I’ve been told that I can’t be ‘beautiful’ because I’m short, because my body proportions aren’t normal and I don’t have a flat stomach or whatever. That’s fine. My body proportions are probably never going to change. Maybe parts of me will grow, maybe they won’t. Maybe I’ll get hairier, maybe my toenails will go brown again, maybe I’ll get wobblier, maybe my stomach will never be flat, maybe I’ll never be toned.

To be entirely honest, I don’t care. Okay, so I can’t wear some of the things I might like to, but the important thing is health. I could be super healthy and super fit and still have a bit of a pudgy stomach. My thighs might still be chubby, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll shed weight. Either way, it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m healthy, I don’t care whether I embody the societal image of beauty or not.

I mean, I already don’t, I’m a black female.

So this was my attempt at #BodyPositivity. Did it work? I don’t know. But here we are.

Anyway, I’m out now. Got lots of other important stuff to do, like procrastinate for the rest of the evening, and cringe thinking about the transparency of this post, but then convince myself that this is a step in the right direction of self-love.

The Faerie Squad Mother x



Perpetual Percentages

I am currently sitting at my desk with a tab open with YouTube playing and the face of Henry VIII from my history textbook disconcertingly staring at me.
I don’t know what I’ve come here to talk about but seeing as I haven’t posted anything since February, I thought I might maybe once again grace the face of my own blog.
What is there to update you on? Well, I have my first actual AS Level exam this Friday. Nobody panic, it’s just Drama. Well… I say JUST but I’m only doing this one practical, so it’s pretty damn important and Drama is my AS Level, so I can’t afford to flop this one.

I’d rant about it but I really can’t be bothered to rant about anything right now. That’s a lie, I want to rant but I have nothing to rant about. And I always whine about the British Education system anyway. We already know how flawed it is.

My internet is also playing up, so I have had to refresh this bar several times. My music doesn’t want to play anymore because it seems like this is ‘Violate Rianna’ Day – it says ‘Problem loading page’ – and so I’ve had to literally copy and paste all my blog post text onto a WORD document (a Word Document… am I living in the dark ages, internet provider?) so I can continue to write unhindered without the worry that the website will crash and I will lose all my carefully crafted sentences.

I lie, they’re not carefully crafted. But would you like to know what IS carefully crafted? My witty responses to people when they’re stressing me out. I’m not a funny person (I admit it, reluctantly, although it may surprise you to hear) but for some reason, I become funny when I’m being witty and sarcastic. Although I know several people who would contest this, let me tell you, it’s like every ounce of humour is being stored up within me, and I simply cannot access it. But then suddenly, in one moment of scathing wit and sass, every single bit of humour pours out of me, with the force and intensity of a skilfully-wielded sledgehammer, and it is truly mind-blowing.

I’d also like to take this moment to point out I like to exaggerate things a lot. If I was to rewrite that last sentence, I’d replace the phrase ‘skilfully-wielded sledgehammer’ with the phrase ‘all-destructive tsunami’. Perhaps that works better in toning down my hyperbole.

English is going well. I didn’t think I’d like Frankenstein at first, I can’t lie, but I have come to a grudging tolerance of it. Perhaps myself and the novel’s relationship will improve sometime in the near future, but I wouldn’t stake my life on it, to be entirely honest. Also, I recently starred (I say ‘starred’ but all I did was read) as the part of Blanche in ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’. I think I did an alright job, considering that I gave her one of the poshest British accents you could imagine (despite the fact that she comes from SOUTHERN America) and that I – like Blanche DuBois – am the epitome of a ‘Southern Belle’.

[Rianna’s Note: The internet has returned and I’ve managed to reload my YouTube but I’m not going to be so trusting of WordPress just yet… Also, le sister has just called me for dinner, so I shall return in a few short moments after this undetectable break…]

Para la mayoría, Español me haces querer a morir. (That sentence was probably wrong anyway, but I think that it means: For the most part, Spanish makes me want to die) It’s definitely great, because I love learning it and it’s an amazing skill to have – as in, speaking another widely-spoken language – but the standard which we learn it at is no longer the standard where you can breeze through. Like there’s so much effort involved and so much work and so much grammar. And so many rules! Like they say, you have to learn the rules to be able to break them, but there are so many more irregular verbs and conjugations than you would ever believe!

[Rianna’s Note: The internet has once again removed itself from my computer, so Windows Media Player is now the best substitute for YouTube. By the way, do I get money from these endorsements, because I’m actually mentioning them? Windows should sponsor me LOL @BillGates do you want to sponsor me? I’m more than happy to write positively about Microsoft for a few thousand dollars or so.]

But History is the only thing that is (mostly) not making me want to die. The source papers are a joke and Edward VI’s and Mary I’s ecclesiastical policies are going to be the death of me. We can summarise all by saying, “Somerset was useless, Northumberland was LESS useless, Edward was completely useless, Jane was useless, Mary was useless, Phillip was just a complete idiot and nothing was restored effectively until Elizabeth took the throne.”

But would I get full marks for writing that in an essay? No.

[Rianna’s Note: I just did some quick research on Microsoft and apparently Bill Gates is no longer the largest shareholder, it’s some guy called Steve Ballmer so @SteveBalmer or @BillGates, whichever one of you it is, please. Honestly, I won’t even ask for that much.]
And let’s discuss how PEAK Mary I’s life was. She came to the throne after both her father and half-brother had disinherited her. She misinterpreted England’s support for her as support for her almost fanatical Roman Catholicism, and decided, ‘Great, I have England’s support so I’ll change making drastic changes and burn people at the stake.’ To make it worse, she married a Roman Catholic Spaniard, Philip (technically Felipe, if you want to be entirely correct) II of Spain, who was already responsible for the Inquisition in Spain, and together they pretty much tore down the name of Roman Catholicism in England and forced Protestants to the continent. (Which just means mainland Europe, so I’m not sure why they call it ‘the continent’ like it’s the only one in the world…)

But the BEST bit (and by best, I mean worst) about her life, was the fact that her husband didn’t even love her. Not even a tiny bit. And he didn’t even pretend. He’d literally visit England, burn some Protestants, do his ‘duty’ by her (i.e. sleep with her and try to pop out some heirs) and then return to Spain. He’d GET UP after sleeping with her and then hop on the next boat to Spain. How much of a violation is that?

Not just that, but as soon as she died – without children, may I add – he proposed to another gal. Which doesn’t seem so bad, if we disregard the fact that his new proposed affiance was none other than Mary’s sister, Elizabeth I. He really had no shame.
I feel like Philip would be that guy who you’d message, then he take 43 hours to respond, and when he finally opens your message, he wouldn’t even respond. He’d just leave you on read. You get me @Squad?
I mean, personally, I don’t like Philip, but each to their own, eh?

[Rianna’s Note: I found out that neither Steve nor Bill are the CEO of Microsoft. The CEO is in fact Satya Nadella. @Steve @Bill @Satya, please don’t let me suffer here in the depths of hell that is the British education system. Seriously. I’ll say whatever you want me to about your products. Not that many people read what I write anyway, but take pity on me. How else will I pay for my Higher Education? If I tag Microsoft in this, will they be more likely to see my desperate pleas?]

On a combined Spanish and History note, however, my Tudor teacher told us that there is a gap in the Tudor field for competent Spanish speakers. Because obviously, as Philip (yes, the Spanish one whom I do not have an affiliation with) was a pretty important figure in Tudor England, a lot of his documents are undecipherable, because they’re in Spanish. Not to mention, you can hardly Google translate the jumble of language that is Tudor English, let alone medieval Spanish in relation to the Tudors.
So she told us we all have to go to King’s College, and that myself and Babs have to go into Tudor history as we’re the only two in the class who do Spanish, and basically decipher the important documents. (She didn’t specify which important documents, but there ya go. Life plan mapped out for us by teachers LOL)

[Rianna’s Note: The internet is slowly coming back and then going again.]

What more nonsense do I have to ramble about?
Well, I’ve made some more friends since February and March. Which is great, right? And one of them (shoutout to Becky, if you’re reading this LMAO) literally understands every single one of my struggles.

Also, there’s this girl who I usually see travelling home on my route, but I figured she lives in my area. But we take different routes home, so I figured out her route. And we always see each other but we’ve never spoken. But today, I went to my Consortium school and she is friends with one of the girls in my group I suppose? So, she was walking with us and stayed with us for a bit and it turns out she’s actually hilarious. (Who would have thought, right?) Anyway, I’ve finally spoken to her; she told me she figured out my route home too – which is entirely NOT creepy, because that’s the sort of things girls do – and we’ve agreed to talk whenever we see each other now. Que fabuloso. (See, my Spanish isn’t entirely wasted!)

[Rianna’s Note: My back hurts. Also my dad just brought a new battery for my laptop, because the one before was completely WHACKED. Literally, if you used the laptop, you’d have to keep it plugged in and charging or the computer would switch off. And even when it was plugged into the power cable, it wouldn’t charge. It just stayed at 34% perpetually, until it’s perpetual percentage dropped to 20%, then I was terrified it was going to die. So I just kept it on all the time. But now it’s fine so praise the Lord, I can walk it around the house without having to bring my power cable everywhere.]

Well, I think I’m done. This has been a productive use of time. I need to bring a slice of bread into school tomorrow for Drama, and I have to sort out my costume, so I’ll just go now and sort out my life. (Still in the continual process of doing so, but at least I’m getting somewhere!)

The Faerie Squad Mother x

p.s. I did, in fact, hyperlink as many social media sites as I could find from those three guys from Microsoft, so let’s hope they see my plea and fund my life.


To 8-year-old Rianna

How the hell do I start this? Oops. Shouldn’t say hell, that’s probably a bad word right now. Uhm. Ignore that sentence.

Right now, we are 16. (Do I say we? Are we the same person or different individuals? Who knows?) We could have avoided so many problems right now if I’d have written this to you earlier. I just want to try to correct what should have been corrected about 8 years ago, but I was unable to tell you, being 8 and all, because I didn’t know the things I know now.

I know this won’t change anything but let’s pretend that this will. These are some really important things that you have to listen to, okay?

Firstly, please love yourself. Don’t let people trample all over you. Don’t let people bully you or tell you that you are worth any less than you have been taught to believe. It will take you many more years to learn to love yourself if you don’t right now, and you don’t need all the drama of self-acceptance and self-confidence. Really. You don’t. Understand that you matter, that you have a voice and that you can use it. Understand that nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.

Understand that you are beautiful. Just because your hair isn’t blonde and you don’t have freckles and your eyes aren’t blue, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t beautiful. You will learn later that the way you wanted to look was just society telling you how you should. But embrace the way you look. It doesn’t matter whether everyone else teases you for your hair and your butt and your height. You are a beautiful black girl and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And if they do, don’t believe them. They are taught to believe that you cannot be beautiful, but you can be, and you are.

Keep working hard. People will call you a nerd, and a geek and whatever other offensive words they can find to use. Don’t cry, they don’t matter, because in a few years when you are going to sit your exams and they are the ones asking you for help with revision, you will smile at the reversal of fortune. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re ‘too’ smart, that you’re ‘too’ intelligent, that you’re ‘too’ anything. You are just right. Put effort into the things that you do, and I promise you, it will pay off.

Stay strong in what you believe. It will take you a while to fully embrace and understand everything you believe, but make sure you believe it for yourself. Right now, some of what you believe is what you’ve been taught to. Understand everything for yourself, and don’t just let people tell you right and wrong; learn it for yourself. In about two years you will want to be baptised, and you will, with your best friend. Keep the enthusiasm you have for God, and don’t let anyone take it away from you. Don’t be ashamed of what you believe in. It will become harder to express your beliefs when you get older, but the more you do it and stand up for what you believe in, the better it will be.

Keep being sociable and friendly. Everywhere you go, you will make lots of friends and lots of acquaintances. The difficult thing is learning to differentiate between the two. Don’t just give your phone number out to everyone that you meet, because you will end up with lots of phone numbers of people you don’t even speak to anymore, and you’re too scared to delete their contacts. Also, you will get a smartphone one day. I won’t tell you when, that’s a surprise. But keep waiting in anticipation. Your waiting will one day pay off.

Act, dream, write, sing, dance, do the things that you’re good at. The more you do them now, the easier it will become for you to do them when you get to where I am. You won’t be able to do Street Dance, even though I know you really wanted to, but there are other things you can do. Keep up all your talents and hobbies. Keep drawing! Don’t stop because the moment you do is the moment you might lose your ability. Don’t rip up your drawings when you’re mad or when you’re upset. Don’t make hasty decisions when you’re mad or upset. Try and manage your emotions properly. Channel them. Talk to people, never, EVER bottle your emotions. It will only cause more damage and pain than you can begin to fathom. (I know you know what fathom means, don’t worry).

Don’t stop reading or dreaming. Sometimes they can be the same things. Keep reading, but PLEASE I beg you, stop reading Jacqueline Wilson. (I think you’ve probably grown out of her by now). Also, don’t read romances. They won’t get you anywhere and will fuel this entirely unrealistic romanticist nature in your teenage years. And don’t read manga either, no matter who tries to get you to. Read historical fiction. I have a hunch that you’ll really like reading about the Tudors, and Ancient Greece and Rome. Learn about the world around you. Learn about the past, and the present. Learn about your heritage, your culture, where you came from. Ask questions. Never stop dreaming.

What you can stop, however, is relying on your friends. The sooner you grow out of being a follower, the better. Your friends will try and make you do things that you don’t want to do. Sometimes, if you let them, they will succeed. But you have to be independent. You have to learn how to cope for yourself and make your own decisions. Sorry to disappoint you, but none of your ‘best friends’ from primary school will even talk to you by Year 11. The people you will find as your friends will surprise you. And popularity doesn’t matter. Friends aren’t about how many you have, or how popular they make you. Friends are about the people who are there for you time and time again.

You’ve probably got a huge crush on someone right now, I don’t know who, and it would probably make me laugh just remembering. But if you can (the key word here being ‘if’) just leave off boys for a couple years. Say… 52? Wait until you’re 60. That’ll probably make your life a lot easier. Obviously this is unrealistic, but just try and be patient. Not every boy that you like is going to be your future husband LOOOL. Don’t mistake liking the attention someone gives you for liking someone. Have expectations and standards. I mean, I know you’re only 8, but boys are barely all that and a bag of chips.

No matter what happens, no matter what you achieve or where you go, remember where you’ve come from. You will go on to do great things. You will change your life goals 4 times, probably even more, seeing as I haven’t quite settled yet. You will be a Queen and then an Empress, you will rule nations and empires, you will advocate for Black History Month and slowly evolve into a social justice warrior. (I know that doesn’t exist just yet, but I promise you, it’s as worthwhile as it sounds). You will experience things you have never experienced before, you will have your expectations reached and exceeded.

Believe in yourself. Trust that you can, and will, do amazing things.

And, one last thing, for your near-future: I’d appreciate if you could lay off the Disney please. The soundtracks take up an awful amount of phone (and mind) space, and they’re too catchy. Be into them, by all means, but don’t be such a die-hard fan.

Lots of love,

16-year-old You (aka. The Faerie Squad Mother) x


Oops! I Forgot to Post…

I’ve recently discovered one of my favourite phrases to use during my posts on this blog. This comes in many forms, but interestingly, they vary so much that I can’t even find some of these. After a quick search for them, I found a few, some of them being:

“I’ll post about that another time.”

“That’s a story for another day.”

“But I’ll write about that later.”

Amongst others. So I had a quick scroll through all my posts and found some things (but probably not all) that I said I would post about later, but never ended up posting.

  1. Thinking About the Future (found in my second-ever post; I reference to the future a lot, but I don’t think that ‘Dear Future Husband‘ really counts as thinking about the future in a profound sort of way…)
  2. Racist and Offensive Opinions of Small-Minded White People (which was in the recent rant about Black History, and I’m pretty I’ve mentioned it briefly before)
  3. Street Shakespeare (when I was talking about my One-Man shows)
  4. Why I Should Be Voted Prime Minister of England (does this even need context?)
  5. A Rant About Visiting the Care Home with NCS (but the thing about rants is that you can only rant when you’re in the mood… so this post doesn’t seem like to happen)
  6. Turning Books into Movies (I actually posted this, though?)
  7. Why Disney Sucks (but I always talk about this, though haven’t done an actual post dedicated to this… I suppose to some extent ‘Fairy Tales Should Be Illegal’ counts, but not really? I mean, that was more generic than specifically aimed at Disney)
  8. How To Be A Boy 101 (long story short, I wrote 11 pages of this social satire when I was half-tired in Wales during NCS, at about 12 at night, and it made me cringe so much when I read it back; I literally indirected so much, and I know why now LMAO)
  9. My 10 Questions (The Sisterhood of the World Blogger Award required me to write 10 questions, so I did, but I wanted to answer them myself. So maybe I shall)

Don’t get too excited. This post doesn’t mean that I have the intention to write about these all soon, but I will try my best. (No promises, because we know how well those have gone down, looking up at that 9 strong list there…) And this was just a quick post anyway.

Also, I have updated my site and its pages, so I’ve moved my ‘Exam Diaries‘ page, and now have an ‘Ask The Faerie Squad Mother‘ page, where you can drop comments and questions, and I’d love for you to do that as well. (I’ve put the links in there, in case you can’t find them, but they should be on the Menu along the bottom of your page.)

But that’s it today. Perhaps you would like me to post some of the points above, and maybe I will at some point. Keep reminding me. 🙂

Take care everybody, and have fun going back to school LOL.

The Faerie Squad Mother x



Dear Future Husband

First of all, I’d like to offer you my (premature) congratulations. It will be a commendable achievement to have married me. I don’t know what more you could ask for but clearly your life will be very complete with me in it. Likewise, I will take this time to also offer my condolences. It is also quite unfortunate that you will consciously make the choice to spend the rest of your existence with me. I apologise in advance, and also question your sanity and clarity of choice.

So this is a letter for you. (And all the other people who are following my blog who will read this.) I don’t know if you are reading this right now or if you will one day hear this read out to you on our wedding day by my Head Bridesmaid, but either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to write this anyway. 

I don’t know how old you are but I SINCERELY hope that you’re already alive. Someone 16 years my junior definitely would not be my preference. Additionally, I hope that you are doing well in school and that (if you are doing A-Levels) you’re doing amazing because your girl isn’t right now. If you’re at University, l hope you’re studying something that will benefit you in the future and something that we won’t have arguments about during our marriage. Graduate quickly. Do well. I believe in you. Whichever Uni you may be at. And, I suppose it’s too much to pray you’re not doing lots of things that you will regret and that you will be reluctant to tell me about.

Just a few requirements. I’m going to need you to learn all the Troy parts in HSM songs because I can’t sing both his and Gabriella’s at the same time. I can’t sing harmonies, it’s simply impossible. So it’s very important that you can do that for me. You will also need to learn some (by which I mean the majority) of Disney songs, songs from the Sound of Music, Annie and any other musicals later needed, because I often burst into spontaneous song. If you don’t know them and cannot join in with me or finish off my lines then I can assure you it will put a strain on our relationship.

Also, if you don’t like my sister… Wait, that won’t happen. LOL If you don’t like my sister then I won’t even consider marrying you. So the fact that you are marrying me means that you are practically best friends with my sister. Ignore me, silly me.

You’re going to need to be good at and/or like cleaning. I don’t like cleaning. I prefer to cook. So I’m going to need someone to wash the dishes… i.e. You. I don’t mind cleaning but I just don’t like it. So you can do it. You should be able to cook quite competently though, because I don’t think I can be bothered to cook all the time. And if I get sick or something, I don’t want to have to eat takeaway constantly. I’d like home-cooked soup and stuff. (Also I’m a vegetarian and that doesn’t seem like to change so… Be aware of that?)

It’s necessary for you to be able to do DIY. I refuse. I just refuse to do it. So you’re going to have do that.

Also you need a sense of humour and strong sense of self-worth. My family are savage. They will tear you to pieces verbally and if you are unable to take it on the chin gracefully and suffer them and then even give it back, then I’m sorry, you’re not the right person for me. There is no place for fragile masculinity in my household or my family. So that’s not an option.

Being non-socially aware is also not an option. You need to understand my struggles and even if you don’t experience them yourself you need to understand and sympathise where necessary. No more said. 

My mum needs to like you. Seriously. This is very important. My dad will probably take a long (ish) time to warm to you and that’s okay but if my mum doesn’t like you then… We have a problem, Houston.

Religion is important. I don’t doubt that you are the same denomination as me, purely because it’s difficult to have to compromise in my religion without giving up some of my beliefs entirely. Also when we have children (not if, when, because they’re a priority for me) I don’t want to have to fight about which denomination we raise them in.

Children. Seeing as you influence their surnames, I think it’s only fair that I get to choose their names. You can have the middle name if it will make you happy. I’m joking, you can help to influence the choice, but ultimately the choice comes down to me.

I am not conventional. I am prone to bursting into spontaneous song and dancing etc. in the kitchen. I dance in the bathroom. I dance in my bedroom. I dance everywhere. I burst into tears at the slightest thing. (Downton Abbey Season reruns are the biggest cause of this and I often need lots of consolation after particularly distressing episodes. Also some books evoke the same response.) I have an addiction to chocolate which you will have the God-given responsibility to encourage and I like just putting on Classical Music and prancing about. I don’t like wearing pyjamas to bed, I prefer t-shirts and shorts. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning very disorientated, I look quite terrifying and zombie-like. To which I say, for better or for worse.

I’m not sure what else to add really. I’m sure if you are marrying me you will know and learn a multitude of things which I would be reluctant to post online on a public website. You will discover all my lovely bad habits, you will learn how I function and how I deal with a majority of traumas. You will probably already know how dramatic I am.

But I look forward to meeting you, marrying you and quite frankly I wish you all the best.

Lots of love, your future wifey

The Faerie Squad Mother x



A Wish Lis(z)t

The title was a pun. For those who get the joke, congratulations. For those of you who don’t, I am very much into Classical Music, and one of my favourite ever pieces is ‘Liebestraum‘ by the composer named Franz Liszt. So. That’s it. A pretty pathetic joke, but a joke nonetheless.

*Clears throat*

It’s coming up to the Christmas period (I mean, it practically is Christmas already) and there’s this hype – that naturally, I very much dislike. Seeing as I haven’t done a list for a while, I thought, let’s be a bit different. So, I’m going to write a wish list. Which of course, will be fuelled with bitterness and sarcasm.

Before we start though, I’d just like to say: I’m not a Christmas cynic. I’m not Ebenezer Scrooge, and I don’t have anything against Christmas. (I am, after all, a Christian). HOWEVER, the one thing I DON’T like about this time of year is the commercialisation of something which was a religious festival. I mean, the principles of celebrating Christmas are somewhat pagan anyway, but we’ll ignore that for now.

Christmas has become more of a secular celebration than a religious one, Jesus is no longer the ‘Reason for the Season’. (If you would excuse the cheesiness) Presents are the reason; EVERYONE, no matter what religion, buy their family and friends presents. So it just doesn’t make sense to me. Because, I mean, the media doesn’t make as much of a storm about Eid or Diwali, or other religious festivals. (Clearly, it just doesn’t think these other events are as profitable enough to commercialise and secularise so…) But ANYWAY. This isn’t ‘Rianna’s Rant About the Media’s Secularisation of a Traditionally-Christian Holiday’. (Maybe that can be my Christmas Day special).

No. This is ‘Rianna’s Rant – in the form of a Lis(z)t’. Sorry. I really had to drop that in again. In case you missed it the first time.

So let’s go.


I wish that…

  1. Everyone thought twice about their shopping exploits. For the whole year round, everyone’s complaining that they’re broke. I mean, understandably, because of the government and the impossible living conditions nearly everyone (other than the elite) are in, but I’ll just… sip my tea. But everyone is ‘broke’, then they spend money they don’t have on ONE day of the year. Then at the end of it, they’re even MORE broke. I mean, come ON. Do you NEED that one-of-a-kind, limited edition, gold and platinum plated toothbrush? No. Is that diamond-encrusted toilet roll dispenser entirely necessary to impress your visiting relatives? The answer is no. Do you have to buy a game you may play with once and then never again? No you don’t. Put it down, and save your money.
  2. Everyone was as friendly at Christmas as every other day. You get cards from people who didn’t even knew you existed (albeit, your name is spelt incorrectly, but it’s the passing thought that counts, right?), Secret Santas are (mostly) pretty sweet, and everyone seems more willing to share their chocolate. (Chocolate. 🙂 ) But why is it that every other day of the year, people ignore you. I mean, okay yes people ignore you at Christmas, but LESS so. And you’d think everyone was your best friend. But there’s more of a sharing spirit, mostly, and that should definitely be translated into every other day.
  3. People could spell my name correctly. This isn’t a big one, but for me, it is very irksome that people just cannot spell my name correctly; especially in cards that look so lovely. It’s not difficult. There’s no ‘h’. Stop putting an ‘h’ into my name. Stop removing an ‘n’. I need that ‘n’. Really. Put it back.
  4. Nobody left their shopping to the last minute. Do you know how anxiety-inducing Christmas shopping is? It’s horrible. Enough said.
  5. Houses always smelled like pine needles. When people have real Christmas trees, their houses smell AMAZING. Every other day, the said houses smell like… Well, who even knows, because the smell is blocking your nose. And also…
  6. Rooms always had to be this tidy. You’d think that the whole family was eating dinner in your room for the amount of tidying you’ve had to do. And, to be honest, after all the effort you’ve put into making it so tidy, you sort of wish that everyone COULD eat dinner in your room, just so you can show it off. Seriously.
  7. People remembered the significance behind this day. No, it’s not JUST a time of exchanging presents. No, it’s not JUST a day to roast a chicken and boil brussel sprouts. (I LOVE brussel sprouts though…) It was originally a Christian holiday. It’s about celebrating the birth of Jesus. The whole idea of giving presents stems from the idea of the wise men giving presents to Jesus. There is a religious principle behind this whole day. Please. Try to remember this.
  8. People stopped caring so much about decorations. Some people say that the older you get, the less you care. I don’t know how true that might be for you, but for me, it’s very much true. Right now, I don’t know what I want for Christmas. I don’t really care very much, and it doesn’t affect me at all that we don’t have (and have no intention of putting up) a Christmas tree in our front room. Like, they make so much mess, and YES they’re fun to decorate, but then you’ve got to UN-decorate them, and that’s not fun. It hurts. It hurts taking down all the painstakingly arranged ornaments. *Sobs silently*
  9. Presents weren’t made into such a big deal. So your 6 year-old didn’t get the right colour iPad that they wanted? Boohoo. The 6 year-olds who MADE your child’s iPad hardly had your child’s Christmas in mind when they were waking up at 3am to assemble parts in a factory half-way across the world. And who cares if you’ve got socks again. Great. You’ve got more things to keep your feet warm while others in colder parts of this country wish that THEY had got the socks you discard underneath your bed. Presents have become the focus. Yes, presents are great. Yes, presents can be lovely, agreed. But they’re not important, and they promote a consumerism attitude, and it’s entirely unnecessary.
  10. Downton Abbey Christmas Specials were more widely appreciated. I mean, this Christmas’s one will be the last one (cri cri) but nobody appreciates them. Who is there to discuss them with who actually watches them? Fix up everyone. Clearly your priorities are all wrong.
  11. I can scroll through Social Media sites without seeing everyone’s perfectly-wrapped (or unwrapped) gifts. Like really. I don’t care. Get off my feed.
  12. There wasn’t so much wasted food. Look, I know this is a difficult concept to understand but… just because it’s December 25th, doesn’t mean that your stomach’s capacity suddenly increases. JUST COOK THE SAME AMOUNT OF FOOD THAT YOU USUALLY DO. If more people are coming, grettttt, cook a little bit more. STOP COOKING ENOUGH FOOD TO FEED THE THIRD WORLD IF ALL YOU’RE GOING TO DO WITH IT IS THROW IT AWAY AFTER GETTING SICK OF EATING SO MUCH CHICKEN IN A ROW. GET A SMALLER CHICKEN. STOP. STOP. I HATE food being wasted already, you’re just WASTING MORE. DON’T COOK WHAT YOU WON’T EAT. LISTEN TO ME. THIS IS IMPORTANT. It’s so important I had to type it all in Caps.
  13. There weren’t so many tutorials for EVERYTHING. I don’t want to learn how to make a Christmas wreath with the hairs of the squirrel in my back garden. I don’t want to spend all day hand-making Christmas cards that only end in my hands being covered in paper-cuts. We all KNOW that nothing we make will never even half resemble the pictures from the tutorial. And I may not be a professional, but I don’t feel like 15minutes and 39seconds of ‘How to Make: Homemade Christmas Frames (Glitter optional)’ will be a worth-while expenditure of time.
  14. Christmas jingles weren’t so catchy. Constantly humming them in my head. Irritating.
  15. Everyone could spread out the days of their shopping. When I just want to go up to my shopping centre and browse in the bookstore, I don’t need people lining every shelf. You don’t even come in here usually! Why the sudden interest? Please. Fully stress.
  16. More people effectively utilised the excuse to dress-up and/or paint their faces etc. Do you understand all the potential there is to just look like an utter idiot all day? Why would you NOT want to do that? Wear your Christmas jumper. Paint your face. Be Rudolph. Do whatever. Nobody can stop you. It’s Christmas.

I think I’m done now. And on that note, I think that was a good way to end:

‘Nobody can stop you. It’s Christmas.’

I mean, unless you’re planning on doing something illegal or ill-advised. In which case, the LAW and the POLICE can stop you. So please don’t. (Also, would I be implicated in your crime for somewhat encouraging you?) On second thoughts, let me rectify that statement.

‘Nobody can stop you, as long as you intend to remain a safe, law-abiding citizen of [insert country you reside in here]. And don’t let the fact that it’s Christmas make you feel like you are suddenly exempt from the law… but yes, act like an utter idiot if you want to. As long as you are acting like a SAFE utter idiot who is not endangering yours (or anyone else’s) life.’

Stay safe everyone, take care, don’t accept gifts from strangers. And have a great holiday.

RiRi x