April snow: ain't nobody got time for that

Spring apparently is non existent in the UK right now.
It snowed last Wednesday.
What the heck. It's fearing April!!

My belief is snow shouldn't last past February.
Well okay Colorado people, past the second week of March.
Because snow is not fun when you are trying to pull of your new spring look of bright denim and a very thin sweater.

This is ridiculous.
I am incredibly sick of my jackets.
Don't get me wrong they are freaking adorable but I have been wearing them since November. IT IS TIME FOR A CHANGE just like Obama said in the 2008 campaign except concerning this horrible weather.

For those of you on Facebook I promise I am wearing cute clothes under all of those layers. Cute enough to where if prince Harry ever rode the subway I could spastically take off 3 layers to revel my cute outfit. It would go like this:
Me: "Omg Prince Harry"
*gracefully (hahaha no) revels cute outfit
 Prince Harry: "who is the graceful girl and how did she put together that wonderful outfit? I must know!" "Fashionable girl would you go out with me?!"
Me: "I mean I guess if I have too..." *faints

Hipster central, where I live, does have people running around in cute things.
But they are crazy.
Why?
Most of their outfits involve tights. I'm guessing half of the population was raise in Russian because there is no way in satan's home base (my grandmother apparently has started reading this?!) I am wearing tights. I can't feel my legs in jeans, let alone tights. Good for you brave souls.
I am not going out in 30 degree weather wearing tights, a dress, and a coat.
6 more layers please.

Okay so. Here are the reasons this weather is ruining my style:

1.It is hard to not look like a polar bear in 12 layers. Sometimes I catch myself looking like one of those small children in their over sized puffy coats. You know when they walk like penguins.
2.Spring? What is this spring?! Shorts?? HAHAH. Not happening. Cute one layer sweaters?? Yeah right. All of these "spring is finally here!" Adds are making me extremely depressed. I just want to wear my mint, coral, and navy combination things but I can't. Because why? We are living I an eternal winter.
3.Complete shock. I took a trip to Barcelona where it was warm and I was happy and free and sangria. Mmmmm sangria. Then I came back to snow. Not a good shock for your sinus. Plus I have four more beach trips to different warm amazing places and I will have another huge shock.
4.When the sun does actually come out I act like a vampire. The moment the sun gets to peak through the clouds it's like "ahhhhhhh what is that?! It is blinding me!! Ahhhhhhmy eyes!"
5.Going back to the south will suck. Majorly suck. Why because I will be going from 60 degrees to 95 plus humidity. The first week I am home I won't be moving due to a heat stroke from stepping off of the plane.

In conclusion I will admit that London I love you and you have my heart but you really need to get it together and bring in spring. When even the londeners are complaining how long the snow has lasted it is time for a change.

I can't feel my face

Well.
IT IS FREAKING COLD.
Seriously.
Even the Russians here are complaining.
This whole "my face is about to freeze off" isn't a joke.

Now the real issue...
How do I look cute and fashion conscious in this type of weather??!
Problems:

1. I look like a massive grizzly bear.
MASSIVE. Having to wear 12 layers does not look cute for anyone. I literally look like a marshmallow 90% of the time here. What happens if I run into prince whatever his name is and he asks me to be his date to the derby and I try to hug him and I can't because I am the site of a small house in theses millions of coats. How awkward would our first kiss be if he. Couldn't even reach me due to all of these crazy layers. My hopes and dreams have been dashed! DASHED I tell you!

2. Ballet flats... NOPE.
I have already managed to make this mistake several times. You would think after walking out the first time and having my pinky toe almost fall off due to hypothermia I would get the hint but noooooooo. I really need harmonies to pop out of nowhere and say "what an idiot" every time I try to put them on(YEAHHHH HP REFERENCE. Haters.). Even the Brits look at me like I have crazy tattooed on my forehead when I walk out in them. Hmmm maybe I a crazy? No. N way. I mean I do twitch occasionally... And my heart races uncontrollably when I pass a store.... Nope. Nuh huh. Damn.

3. Clubbing gear should not consist of a sweater.
This has become a huge issue for me. Why? Come on. It's a club. It is one of those things wear you have to look cute. For example: mandels are a NO. I mean it. If I ever see someone wearing mandels to a club I will personally go up and rip them off of that horrible fashion destroyers feet and bun them to a crisp. Oh god mandels with socks. The horror! Efff make it stop! God, they are so ugly. MANDELS ARE THE WORST INVENTION EVER KNOWN TO MANKIND. Seriously. If I saw Ryan Gosling wearing them I would immediatly start having a panic attack. If he can't pull them off neither can anyone else. Enough said.

Okay clubbing clothes.
Yeah... Clubbing.... I mean I don't go clubbing or anything mom...
What's a club?
Like a club sandwich. FOOD. So. Hungry. Be right back...
NO. Okay. Focus.
CLUBS...

Yeah so wearing a sweater to a club is not okay either. Mostly for the purpose of it getting overheated and passing out on some random gross guy in the middle of some 18 year old infested, hormone driven, hot as balls club. It is super hard to find outfits where you are warm enough outside but cool enough inside. I have worn dresses a few times and almost had my legs free off at the beginning of the night (the end is a different story because by that point you are so hot from dancing your aching feet off you just do not give a single damn about the fact that it is snowing outside).

But wait I don't go to clubs...
Club? Club football?
Seriously guys what is this club everyone keeps talking about

4. My bed is a black hole.
Guys you cannot understand how hard it is to leave that thing in the morning. It is like I am in some kind of extremely codependent relationship here. As much as it sucks I just keep coming back. On that note I guess it could be considered an abusive relationship too because my back is KILLING me but it is just so warm. Like I am the cheese in a grilled cheese where the covers are the toast and it is just so warm in there. I JUST WANT TO FEEL WARM.

5. I look 90
Why Mevy? How could a girl as wonderful, beautiful, and fantastic as you look 90 you wonder.
I wear my fuzzy sheep bathrobe almost all of the times spend in the dorm.
It is fuzzy and has SHEEP on it.
90 year old woman status.
Do not judge. Sheep are actually very cute. With their little "baaaaas" and their little faces and their little ears AHHH! They are so cute! Wittle sheepy sheeps!

So there are a few reasons why this cold sucks.
I completely understand why everyone hardcore day drinks here.
You HAVE to for warmth... Yeah... Warmth...

Elephant Noises

So here I am sitting in my room on a friday night sick as a dog.
I'm talking spastic sneeze attack, epileptic seizer, 80 year old smoker coughing sick.
It also happens to be 9:30 on a friday night in the best nightlife city around.
Yes I am wearing sweats. That sick.
They are J.Crew... and have zippers at the bottom... but still SWEATS people!
I sound like an Elephant everytime I have to sneeze or blow my nose.

I refuse to go to bed at 9:30. REFUSE.
So lucky for you guys I am writing another blog.

Example:
I have had the lovely chance of going to a few exciting clubs and pubs.
I have also had the very unlucky chance of going to the 18 year old boys club where they all love to go shirtless. This wouldn't be a problem if they were all built like Channing Tatum , but no. One of the worst things in life to have to see is an 18 year old, most likely 16 with a fake, skinny white boy trying to dance like there is no tomorrow. BOYS. STAPH. You are not cute. Like AT ALL. I am embarrassed for you.

Story.
It is going to get good...

So here I am chilling at one of the "hottest clubs in London ( literally. I thought I was having a heat stroke in the pits of hell. Satan? Could it be you??)" when this scrawny ass kid comes up to me and asks me if he can buy me a drink.
Boy. Are you even old enough to drink?? Do you even know what a rum and coke is?? WHY DO YOU HAVE A VODKA CRANBERRY IN YOUR HAND?!
Side note: I HATE vodka cranberries.
I looked at him for about five seconds. So I really was not going to say anything but then this word vomit just comes out. I looked at him and gross just popped out. I'm sorry but he was gross. A vodka cranberry?? I mean really? Have your balls dropped yet or are they still chillen up there?!
The poor little thing, he was about half my size, looked so hurt. I really hate to think I'm that girl that turned him into a woman-hating, GTL loving, axe wearing man. I could see it in his eyes though. I did. I'm sorry little man where ever you are.

You would think after getting hit on by an "18" year old my confidence would be through the roof. WRONG. I felt like a pedophile. I thought a police officer was going to come running through the club and tackling me to the ground in handcuffs for even looking at this child. All I kept thinking about was Selena Gomez. I AM NOT SELENA. I WILL NOT DATE AN 18 YEAR OLD. Omg. I am a pedophile. Time to leave.

That was experience 1.
Experience two got a little bit more creepy.
So again me and the girls go to "the hottest club in London," a different one I might add, and try to get the night started off right.
WELL.
First of all it was crowded. I am talking Walt Dinsey World the day after summer break starts crowded. More crowded than a One Direction concert crowded.
Known fact about me: I do not do well in crowds.
Lets just say I spent the years 13-18 in most pits and at Vans Warped Tour. My mindset when it comes to crowds is push, shove, scratch, claw, ect.
Yes I realise this is violent but I wanted to be a ballerina when I was little and instead my dad put me in Tae Kwon Do. My Mulan instincts to fight are always on the lookout.

Anyways.

So here I am having a good time with my friends. Dancing my little legs off to some dubstep song. You know: wohhhmmm wohm ohhhnahhh WOMP WOMPPPPPP WOMP WOMPWOMPWOMP wohhhmmmmm song. When this sweaty freaking hand grabs my side.
HOLD UP. Ohhhh hell no bro.
So this guy comes out of nowhere are proceeds to start his version of dancing on me. Now the guys version of "dancing" is grinding their balls all over you while putting their sweaty gross hands on your stomach.
Another fact about me:
I hate being touched by people I do not know. I will not give hugs to anyone I have just met or even stand super close to anyone. I have my own person bubble and I like to keep it that way. MY BUBBLE. hahahaha Finding Nemo hahahah Get it? teheh.
Dammit cold. You are making me crazy...

Okay so yeah. Creeper ( who doesn't have a shirt on, or abs) is trying to grind all over my poor innocent backside + me without my bubble of comfort and hate for things sweaty = horrible combination.
So what did I do?
I turned around and said some very rude words starting with " if you EVER come near me again I will take your face and shove it so far up your...." and ending with " you have the body of a skinny 10 year old girl and the face like a gargoyle."
Needless to say it was harsh.

Moral of these two stories:
I really need to stop going to the "hottest club in London."
Pubs are really nice.
My insults are getting wayyyyyyyy better.
I will always hate cranberry and vodka
18 year old boys creep me out.
Kabobs, yes I know I've mentioned them, are Heaven sent.
Pregame. DO NOT buy drinks at the club. They barely have alcohol and are expensive.
The nightbus isn't as cool as it is in Harry Potter.
Showers were one of the best inventions. Plus I have now perfected the dance move "the shower"
People do not appreciate "the fish (dance move)" as much as they do back home.

Example:
http://imgur.com/gallery/dJtcF

" You sound like your'e from London!"

Well I made it.

FREEEEEEEE AT LAST!

Not really, but really.

I have already learned so much from being in London!

1.I crave waffles everyday. Why? Because there is a freaking waffle place on every freaking corner of this city. It is like Starbucks in New York City. Except way worse. I even woke up last night having the most awkward craving for one. So far I have been able to just walk away but soon the craving will overtake and I will go into this mad sugar crazed rush and storm the waffle cart. Mmmmm waffles... Sweet buttery goodness with your delicious crust outside and soft warm inside. With your syrupy squares that holds that sweet corn syrup so perfectly. OMG. What is this addiction?! WAFFLES. No. Nonononono. No more.

2. I am amazing with the tube. Not to brag or anything but who hasn't been lost yet, well except that one time after that ridiculous bar. I mean bar? What bar? Psh I don't go to bars..., but I have not been lost yet *cough cough. 

3. The fashion here is immaculate. I am living in hipster central which means I get to see the coolest, and weirdest, outfits in the world. But I really would like to tell the hipsters those boots their wearing well EVERYONE HAS THOSE. So HAH! Suck it hipsters!! I do get to wear my glasses though and not get a questioning stare. It is really nice not being asked if they are real. For those of you that do ask: Yes they are freaking real. Why in the mother of pearl would I have these annoying glasses that keep slipping off of my nose if they were not freaking real?! What sense does that make?! Sorry I am not an attention seeking 13 year old girl. But back to fashion. Dude it is amazing. I will say though that no one wears bright colours and I just happen to pride myself on trying to wear every colour of the rainbow everyday so as you can imagine I stand out a bit. I think the people of London are always blinded by me since they only wear the darker colours. I had one strange individual run into a post because he was staring at my jacket for too long. I am really hoping this trick will work for Prince Harry so he will be so blinded by my colours that he will not even notice us getting engaged...

4. I am broke. Of course I mean I kind of knew that... Sort of.... but I am one step away from the ramen noodle diet. The only reason it hasn't happened yet is because 1. Gross. and 2. How am I supposed to still fit into my J.Crew clothes if I go on a strict ramen diet?! That would cause me to buy a completely new wardrobe. Hmmm maybe I will try the ramen diet after all...

5.Cars DO NOT stop. I have seen stupid people almost run over on a regular basis. For example "Hey ya'll look at that big clock thingy over there. What's that crap called? Never mind I don't care. 'MURICA. Now where are those freedom fries and my power wheelie. OH SNAP a bus!" Yeah. It has happened.

6. I am embarrassed by Americans. Sad right? I have been asked multiple times if I eat McDonalds every day and live like Honey Boo Boo. WTF MATE. I then look at them and ask if it looks like I have five chins and a pet pig (side note: my cousin actually had a pet pig and it was adorable. So no offence  to pigs. I would love to have a nanopig. I mean oh my god have you seen those things?! They are the cutest thing in the world! Just think of it's little face and cute little feet! ahhhhhhh so cute! Damn. I really need to stop getting distracted. NANOPIG. 

7. Italian men are creepy. Enough said. 

8.Kabobs are almost as good as waffles. Plus they have lettuce in them so it is healthy right?

9. I have a shopping problem. Old news. 

10.STICK IT TO THE MAN. YEAH PUNK ROCK. YEAHHHHH. CHECK ITTTTT.

Well so far so good here. I will try to update more. Toodles for now. Hehehehe toodles. heheh. 

I hate you email app.

DAMMIT J.CREW
It is like they know when I am in my desperate hour of need.
When my willpower has hit a low point.
WHY?!?!

I hate you exam week.
I hate you credit card bill
And I HATE you J.Crew emails.

Okay so I have been eyeing this necklace for a few months now. Seriously when I say eyeing it I really mean stalking the absolute mess out of it to see when it goes on sale. So it finally, after three long months of waiting, went on sale. Did I buy it? NOPE. I was so freaking proud. Like more proud than a freshman high school student not falling down the stairs their first day. I had some awesome willpower going and I knew it. The daily emails kept taunting me "spend 150 and get 25% off" or "spend $250 and get 30% off!" I knew my limits and I stuck to them.

So what happened? Where did my official demise begin?
Well let me tell you it was not pretty. That is for sure.

So here I am minding my own freaking business then all of the sudden my phone makes that awful buzzing noise telling me I have yet another annoying email.
"BUZZZZzZzzzZZZ"
Okay so cool more match.com emails. Whatever. Delete. Delete. Del...
STOP.
"A single near you would like to get to know you"
HAHAH. Creepers.
delete. delete. delete delete delete delete.
Crappity crap, crap crap.
What was that J.Crew?
30% off??
Free shipping??
NO "YOU MUST SPEND THIS TO GET THIS PERCENT OFF?!?!?!
Oh my god Becky.
Heaven.

Well. There went my willpower and my next meal. Ramen sounds good for the next few days?

How could they do this to me? They KNEW my exams were this week. They knew my stress level it at an all time high. They know my bank account is dead. And they know my ex just found another girl before I did ( yes this makes me mad because I was supposed to be the one who found someone first!). Why would they hit me at my lowest point?! What is this madness.

Yes I bought the necklace.
....And a sweater (because it is cold in London. Duh.)
.................and some shoes..........(again. super cold. like brrrrrrr.)

I hate you, you stupid email application on my phone. You have been my ultimate demise. I HATE YOU.

Yoga Pants

So here is the deal.
I pride myself on being a somewhat fashionable person
Hopefully someone would tell me if it looked like my outfit got hit with the ugly stick.
And I always at least try to look presentable, in case I run into Ryan Gosling (swooooooon).
But during finals week all bets are OFF.

For example.
This morning I had to turn in a final at 8 AM. 8 am. I mean really who in the world gets up that early?! Plus I live at least 30 minutes away from campus which means I had to be up at the crack of dawn. UGH.
So here is what happens:
1. I roll out of bed. Literally do a barrel roll.
2. Drag myself to the bathroom to get ready while rubbing the sleep out of my eyes
    which turned out to be mascara and let me tell you that stuff freaking hurts like bee sting when it gets into        your eyes.
3. Throw on a bra and my yoga pants.
4. attempt to put on some makeup even though my eyes are still on fire.
5. Give up on makeup.
6. Throw up my hair into this pretty rough messy bun thing.
7. Run out the door because I am late and hop in my car to drive thirty minutes to turn a project for five minutes just to turn around and come back home. MOST POINTLESS DRIVE EVER.
8. Come home and go back to sleep.

Yeah so I looked like a hobo that really likes Victoria's Secret this morning.
Why VS? Because their yoga pants are AMAZING. That is why.

My brain is literally being fried and so is my fashion. Finals week is not for the faint of heart.
Literally.
The only time you will ever see me "bumming" it is when it is either finals week or I just got done teaching a Pilates class (yes I used to teach) but even with pilates at least my pants coordinate with my sports bra. During finals all color combos are on.

SO.
In case you were wondering why I have not posted in a while, mom, it is because it is finals week. AHHASDFAKLSDFLKASD.  That is my brain. Screaming in pain. I will give you an update in the end of just how many brain cells got fried thanks to my accounting exam.

This picture explains my studying habits:

New Years Dilemma

So I have a major problem.
And I mean major.
More major than "The Great Gatsby" movie getting pushed back another year.
We are talking MAJOR.

I do not have a New Year's Eve outfit.
See. Major issue.

So due to some recent events in my sucky love life it is CLEAR I am in need of a kick ass new year's dress. I mean I am talking a glittered crazed out hot as sin dress in a perfect hue and shade of some amazing color.
You would think with all of the millions of dresses out there it really would not be that hard to find the right one. WRONG. I made you a list of factors:

1. Price. This is problem number one because when you fall in love with a beautiful hip hugging, LBD number it is hard to walk away. It is like Louboutin shoes. They are probably the most perfect pair you have ever seen in your life but when you flip them over and see their $2500 price tag ON SALE you just have to walk away (for those of you who do not know what this is come out from under your stupid rock and google it.) But even for those of us that are recovered shopoholics it is still an extremely hard gesture.

2. Length, yes this should be a factor. It is incredibly hard finding a dress between the lengths of Amish and is longer than your underwear. you do not want to be asked where someone can find the nearest retirement home on new years. That being said you also do not want a prostitute telling me to put some clothes on. Now that is when you know you have some self esteem issues (see Ugly Christmas Sweater blog for more information).

3. Sparkles. If your dress puts Taylor Swift's to shame, you probably have too many.

4. Cleavage ratio. Lets try and keep it classy please. It is embarrassing enough when a celebrity has a nip slip but when you do it is just plain sad. Keep it in your dress please. Pam Anderson should not be your muse on a somewhat dignified holiday.

5.  Color. Honestly just stay away from the pea greens please.

So there you have it. These five factors, along with many others, are what keep me in line with trying to buy a dress. With all of these things constantly plotting against one another the search for a dress because more of a Sparta challenge.

Sorry this post is so short and a little less witty than normal. I am too busy shamelessly searching the internet for that perfect party dress. So far? No luck. It is going to be a long night.

Damn. I forgot one major freaking factor...

6. SHAPE. of the dress of course.
What to pick? Do you want to be super trendy and go for the come back once every ten years peplum? Do you want to play it safe with the always in style but kind of boring A-Line? What about the cutout? And long sleeve or short sleeve??? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO PICK?! AHHHHHHHHHHH.
Commence Stress level through the roof.