oh snap i’m back

oh snap i’m back

Hello homies,

It’s ya girl, Amber.

I frickin’ hate the cliches of new years’ resolutions, but fuck it, I haven’t anything (other than ten tonnes) to lose.

Whatcha gon’ do, gurl?

  • Veganuary

I’ve reported on it for the past four january’s and I’m finally going to give it a go.
I’m going to try and blog and vlog my way through it – HMU on Insta @iAmber_ to follow my journe

  • Try Spotify

I hate Spotify. I don’t like the dark interface; I find it negative. I love Apple Music… Let’s see how it goes.

  • Be kinder

I’m already kind, but when I’m not having the best day, I don’t behave in the best ways.


I think that’s all.

I’ll also continue to go to the gym… But I hate the “new year, new me” crowd, they’re SO ANNOYING



The master of my own destiny or personal hell?

The master of my own destiny or personal hell?

Recently, I began my masters degree in Digital Media Practice – Marketing, Advertising and Branding Design, after being almost certain of the fact that I would not be in any form of education at the age of 23, but here I am!

I undertook this course because I was called when I was in the gym in late July by a poor soul from the UoW, who told me it’s not too late,

And so, I hopped off the bike and I applied for my MA!

I was at the point where I wasn’t getting any of the jobs I wanted, and I knew I couldn’t work in a leisure centre for another moment due to the fact that it would drive me insane, and perhaps a MA would be my key to the city.

Once I applied, I was then offered a job as a marketing co-ordinator which co-insides with the later elements / modules of this course, but at the moment it’s super designy and techy, which i was not expecting at all.

Today we looked at Dreamweaver… Building a website.

Honestly, I left the room first because my brain was FRIED.

If you asked me this time last week if I would be looking at building a website I would have laughed.



More to follow…

Why are GP receptionists the most unhelpful, miserable cows to walk the planet?

Why are GP receptionists the most unhelpful, miserable cows to walk the planet?



After visiting the doctors as a temporary resident one too many times, I finally decided to register (previously they had told me I couldn’t register because they were updating their system… Okay petals)… Anyhow.


Tonight, I called and said “Hi, I want to register”.

They said “Sure, come along with a form of ID”


Off I went, on foot, with my driving licence in hand, thinking it would be straight forward, and when I got there I was told that “Sorry, this is not an acceptable form of ID”








MH (Mega Hottie = me)
D (Devil)

MH “OH, but you said a form of ID, if this isn’t a form of ID, then what is?”
D “A bill, or a bank statement”


I mean, I’d hate to sound like a smart arse but surely they could specify that over the phone, or do they get a thrill of being rude and wasting peoples time???


I then proceeded to ask for the registration forms so I could take them home and fill them out….

D: “We do not give them out.”




I wonder how many people there are out there who are sick as anything, mentally, physically or terminally but can’t do anything about it because the likes of miserable, rude and stupid receptionists in GP surgeries?

Imagine if someone was in a low place, desperate for help, and when they go to the doctors to seek it, they’re turned away before they can even be seen because of the ‘frontline’ of the NHS?

I’m not too sure if I treated customers the same way the receptionist treated me I’d still have a job, so why do they get to keep their job?
Daily, they deal with people who are sick and sensitive, yet they’re the rudest, most inconsiderate people I have ever had to speak with.

In fact, when faced with attitudes like that I’d rather lay at home and die quietly than have to bother wasting my breath asking to register, let alone trying to get an appointment – And I’m sure other people feel the same way too.

Everyone gives GP’s a hard time, but is it really their fault? No,

It’s the receptionists, they’re evil Demogorons that have been released from their underworld crypt to ruin peoples days and lives one snare, sassy statement and phone call at a time.

Whilst I was in the surgery, I managed to pick up a questionnaire, of which I’ll be sure to include an honest opinion of those rudegalz.


It’s Easter sunday, but I can still complain.

It’s Easter sunday, but I can still complain.

It’s raining, it’s cold and it’s grey outside… If my life was a movie or a novel the pathetic fallacy is setting me up for a tragedy or a horror movie… I can’t really say at the moment, but today is okay thus far.

Today it is essential that I write the main body of my essay.

I have not been purposefully putting it off, it’s just that everytime I even think of doing it, let alone sitting down and actually doing it, I begin to get the most excruciating pain in the left side of my head, it honestly feels like someone’s inside my head with a poker poking my brain and pushing my eye.

I honestly think writing the essay would be more fun than the pain I get when I attempt to write it.

It’s crazy…

Anyhow… I was planning on going to the gym and being social this evening by seeing my friends, but due to the poor weather and impending headache I doubt the possibility of either of those things.


I know it’s Easter Sunday, but I must have a moan put it out there, I really really hate when people slurp, scrape their plates, lick their fingers and their cutlery at the table.

It’s vile, it’s impolite, and plain disgusting.

Like, are you some kind of animal?

Have you no manners?

Do your parents condone that kind of behaviour?

I feel it’s mandatory for table manners to be taught to people before they’re allowed to dine in public or the presence of other humans.