I went and did my grocery shopping (hahah) in my parents garden, came home and decided I wanted to bake something.  The only thing I had all the ingredients for were apple flapjacks:

Ingredients

250g (8oz) butter
250g (8oz) caster sugar
175g (6oz) golden syrup
425g (14oz) porridge oats
2 apples, peeled and chopped

Preheat oven to Gas 4, 180°C, 350°F.

Grease and line base a 20x30cm (8x12in) cake tin with baking parchment.

Melt butter, caster sugar and golden syrup together in a pan, stirring until sugar has dissolved.

Remove from heat and stir in oats and apples.

Spread mixture in tin and bake for 20-25 minutes. Cut into 12-14 bars; allow to cool before turning out of the tin.

So, that’s how I might like you to think it happened, but in all honesty, I’m not that great.  ….

So I want to be a better blogger.  Good plan, right?  Well sometimes I struggle.  Ok, ok, maybe we should just scrap that first bit because to be a better blogger I probably shouldn’t admit that I’m bad at it whilst I’m trying to entertain you with a post, right?

Let’s re-start.

Hi, I’m Jen and I’m awesome.  Wait….what?  Too much ego in that sentence?  You’re right, that will not make me a good blogger.  People do not like to hear about how awesome I am…when it’s probably not true (well it is true, I just maybe shouldn’t say it outright) – the writing should speak for itself – she says).

Let’s re-start.

:::go get coffee:::

Let’s re-start.

I was struggling for a topic for this blog post and so Google told me to write about my favourite Christmas memory… You have got to be sh*tting me!?  Really!?  Is this REALLY the best you could come up with? Jen,  If you’re going to write about your favourite Christmas memory please do not tell the internet it’s because Google told you too?  You’re not in school and this isn’t an essay – you do not need to buffer to make it 1,500 words!

Let’s re-start.

I was staring at the screen for 5.43 hours and… STOP!  This is just not working.  People who read your blog do not want to read about how long you’ve been procrastinating for.  For reals!  Pull yourself together Jen, if you’ve got that long to procrastinate about thinking of something to write GO OUT and find something to write about.  You probably have nothing to say because you’ve done nothing.  This will not be interesting for ANYONE!

Let’s re-start….tomorrow.

Today we’ve learnt:

Rule #1 – we should not whine on about how bad we are at blogging – feel free to tell the people who read your blog that you’re taking a hiatus (people will be glad to know you didn’t die…in most cases), but please do not drop of the planet for 3 months (I’m very much using myself as an awesome example) then come back with a “sorry I’ve not blogged…I’ve just been doing…well…nothing”.  If you come back it needs to be all guns blazing and no apologies.  “Hi everyone, I’ve been having an awesome time scuba diving in the South of France…”.

Rule #2 – let’s not overdo the self praise – if you’re really that amazing show it, don’t say it.  Actions speak louder than words (that’s what my mum says anyway!).

Rule #3 – adding in extra words to ‘pad-out’ a post will not score you any points.

Rule #4 – oh look, another rule about whining! Do not whine about procrastinating – we all do it, but no-one really wants to read about it.

Rule #5 – If you’re struggling for post ideas why not ask your audience??

Expect to learn from more of my mistakes very soon!!

Listening to:  Doctor P feat Jenna G – Neon

“If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.”

-Loran Eisley

Do you ever wake up the morning after the night before and struggle to understand where you left your hangover?

This has been happening often lately.  I got out of bed this morning to find 3 empty bottles of wine, an empty Malibu bottle and several other bottles scattered around my kitchen.  Along with 4 empty pizza boxes.  So it figures that I should be hungover, right?  I mean, I almost (almost!) feel ripped off.  What is the point of getting so drunk you know you’re going to feel rough the next day?  Having a hangover gives you a bonafide reason to stay in your PJs all day and watch trashy TV.

I feel cheated.  CHEAT I TELL YOU.  Not that I’d complain too much as in all honesty I’m pretty sure I’d be borderline miserable if I actually had a hangover.

So I got up, put on some clean PJs and settled in for a day on the internet making plans, eating a whole bag of cookies and wasting time…because what else do you do when you’d planned for a hangover?

What did you do last night?

- that you realise just how lucky you are

- that you appreciate everyone around you

- that you stop whining about all the inconsequential bullsh*t

- that you remember just because something isn’t happening on your doorstep that it still has an effect on you

- that you realise there are massive drawbacks to having such a wide community of friends

- that you realise how much those people mean to you

- that you send the most important ones messages telling them that under no circumstances can they travel anywhere that isn’t inland

- that you realise you live on an island

- that you’re reminded that your town is surrounded by water on 3 sides

- that you’re country can only just about cope with a spontaneous tea party (it’s less likely if there are scones involved)

- that you remind yourself to appreciate how luck you are

What happened to you today?

Listening to:  Loick Essien – Love Drunk

Do I look older?  I sound older…as in when you say my age…not literally.  Like my voice hasn’t dropped like a teenage boy’s or anything…panic over! But when people say my age out loud I find it offensive and I’m all “what the deuce!?”…but I still feel like a 16 year old.  Bonus for me.

Now that’s over let’s get down to it.

I’m busy.  Like crazy busy.  Hence lack of blogging.  Sorry (not that it’s like you expect something awesome from me, because we faced the fact that I suck a long time ago, right?).

I don’t even have enough to say that I can warrant a “let’s break it down in bulletpoints” post.

Most importantly….did you see your new 20SB team?  They’re pretty damn fine, if I do say so myself.  Hmm, that was a pretty big presumption that you’re all in your twenties.  Meh.

This is possibly the most pointless post in history the history of blogging, but at least I admitted it before you said it!

Major fail.

I have missed you guys though!  What’ve you been upto?

Listening to:  Jamie Woon – Lady Luck

Do you ever go to bed early on a Sunday evening thinking that it might help the week go smoother?  Except it’s 10pm and you’re in bed and you can’t sleep because there’s, what sounds like, a B52 bomber sleeping next to you and all you want to do is put a pillow over its face or slit your wrists.   Then this early night turns into 4 early nights and you’re more tired than ever before because unexplainable things are stressing you out and you can’t sleep for going over things in your head, and the to-do lists, and the haven’t-done lists, and the need-to-do lists, and the holy-crap-I-don’t-have-time-for-this lists and did I mention that World War III is still going on next to me whilst I fail to get to sleep for the fourth night in a row?

Then every night you have a massive list of things to do and the list isn’t even urgent and could wait until next week but you feel like you have to do it because otherwise you have to explain your slackness, which isn’t actually slackness and is maybe partly caused by the couple of weirdly grey hairs you’ve found in your head (that you thought you’d pulled out!) and all the other things that are piling on top of you and the thought of another sleepless night just makes you want to run away.

But on the brightside this should hopefully only carry on another another 2 or 3 weeks (it’s been 3 already) and you give an awesome pokerface and everyone says it seems easier when you’re around because you have a way at cheering people up (even if it is with a dirty comment or something highly inappropriate).

So you put up with the terrible nights sleep and manage to fix a problem that’s been making you anxious all day and then tomorrow is Friday and you made it through the week.

How’s your week so far?

Listening to:  Loick Essien – Stuttering

GANGING.  Not GAGGING.  What’s wrong with you?  Sheesh!  Pervert.

Anyhow, the world is literally killing me right now.  My laptop dies every hour, at least, in amongst it freezing or having what I only describe as seizures.  Seriously.  It needs to be medicated.

So my laptop’s issues (it’s like a highly sensitive pubescent teenager girl) have been going on literally for months and seeing as though I use this thing for a minimum of 5 or 6 hours a day it’s become particularly frustrating.

I’ve learnt how to play the little tyrant at it’s own games a little though.  I’ve figured out it only likes to run one process at a time.  So I can run Firefox and I can run Photoshop, but I can’t run both together.  I mean I can’t even have an external hardrive plugged in if I actually want to do anything.  I’ve deleted every programme bar Photoshop – it really has gotten that bad.  I could do a 3-mile run in the time it takes to actually load when it’s been switched off (not that I’m saying I would).

So, earlier I was trying to install a .xml file / flash file onto a site.  This would normally be pretty damn easy.  Not tonight.  It’s technology fail night.  So after 4 or 5 attempts I gave up and decided to do something else.

I was like “well I haven’t blogged in a day or two, perhaps I’ll give that a go” and I had something pretty funny in store for y’all – obviously!  Anyway, I grabbed my phone to pull up what I was going to post, as it was part of a conversation I’d had over the weekend.  I scrolled through miles of texts (yes, I’m that popular!), finally found the right section and…WAIT….WHAT?  Did my phone REALLY just die?  I don’t even know what to say right now!

Other than this:

This morning, before work, I spent $2,500.  Yes.  I really did that.  On Wednesday I will meet my new favouritest person in the entire universe (well, almost).  I’ll be sure to introduce you all to Zorro (that’s his name), my soon-to-be new iMac!  Oh yes!  It’s really happening!!

That was all.

Listening to:  Jessie J – Price Tag

That’s unrelated.  So anyway…

Someone made a comment to me recently about how great it must to be British.  I was a little confused to say the least.  Like really?  Did you REALLY mean that?  It’s cold, it’s like a little island compared to most countries and with the amount of people living here illegally (for free, I’d like to add) we’re probably going to sink before the time I reach 30.  If I ever reach 30 that is.

But, you know what, it probably is pretty good being British.  It’s like we’re seen as a novelty item.  Like that candy thong you bought your dad because you thought it was funny.  No?  Just me?  Ugh, how do I get myself in this mess.

Moving on.

So yeah, where were we?  Oh right, novelty items.  No, being British, that’s it.

I’ve figured out that the main thing people from other countries relate to someone being British is the Queen.  She is pretty awesome.  And old.  And stuff.  Did you know she’s of German decent?  Oh the irony.  But anyway, having a Queen means that we have a Royal family and I’m pretty sure simply being able to drop the word “royal” into an everyday conversation is what makes us British people so awesome.  For example:

“The parcel I posted via Royal Mail took approximately 2 months to arrive”

“Well aren’t you a royal idiot!”

“I think it was royally ridiculous when you got your dad an edible thong”

So yeah, see what I mean?  Adding the word “royal” to any sentence makes it so much more sophisticated.  So much more British.  And to think I didn’t think there was anything good about being British.

What things make your nationality worthwhile?

Listening to: Chromeo feat Elly Jackson – Hot Mess

I buy my lottery tickets online.  Because, you know, I’m far too busy to go to a store and get them.  Unlikely.  Whatever.  But maybe it’s really because if I win anything I get an email every Sunday morning to tell me so.  But it’s a bad email because it never tells me what I’ve won.  This allows me to convince myself I’ve won BIG.  For an entire 30 seconds (or longer if my laptop is having an episode) I (partially) believe that I may have actually won 5 million. Maybe 10 million.  Maybe more.  What!?  And in those 30 seconds I’ve spent the entire 5/10/15 million.  Then I die a little on the inside when I click the link and realise that instead of 10 million I’ve just won 10.  What’s even more distressing is that I’ll never be able to afford to open a bar called the Scarlett Pimpernel with £10 / $15!  Never!  But it’s such a good name and really worthy of a bar.  And we’d have loyalty cards for the regulars coloured in scarlett just the word Pimp written on them.  Because who wouldn’t want one?  This makes life so disappointing.

Hi Sunday, love you really!

Listening to:  Wretch 32 – Traktor