The day I became a man

The day I became a man

For many men, the day they became men was a milestone to be celebrated.

In Judaism they have a Bar Mitzvah, in ancient Rome, new men assumed the ‘toga virilis'(Toga of Manhood’), and in my life, you just get called ‘sir’ when you wish to purchase a doll for your little friend.

My day started like any other, up at 5.45 to watch Spongebob, play with my dolls and chill out, when I decided just one doll was not enough.

I waited patiently for my mum to arrive home from work so she could chauffer me to my fave toy store, as my Cosy Coupe is no longer road worthy (I haven’t actually been able to fit in it for the past 15 years) but that’s beside the point.

When I arrived at Smyths, I perused the aisles, eyeing up all the bikes, swings and other play things until I found the aisle I was looking for – the doll aisle.

I decided I wanted a Tiny Tears, cos she has hair, and she cries, and wets herself all at the same time!

Once I had selected my doll, I proceeded to the check out…

I decided to queue behind one lady purchasing two items, which took about five minutes because the cashier decided it was an appropriate time to spend approximately 18 million years discussing her personal life over some Hot Wheels, 

So I went over to a man,  I believe he was named Greg.

I said hello, he did too.

I smiled and he said: “Would you like a bag?”

I politely declined.

“Would you like a free catalogue today, sir?”

 sir.

Sir.

SIR?!?!?!!

I am a lady, I protested, whilst still quite clearly offended that I had been called sir.
You find a man who looks like and I’ll eat my hat

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Shit,

 Well it’s a good thing I don’t actually have a hat.

First of all,

 I most certainly do not look like a man today – I was wearing make up for the first time in like 79 years, my nails were glittery and purple, and my legs were clad in tights, and semi-hidden by a skirt, so with this in mind, this rude check out man had the audacity to refer to me as ‘sir’, and then deny it, even though it was clearly audible, and my mother, of whom wasn’t even stood next to me, but near me heard it.

I didn’t even get a sorry!

The worst part about being called ‘sir’ is that just two short hours before, I had waxed my moustache .

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So, the likelihood of me visiting that particular toy store again is slim to none, maybe the day I become a real life sir I will, but for the time being, I think I’ll continue to be a Toys R Us Kid…

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It’s upgrade time

It’s upgrade time

It’s upgrade time.

Every 24 months most of us upgrade our phones to the newer, bigger and bigger model, and that is what I shall do, except my upgrade is a little smaller than the current model I have.

So

I’ve just finished my second year at Canterbury Christ church university.

I won’t lie, it was kinda challenging, not academically, just morally and creatively, which is hard to admit,coming from someone who is insanely creative – I’m sure you’ve seen what I’ve done with eggs, butter and sugar.

 

My time in Canterbury has come to a premature end because of a wise decision I felt I had to make.

My first year of uni was fab, but the second year was literal torture.

I wasn’t happy at all in my house for the first term, if I wasn’t home in Bournemouth for the weekend, I’d be wishing I was at home, or facetiming my friends and family from the discomfort of my needlessly freezing cold room in the student house I shared (I, a bill payer, wasn’t allowed the central heating on) #guestinmyownhome.

A few short weeks after my 21st birthday I decided I couldn’t actually spend another year in a city I dislike, with people who aren’t so great either therefore, I began my research and found that The University of Winchester offer the same (better) course that I am doing and I began to create my application in secrecy, only confiding in my family and about 4 friends from home because there’s nothing more shameful than being rejected by a university, but thankfully, they accepted me for an interview and I was Amber, and by being Amber I got my unconditional offer to re-do my second year of university.

Undeniably some would say “haha you have to do another year of university”, but that doesn’t phase me – I’m already a year behind from changing sixth form, so what’s another year?
I see it as another year to do better, another year to make more contacts, and another year to decide what journalistic journey I want to travel on.

The odd thing is, I still actually haven’t told any of the people I’m living with 1) that I’m leaving today and should be arriving within the next hour or so

And 2) I won’t be returning to the area – I’m not bothered by either.

 

Not even sorry.

I’ll miss a select few, such as,  Shaniki, BP, Boil & Miranda, #shoutout, and Lily and I’m sure I’ll keep in contact with these cool kids because they’re so nice and kind – they’re real people, you feels me?

It’s okay Amber, I feel you.

My message I’d like to give to some people in Canterbury is – Don’t be banker, even if you don’t like someone, just be the grown up you claim to be, because if you act like a childish cnut, it will only emphasise and show that you are an actual cnut.
All of your actions have consequences and you have no idea of how it’s going to impact someone and their life.
It’s a good thing I’m Amber, because if I wasn’t, God knows what would have happened…

 

You’ll be pleased to know I’ll be blogging about my adventures and my very very wild lifestyle, just not from the grim county of Kent.

 

I GOT TWO WORDS FOR YOU

LOVELL OUT *DROPS MIC*

It’s deadline day. May the odds be ever in your favour.

It’s deadline day. May the odds be ever in your favour.

 

 

I write this to you, even though I should not be writing to you, my audience.

It’s deadline day today and everything is finished, I just have to assemble my screenshots and links and pop some champagne, but other than that, I’m done.

I’m re-reading the brief to make sure I’ve included everything, when I saw this…

“At least THREE tweets, preferably more per story” 

I follow several million news outlets on Twitter, and the same story isn’t ever tweeted more than once… Why?
Because the followers would be annoyed at the constant regurgitation of a story… It will block timelines, ruin lives, and hurt eyes, and I am not about to do that.

What I am about to do is generate some more content, because everyone loves my content, my mum said.

 

argh

IT’S TUESDAY. TOMORROW IS DEADLINE DAY.

IT’S TUESDAY. TOMORROW IS DEADLINE DAY.

IT’S 5AM.

I AM AWAKE

I AM CLEAN.

I AM GOING TO THE GYM.

 

 

7AM.

I WENT TO THE GYM.

IT WAS HOT.(LIKE ME)

AND SWEATY (LIKE EVERYONE WHO GOES TO THE GYM) AND I’M NOW TIRED, BUT NO, I MUST WORK, WORK ON MY WEBSITE.

 

12PM

“DO YOU WANT TO GO OUT FOR LUNCH?”

ARE YOU SOME KIND OF CRAZY? OF COURSE I WANT TO GO OUT FOR LUNCH.

I LIVE AND BREATHE FOR MY NEXT MEAL, NEXT TIME DON’T ASK ME THAT SILLY QUESTION, INSTEAD, JUST CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE OUTSIDE MY HOUSE AND TELL ME IT’S TIME TO GO, AND I’LL BE HERE, SAT , WAITING WITH MY COAT AND SHOES IN HAND.

 

17.00PM

I’M HOME.

I HAD LUNCH.

I WENT SHOPPING WITH MY MUM.

SHE BOUGHT ME MATCHING GYM ATTIRE FROM GAP.

I LIKE IT.

I LIKE HER.

SHE IS KIND.

I LIKE KIND PEOPLE.

 

19.25PM

“AMBER DO YOU WANT TO GO WAITROSE?”

WENDY, YOU KNOW I DO.

WENDY, YOU KNOW I LIVE FOR MY FREE LATTE AND MY CHOCOLATE BERLINER AT NIGHTTIME, DON’T ASK ME THESE SILLY QUESTIONS, JUST COME TO MY ROOM AND TELL ME WE’RE GOING AND WE’LL GO.

21.30PM

I’M MAKING ALL THESE DOCUMENTS,

I’M PUTTING ALL MY SCREEN SHOTS TOGETHER AND THEN I GET TO THE SUDDEN REALISATION I GOTS TO MAKE A CRITICAL ANALYSIS TOO.

WHY?!

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS OTHER THAN TO RUIN MY LIFE, INCREASE MY STRESS AND GIVE ME A PREMATURE HEART ATTACK?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!???!?!?!!??!?!?!??!?!?

“WHY DID YOU CREATE THE PIECES YOU DID?”
“BECAUSE YOUR BRIEF TOLD ME TO”
“WHAT PUBLICATION ARE THEY FOR?”
“MY WEBSITE”
“WHAT STYLE ARE THEY WRITTEN IN?”
“MY STYLE MO’FO!”

 

I’M TIRED.

I’M DONE.

OKAY, I’M NOT REALLY DONE, STILL PRETTY FUMING ABOUT THE CRITICAL ANALYSIS… I CAN SIT HERE AND CRITICALLY ANALYSE MY WORK ALL DAY LONG, BUT HAVING TO WRITE ABOUT IT IS TEDIOUS – CAN I NOT JUST SEND TRANSCRIPTS OF MY FACEBOOK CHATS WHEREIN I MOAN ABOUT MY WORK?

 

ARGH I JUST WANT TO BE A SPONGE WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA AND FLIP BURGERS ALL DAY LONG AND BE FRIENDS WITH A FAT, TOPLESS STARFISH.

 

 

AND HAVE A PET SNAIL CALLED GARY.

TOUCH ME FOR MORE FUN

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, are you the unfairest of them all?

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, are you the unfairest of them all?

The wrong message is being forced upon children who dare to look in the mirrors at high-street chain clothing stores.

 

We all desire to be slim and tall, but should this be forced upon children when innocently shopping for clothes?

 

I will let you decide.

 

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what happens when the beholder stands at just three feet tall, and only possesses a year of life for each foot she has?

 

She gets confused.

 

Ava, like any other little girl is besotted with a very famous Japanese cartoon kitty, and when she saw a top adorned with Hello Kitty’s face, she knew she had to have it, urging us to go into a very well known high-street store.

 

We picked out the t-shirt in her size, and I thought she would appreciate some hair clips with the kitty on too, so she looks extra cute, which is when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

 

Ava, like any other human looks at herself when she sees a mirror, but remained silent on the matter until we returned home.

 

Upon arriving home from the shopping excursion, Ava just could not wait to put on her new t-shirt and Hello Kitty clips – Who could blame her? One of the most exciting parts about shopping is putting on your new clothes when you get home!

 

Several moments later, Ava is wearing her new top, and looking in the mirror when she remarks ‘why I not tall like I was at the shops? And my belly look big again?’

 

 

 

From this photo, you can tell that Ava is beautiful, and of a normal weight and height for her age, but she’s abnormally hilarious and observant which made me question what she was saying.

 

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Several years ago, before Ava’s arrival on earth I noticed the same thing as she… Slimming mirrors.

 

Whilst some, like myself, may not find fault with slimming mirrors in general, it is easy to find fault in them being in the children’s section of clothing stores due to the mixed messages it can send to them.

Nicky Hutchinson, author of body image publications such as ‘Body Image in the Primary School’ and ‘Promoting Positive Behaviour in Young Children‘ commented on the matter of slimming mirrors in the child’s section of clothing stores.

“It’s terrible that these mirrors are placed in the children’s section, we know that children begin dieting behavior whilst still at primary school and studies show they already prefer slimmer figures when given a selection of pictures to choose from.”

Nicky, also a body image and behavior consultant for ‘Not Just Behavior’ a Bristol based consultation company, commented further, “mirrors such as these just encourage young people to pursue the thin ideal and to become self critical and feel that the way they look as they are is somehow not good enough .”
“We also know that in research children always prefer the slimmer figures and so these mirrors may be a calculated way to encourage young people to make purchases.” – Nicky Hutchinson.

 

Nicky is not the only one to remark about the dangers slimming mirrors present to young people.

 

Maggie Clarke, a senior school nurse in Leicester said “I think it’s sad that large companies who have a predominantly young clientele subliminally  promote the belief that to look good you have to be thin and tall when they could really promote the view that we are all different shapes and sizes and being healthy physically and emotionally should be our goal.”

 

Tamzin Bouzad, an 11-year-old schoolgirl loves nothing more than doing sports, and going shopping with her friends in her spare time, she too noticed that the mirrors in a certain store give off a certain effect.

“I like to go shopping on the weekend with my friends, and I’m quite short. When Amber told me about the mirrors, I went back to the shop and I noticed I was taller. It felt strange.”

After contacting the chain for further comment, they categorically denied they had mirrors of such in their stores, yet said if they are giving such an effect it would be due to the mirrors being ‘incorrectly installed when hung on the wall’.

 

What do you think about slimming mirrors?

Should they just be in the adult section of the stores, or not at all?

 

 

THURSDAYS WITH AMBER, FEATURING CRUMPDATES

THURSDAYS WITH AMBER, FEATURING CRUMPDATES

HELLO MY WILD CHILDREN OF THE INTERNET FOREST, IT’S ME, YOUR HOST, AMBER, COMING AT YOU LIVE FROM CANTERBURY, THE HOME OF THE NOTHING TO DO!!!

Today is the last day of term – I’m very excited because that means I get to go home.

I like home.
Home is good.
Home is clean.
Home is fun.

Home is where my best friends are, yeah, they wipe their faces on the shoulders of their tops, eat with their hands and play with toys all day, errday, because that’s the kind of people I chose as my friends, and I like it.

I should also mention that I’m referring to a two-year-old and a four-year-old…

 

ANYWAYS…

SO.
I’m very excited to go home today, so excited that I made a video for you all.

TTYL BBYZ

 

13.57PM

Trying to hoax my Crump into saying Spain – it’s so difficult!

She looks totes cute tho.

14.00PM
Doreen said Spain, twice, because I told her I had closed my laptop… Does she not know that I,  a tech wizard can update my blog from my phone?
Got you this time, Doreen.

 

15.30PM

So, law.

I got 14/20 on the news quiz, but he didn’t even ask for peoples scores this week which was rather depressing.

17.00PM

Went home, to utilise the lavatorial facilities when the ultimate housemate gifted me with orange flavoured jelly beans in the shape of a carrot, a bunny balloon and a lil’ net of chocolate eggs for Easter, because I’m going home tonight!

How cute is she?! Thanks Harriet, you da real MVP.

 

 

18.00PM

I’ve found myself back at the SU, this time for hungry time.
I couldn’t decide what to have, because I’ve been steering clear of all things greasy and processed… SO I had a cheese bacon burger with fries and a side of “I’m so sorry I’m doing this to you, body, I am so,so sorry”, and I washed it down with a fruity cider…

(Sorry Amber)

 

19.30PM
I’m back home again, I suppose I should begin packing to go home, but I really can’t be bothered……………

 

21.09PM

I’m nearly done packing, I’m going to make my room kind of tidy, because our landlord likes to breech the tenancy agreement and enter the property without knocking, or even calling with 24/48hours notice like the agreement states… So, I wouldn’t be surprised if they come round when people have gone home for Easter for a quick snoop, so landlord, if you’re reading this, that’s why I’ve got a rubber rat hanging out from underneath the cabinet beside my bed, you snoops.

 

22.53PM
I’m so tired, but my ride home doesn’t arrive for another hour, so I’m just laying on my bed, eating, relaxing… having a good time..