On Wednesdays, We Wear Pink.

Sooo sorry I haven't posted in like 12 days (I know it's hard on you guys), but I have been crazy busy starting college and getting lost in bristol repeatedly and getting lost in college and basically just being very, very lost (figuratively and like, literally).

My first few days were kinda a mixture of confused-ness, alone-ness and desperation...ness. I think I imagined starting a new college (in a new city) as being a bit like Mean Girls.*

*Except less bitchiness and definitely no corpse bride costumes.

I thought I'd go into my lessons 'The New Girl' but walk out having found my niche, with a few new best friends, and basically fitting right in. Obviously that's an exaggeration, but I genuinely did expect to find a friendship group in those first few days and instantly feel like I belonged.

Of course, that didn't happen and instead, I spent a lot of time at breaks and between lessons walking aimlessly, trying to give the impression that I knew where I was going and, oh, my friends are just around the corner. I actually had to ask one girl if I could follow her. Yeah, you read that right. Follow her. As soon as I said it I knew that was the end of re-creating myself as an independent, confident Bristolian and the beginning of being known as 'The Stalker Girl'. Luckily, I'd picked a forgiving, and hopefully deaf, victim for my word vomit and she seemed perfectly happy (but maybe she was too freaked out to say anything) to give me the job as her shadow for the day.

And that was only the second day.

I want to say that I turned it around, I now actually have got loads of friends, and I don't get lost anymore, but if I did, I'd be lying.

I don't know how long it'll be before I can stop having a little nervous breakdown every lunchtime when I realise I have no-one to sit with, or when I feel like I've found people I know well enough to hang out with outside of college but until that day comes, I have my Kindle and a notebook full of sassy, feminist ranty songs.

I'd have to say one of the highlights of my week so far was getting free (veggie) burgers from a church near my college. When I heard about this, I thought there would be like a little room in the back of the church where me, and the 7 other lonely people, were sat on fold-out chairs eating soggy burgers while worship songs from the 1990s played through a CD player in the corner. It was nothing like that. I swear literally every single Post-16 (and uni) student was in the queue for these burgers. The queue looked like a crowd waiting to go into a concert at Rock City and the church looked like it was hosting a craft fair. Bunting and all.

I managed to tag along with groups when I went to get my burgers (of course I've been three times), just in case you think I stood eating my burger, ketchup stained and alone. I'm not sure if that image is less pathetic than the reality, which was me hobbling, failing miserably to balance my burger, ice lolly and squash, while the group I was with disappeared further and further into the horizon. Yeah, I still haven't perfected the art of not being forgotten.

I'll get it eventually.

I hope.

In other news, I have been added into a 'Gender Equality Movement' page on Facebook, which is equal parts flattering and terrifying. I'm not sure what these people are going to think of a randomer skipping in, waving a feminist flag and attempting to act casual.

I so, so, hope that in my next post (probably in another 12 days) I will be able to tell you about all my amazing friends I've made* and how much easier college is but I doubt it.

*I've met amazing people but I'm not sure they want to refer to me as a 'friend' yet.

Stay awesome and stay Mean Girls-loving.

Goodbye My Lover, Goodbye My Friend

Every so often I go through my twitter and make sure my tweets give the impression of a cool gal with some cute quirks, rather than a social-life-less teenage girl with a slightly addictive personality.

Yeah, it's hard.

So I was scrolling down my twitter profile the other day and decided to (bravely) make a little compilation of the tweets that I probably should have censored a while ago. I'm afraid these tweets don't exactly fit my desired persona but hey, if that was the aim, I shouldn't have made this blog.

1.The time me and one of my best friends, Emma, walked into our physics classroom singing 'I'M SO HOLLOW BABAYYY I'M SOOO HOLLOW" and promptly got sent out. It remains the single proudest moment of my life.








2. The time I got emotional about being the only person I know who will happily watch Japanese animation and eat pink goo for hours on end. How does that not sound appealing?




3. The time I became a one-woman-banana-nesquik-hoovering-machine.




4. The time I decided to break tradition and buy a mini tinsel Christmas tree. Unfortunately, it was more of an aqua colour rather than pink but I still treasured it and even bought little baubles and fairy lights to decorate it with.




5. The time I was rehearsing for one of my GCSE drama performances and during my big, dramatic monologue I managed to obtain an almost perfect welsh accent.





6. The time (two days ago) when I watched the Vampire Academy film then bought the first three books then read them then attempted to run away and become a vampire. I'm now on book six.






7. The time I watched the Vampire Diaries season 5 finale and got my heart broken.

8. The time (yesterday) I was having stationary-withdrawal-symptoms and bought 24 Sharpies.





9. The time I tried to revise physics and music and failed.





10. The other time I tried to revise physics and failed.



11. The final time I tried to revise physics. And failed.





12. The time I packed my bag whilst half-asleep.





13. The time I rekindled my year 5 addiction of cheap milk bottles.





14. The time I went to a talk at church and the guy said something really cool.






15. The time I cried over some hilarious person's ranting.





16. The time I finally realised that the purpose of twitter is to unveil hidden parts of your personlity.













I hope you enjoyed this insight into my twitter. In case you want to keep up with my erratic tweeting and addictive retweeting, my account is @electriclils

How To Keep A Tidy Home Without Breaking A Nail

My (well my mum’s, no 16 year old can actually afford a magazine subscription) monthly Red magazine arrived through the post this week*.

*That sounds like an awful metaphor a teacher would use for periods in a Year 6 sex-ed class.

One of the features was the ‘Red’s Women Of The Year’ awards and I literally fan-girled over it. It not only included middle-aged women I had never heard of, but also BBC Radio 1 presenters and even some fellow bloggers*.

*I say ‘fellow’, but I will never, ever be in the same league as these women.

Of course, being Red, and being just an all-round fab magazine, these awards weren’t for ‘The World’s Sexiest Woman’ or ‘Greatest Arse of 2014’ but instead were for innovators, leaders and world-changers. Each one inspired me in a different way, whether it was to speak more openly about the issues concerning FGM and abuse, to carry on this blog or to not be afraid of having power.

What I really came away with, however, was that feminism isn’t just about the women we see on our TVs and hear about, campaigning for equal rights, or the celebrities (like B-queen) making a stand at a huge, sold-out arena, but also how the little people, like me and you, live our lives.

This sounds really patronising but feminism is all about standing up for ourselves, and for women everywhere, whether it be to thousands of screaming fans or just to those few guys at school who haven’t hit puberty yet and are completely and utterly up themselves. This is especially tricky for me as I go to church. I’m not saying everyone there believes in a patriarchal society or that they hand us booklets titled ‘Cooking For Your Husband’ and ‘How To Keep A Tidy Home Without Breaking A Nail’, but if I can discuss feminism with a male youth leader I can pretty much discuss it with anyone. And so can you, gurl!*

*Or guy, whoever is reading this really.

I think the last give-away that I was feminist, to anyone who didn’t already know (I’m 98% sure they lived in caves), was my Facebook post:

#yesallwomen
"Because the odds of being attacked by a shark are 1 in 3,748,067, while a woman's odds of being raped are 1 in 5....yet fear of sharks is seen as rational while being cautious of men is seen as misandry."

The worst thing was, some guys in my year (the prepubescent ones) found it funny. I’m all for the occasional light-hearted joke about women in the kitchen (actually I’m not, but I’m trying to appear jovial) but the fact that they found rape statistics funny was appalling. The status got 97 ‘likes’ and ended up with 435 comments. This status, if nothing else, proved to me how many people do actually care about this stuff. Another surprising thing was not only the number of people who commented on it, but the actual people who did the commenting. Of course, there were the typical ‘feminist-girls’ (me and a few others) but also a number of girls who, until now, had never spoken out about this topic or made it obvious to anyone how much they cared. I also got quite a few messages from girls too. Even if they weren’t brave enough to publicly comment, it had stirred something inside (probably anger and disgust) and that was what made me know all the notifications and hassle had been worth it.

Sorry for the rant, but I’m not quite finished. I’ve actually had to save half of my notes for this post for another day because sending you to sleep is not the aim. 

Or maybe it is. Mwa ha ha.

One of the quotes from the ‘Women Of The Year’ awards was from a blogger, Ella Woodward. It went a bit (exactly) like this, “You need to find one thing you care about. It doesn’t matter what that one thing is, because if it’s something that you have a passion for, other people will feel that and connect.”

Ella’s blog is deliciouslyella.com btdubz.

As you can probably tell, I took that quote to heart when writing this post. I realized that the one thing I’m really passionate about is advocating equality, particularly centered round gender and social justice. I know I’m young, and that all sounds pretty pretentious but I’m fairly sure that’s what I want to do with my life.

Please don’t ask me what job I want to do, or where I see myself in 10 years because I don’t know. Remember I’m still the 15 year old (except a few months older) whose only current life ambition is to own an angel delight factory.

Another quote I loved was “Girls’ and women’s lives have been so confined. What an extraordinary world it would be if everyone’s potential could be realized.” from Jude Kelly, the artistic director at Southbank Centre. I’m well aware I haven’t experienced much in my life, and that so many women have had to suffer and fight through injustice that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but there’s still such a long way to go on the road to equality. I’m so hopeful that our generation will take a few steps along that road instead of just sitting there basking in mediocrity. But this will only happen if the people who keep quiet about these things say something and make a stand. Sorry for the clichés but that’s the truth. If we are relying on the amazing women who made history to somehow rise from the dead and do it again, it’s time to wake up.

So, in fewer words, that’s what a lot of my posts will be about from now on. There will obviously still be the ridiculously long ramblings and gushing over fake flowers and pink glittery things, but along with that will be some 21^st century feminism.

I hope you guys can still relate to the things I talk about (plenty more embarrassing stories to come) and that you take something from my badly worded rants. I’m not optimistic enough to say you’ll be inspired but hopefully, as well as enjoying laughing at my mistakes, you’ll also be able to support me as I struggle through college as a 16 year old feminist with an unhealthy addiction to cheesy American TV programmes and the colour pink.

“I would love to see men and women be a lot less fearful of each other’s power and more trusting.” – Alice Feinstein (Editor of Woman’s Hour)

Paperchase Vs. WHSmith

It is official! I have spread my pastel pink, glittery wings and moved to Bristol.

I wish I could say it was for university or because 'I really feel like that's where I'm, like, going to, like, find myself....like' but I basically just followed my parents as that is what 16 year olds with no source of income or real life direction generally do. I would never have the guts to live somewhere where my mum wasn't readily on hand to buy me Quorn ham and to dish out steaming plates of criticism in the form of 'motherly advice'. I like to think of it as tough love (someone please adopt me).

I got lost in the middle of Bristol today and the bus driver confused me and I shouted at my mum and she swore at me and I cried and she cried and the bus driver cried and the whole city of Bristol cried*.

*If anyone has any knowledge of Bristol, please help me.

So, Bristol. I have officially lived here for 4 days now and still get confused as to what road I live on. It seems to be a common thing in Bristol for roads to be called the same name even though they're all very close to each other. It's frustrating and confusing, especially when I'm trying to get a bus and there are three bus stops on, according to their names, the same road. Also, the online timetable says my bus comes every twenty minutes but the timetable at the bus stop says it comes every hour and a half. So I had just started walking back to my flat (because who waits 53 minutes for a bus?) and, of course the bus comes sailing round the corner, singing a happy tune, as I desperately run to the bus stop and then proceed to mutter expletives at the bus timetable as I wait for the next bus*.

*I refused to leave the stop, just in case another off-the-charter bus wanted to make a surprise appearance.

I feel like I'm not portraying Bristol, or at least its public transport network, in the best light. I will list some cool things about it.

1. The shops. Maybe I lived in Nottingham for so long I was immune to its many commercial perks but I swear there are like three times as many shops here. If this was a fashion blog, maybeeee I'd do a post about what I got bought today but it's not and you guys don't want to read that.

2. The grass! Everywhere I look there is grass (as in the green stuff that grows in the ground not the widely-used illegal drug). Literally, the parks make me want to do exercise and be cute + independent and have a picnic-for-one whilst reading a Vogue magazine and instagram-ing the whole thing.

3. The cute little boutiques and individual shops. I saw a hair salon for kids today with little mini planes as seats and it was SO CUTE. Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute*.

*I use this word a lot. Get used to it. Love it. 

I have ran out of things but I think that is a pretty impressive list after only four days of living here. There's also stuff I dislike such as: the accent (hopefully I'll get used to it), the water (it tastes like bicarbonate of soda), the confusing road name thing (sort it out Bristol council people) and lastly, but not least, the lack of stationery shops. In Nottingham, you literally step out of your door and there is a new Paperchase doing a lap dance on your car whilst WHSmith heckles. Honestly, Nottingham loves its stationery.

So hopefully this has given you a teeny idea of what Bristol (and its grass) is like and how little I know about its ridiculous bus system.

I'm Not The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Before I start this post (as if I have actually planned anything to write, ha), I just want to thank you all for your lovely feedback.

 I'm well aware I'm not the first person on the planet to have ever received praise, but that's what it feels like, sort of. The difference between someone complimenting me on a (heavily edited) photo of my face on Instagram and being told that someone 'loves' my blog is monumental. This blog is the closest representation of myself that isn't, well, me (great observational skills there) and I pour a lot of energy (+ pointless web searches) into it. I am so impressed that a few of you actually manage to filter through the random facts, ridiculously long introductions and pointless bracketed side-notes to the actual meaning behind my words (not that there is much) and still enjoy it.

So, I think, in roughly 121 words, that is a thank you.

*has anyone else noticed how many commas I use in my sentences?

Now all that disgusting emotional stuff is over, let's get back to the real reason you're here. To watch me (or rather read) as I embarrass myself.

---cue few days intermission as I genuinely have nothing to write about today (27th)---

So, I'm back (29th) and I thought I actually had notes to write around. I wrote these notes after finishing the introduction and now, reading them over, they either make zero sense or make me wonder how I could ever think the note 'moving' would be helpful. Why couldn't 27th-August-Lily have written more a) comprehensible or b) detailed notes for 29th-August-stressing-because-she-needs-to-write-something-Lily? I mean, I can't be expected to remember any of this trivial stuff for two whole days.

I can't believe I am having a rant at myself.

I'm going to use these notes as starting points and see where it goes. I'm wary about this as the last time I decided to 'see where it goes', we ended up with the lengthy explanation of how I overcame my 'need to be different' and it was all very emotional and raw and I cried and you cried and we cried together.

At least I hope I wasn't the only one who cried.

Kidding, kidding (genuinely, there were real tears)...

Anyway, moving. Let's start with that note. I am officially (I think (I'm never very aware of everything going on around me)) moving on Sunday. Well technically all my stuff (and my family) are leaving on Saturday but I decided to stick around an extra day to a) say goodbye to some friends and b) put off moving for one more day. It still feels kind of odd that I'm actually leaving. I think I've been expecting someone to jump out from behind the camera and shout "Gotcha!" but that isn't going to happen, not that I would want it to as it sounds positively breaking-and-entering-esque, and I need to face up to the fact that I'm leaving, maybe forever.

Okay, if you're not crying now then you need to purchase a heart. Or some onions, either will do.

I was going to go on some spiel about leaving my friends and my fears of not going to the college I want to go to but you don't need to hear all that.*

*I'm fairly sure you've heard it all before, but if not check out this post - Semi-blog-consciousness*

*I had to double check this post and on further investigation, it barely scrapes the surface on all my feelings towards this subject of moving and, in true Lily fashion, leaves much to the imagination.

In other news, I've made a promise to myself to get back into playing my guitar and song-writing. It's not like I've got bored or anything but between being away most of the summer and watching endless episodes of Gossip Girl, I haven't had much of a chance. Writing songs used to be my only method of channeling emotions (mostly 10 year old jealousy) before starting this blog, and going through some of those songs makes me so nostalgic of when I was 7, and each song was about being a super-spy or someone called 'babe'. I also keep a diary and that, in a way, makes it easier for me to understand kids and people younger than me. Not because I have suddenly gained loads of life experience (or some weird Pied Piper of Hamelin flute) but because it shows me that when you're that age, little things really matter. Things like falling out with a friend over a paper mache butterfly and losing your favourite pencil.*

 *That pencil had my name and pink butterflies on it. Don't laugh.

In the films, people always find their diaries (in a scary-looking dusty box in their dark attic) and they hold some amazing secret about their parents or reveal hidden parts of themselves they had locked away and thrown away the key to. But in reality, these diaries (and the hundreds of songs scrawled onto Tracy Beaker writing paper) just make you cringe and remind you of all the stupid things you used to do. Not that I've changed. I nearly cried when my pink Sharpie ran out and would 100% still love to be a super-spy.

I feel like I'm about to go off on some awful monologue about something irrelevant so I'm going to stop this post here.

Gotcha!

No, unfortunately for you I wasn't joking and this post is ending. Right now.

What Filling Do You Want, Babe?

I'm not going to talk about results so if that's what you're here for then leave. Now.

(Please don't leave, I need friends.)

That said, I hope those of you who got results are pleased with them, and if you're not, you're eating bad ASDA Smart Price chocolate (we all know that's what Jesus would eat).

This brings me onto the actual purpose of this blog, which is me causing you to slowly and painfully wither away while I talk about myself, as if that hasn't happened already. For those of you who manage to survive, you can look forward to a fairly tedious list of things I like and dislike. People, ketchup brands, pasta shapes, music, flowers, feminism and TV programmes. Lucky you.

1. Heinz*. Any other brand is a sin against the entire human population. And tomatoes. The ring leader of this disgusting-ketchup-cult is Sainsbury's' own brand. I don't know whose job it is to control the brands of ketchup they stock but whoever it is needs a serious priority upheaval. And any of you who dare like it need to have a serious look at your lives.

(*btdubz*, it's available at poundland)

*by the way/for your information

2. Spaghetti. Any of you who are fortunate enough to know me (up close and personal yo) will be well aware of this addiction. I even asked for it for my birthday. I think I got about 6 packets overall. I could list so many foods but you already got all that in my second post so I won't go into it again (even though I could talk about it for hours).

3. Lily Allen. I literally love her a bit more (if it's possible) each time I think about her. That sounded so creepy and stalkery and maybe slightly lesbian but it is the absolute truth. Her lyrics are hilarious and actually tackle tough topics like the objectification of women and internet trolls. (I think it's so odd that we use the same name for someone who 'shows discord on the internet by starting arguments or upsetting people' as a 'supernatural being in Norse Mythology and Scandinavian Folklore'. I imagine the troll from the first harry potter film sitting behind a computer posting comments on photos of Britney Spears). Her videos are also great, most of them are really odd due to her alarming sense of humour and dress sense so I love them.

4. Feminism. 64 times out of 72, when I tell a guy (or even a gal) I'm a feminist, I can actually smell fear and see the panic behind their eyes. People are so scared of the word because of the violent/scary things people think it connotes but really it just means I don't agree with gender pay gaps and girls being expected* to make sandwiches for their boyfriends. I'm a feminist. Run.

*There's no crime in a devoted girlfriend making her boyfriend a sandwich (or any sort of food) if she's feeling generous but it is definitely not on the checklist.

5. Nashville, Made in Chelsea and The Vampire Diaries. In case you are interested in blessing your life (and TV screen) with these programmes, I'll give y'all a breakdown. Nashville is set in the city Nashville, Tennessee (in the U.S) and centres around the music industry there. It is fictional and amazing and full of beautiful country music. Made in Chelsea is a series that basically follows rich English people around. If you do happen to watch it, don't worry, it's all staged. The Vampire Diaries is.........perfect. I actually hated the first series because, having read the book, I felt the characters were undeveloped and unrealistic but once I got into it, there was no stopping me. I watched like 2 episodes a day for half a year (I started when they were already on series 4). It is pretty self-explanatory but in case you have no clue, it's about a girl who falls in love with a vampire. And another one*. And back to the first one again. Then back to the second one. Watch it. Love it.

*It's not just her that falls in love with him. You need to look after your heart if you decide to become a fan and prepare for it to be broken. So many times.

6. Little mini fake flowers. Don't get me wrong, I love real flowers too but these are low maintenance, don't take up any space and look SO CUTE. You can buy them from craft shops, I think. These are also self explanatory. I have put lillies, and different colour roses in bottles on my shelf. Three of which are Coca Cola bottles (one is glass, one says Lily and one is wearing lingerie) and one is a pink lemonade glass bottle.

7. Eliza Doolittle. I would have to say she is up there with Lily Allen on my girl crush list. No, she doesn't write as poignant or hilarious lyrics as Lily but she does write some fab songs*. She is very similar to Lily in that she has a ridiculously amazing voice, weird but wonderful dress sense and a frankness when it comes to song lyrics. She's just good with words, guys.

 *Faves are Team Player and Missing Kissing.

8.  Angelina Jolie. I have so many girl crushes, soz guyssss. I love, love, LOVE Angelina. She is a UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador which means she visits countries and raises "awareness of the plight of these people". She also co-lead a campaign against sexual violence in military conflict zones. All whilst having six kids and awesome cheekbones.

Well that's it. Can I just mention, I started this post at like 11 o clock this morning so it's taken me 10 hours to write. During that time, I have watched an episode of The Great British Bake Off, googled 'trolls from norse mythology', scrolled through the Everyday Sexism site, spent at least an hour on Lily Allen's wikipedia page (and about half an hour on Angelina's), eaten some aubergine thing, read my 4 year old brother about 73 stories, listened to the albums Sheezus by Lily Allen and In Your Hands by Eliza Doolittle and stared at hundreds of photos of Ian Somerhalder.

I am the queen of procrastination.

Compartmentalisation, It's a Trap.

I bring good news, a king has been born!

She's actually, well, a she, and 16 years old, but her blog is new and full of glorious, hilarious potential. Like I said, good news.

The name of this oh-so-revered blogger is unicyclelouise.

Such a brilliant name, so witty and colloquial! Yes, yes, I'm exaggerating in this awful attempt at advertising a blog but in all seriousness, she is destined for great things.  I have complete faith that she will perform many literary-miracles, and bring many people to the blog-faith through her wise words.

Aside from the biblical metaphors, the only way I can describe unicyclelouise's blog is as having a perfect balance of useless ramblings and thought-provoking ideas.

As you can hopefully tell, it is fabulous. I was actually quite reluctant to mention her on here, simply because I know that as soon as you get a whiff of her witty banter you will flock like athletically-gifted sheep around her.

The other day she wrote a post loosely centered around results day. For anyone reading this who has been blessed to not live in England, the results day for 17 and 18 year olds is today and the one for 16 year olds is in a week. Basically, mine, unicyclelouise's and the rest of the 16 year old population results day is coming up.

We have very different approaches to this. She decided to write a vaguely-self-help-y-in-a-good-way post about it, with a dash of insight into how we, as humans (or whatever you want to be, peace) deal with pressure.

She will go far.

I, however, am refusing to acknowledge it. I have this acceptance/denial system. I say I but I'm 96.3% sure most people experience this at least 96.3 times in their life.

Anyway, my theory is that whenever there is something not in my favour (results day, blood tests, paying back money, job applications, cleaning etc.) my brain is like "Nah mate". I swear I don't do this deliberately but I just completely block it out and 95 times out of 96.3 forget about it. Now this can actually be quite helpful, there's no point worrying about something inevitable like results day or blood tests for months, but it becomes a problem when you realise you owe your parents £136 and you have almost zero chance of getting job because you opened every job alert email you got and then promptly never thought about them again, until they had all gone to someone with a lesser tendency to put things off.

I like to call it compartmentalising but in reality it's just me being hopelessly unorganized when it comes to anything relatively important.

I'm really selling myself here.

So the difference between me and the blog-messiah unicyclelouise, is that will she not end up in debt to her parents, she will not forget to actually apply for a job, and she will most certainly will not compartmentalise to such an extent that she finds herself a week away from results day with no idea how she got here.

She already has one disciple.