I’ve been living in London for almost two months now; I’m settling in to a new pace of life, dealing with this tropical heat and deciding how I feel about selling my underwear online. I don’t usually deal with change very well, but I had not been in the city for a mere moment before people were recommending that I go to Franco Manca because I’d love it and Thomas omg you’ll love it too, Thomas honestly you will just LOVE IT.
Guy’s it’s just really good, seriously just go and check it out and let us know what you think.
We did go, and if I’m honest it was a bit shit. The base was burnt a little and the mushrooms on my pizza weren’t really cooked. I mean it was OK but it didn’t exactly change my world.
So, next time someone told us to go, I just told them that it’s not really for us and they acted like I had shot them in the face. This kept happening and on Thomas’ birthday we were going for dinner with his parents and they suggested this ‘little place’ they found called FRANCO MANCA. Thomas say’s that he isn’t really a fan and his dad said that isn’t a problem he knows somewhere else we can go. After a lovely walk down the canal and through a cute little market he tells us that we’ve arrived. We look up and see the drunken comic sans lettering, ‘FRANCO MANCA’. “I promise you, it really is lovely here.” It was at most ok.
On the way home, after saying goodbye to Thomas’ parents, I couldn’t stop wondering what everyone was seeing in this mildly ok pizzeria. Had everyone gone insane? Is the whole of London ordering an extra topping of cocaine on their pizza for between £0.50 – £1.75?
Then it hit me. Franco Manca is a motherfuckin’ cult. They don’t even try to hide it, all of the obvious signs for a cult are just out there in the open and I don’t even know how I’m the only one to see it.
This view was free and therefore I hate it.
Since moving to London, becoming a student again and nannying part time, I have zero interest in consumerism, capitalism and lime scaley water. (Must note that I spent a lot of money on making slime this week, however that is an anomaly and overall I am shunning consumerism).
I have little to no money these days, which is fine because I plan on selling my knickers on ebay so I don’t think I’ll be in this situation for too long, but it has made me want to shit in everyone’s pumpkin spiced lattes. I’m glad all this change hasn’t made me a reasonable person.
I just google image searched Mayim Bialik
The internet is full of a lot of shit right now and I keep thinking about it. There have been a million thoughts on what HW has done and tbh I don’t know how to even articulate my thoughts of that shit show, but Mayim Bialik’s NYT piece has been irritating me so here are some roughly formed thoughts on why she wrote total rubbish.
Mayim Bialik, who is obviously hideous and not like other girls, wrote a piece for the New York Times on Harvey Weinstein’s sexual assault and rape allegations this weekend and she sounded a lot like me aged sixteen. I used to tell boys that I couldn’t physically fart and put maybeline dream matte mouse on my lips to get the natural look. I was chatting strange shit when I was 16 and Mayim was writing some strange shit when she wrote that piece.
According to Mayim people openly calling themselves feminists don’t get assaulted. This is why Roxanne Gay and Lena Dunham can’t go on twitter for words of encouragement and kindness all day. Friends of mine don’t shave their armpits and this has meant that all men either leave them alone completely or just straight up ask them about their academic achievements. Please, don’t be so fucking stupid.
Apparently, sexual assault is about sex and in Hollywood it only happens to ‘leading ladies.’ Even if Mayim had a mind blank and forgot that BME women are underrepresented in Hollywood and overrepresented in sexual assault statistics, literally just the most basic google of sexual assault tells you that it’s about power and not sex. It’s why white plantation owners raped black women they kept as slaves, why abusive husbands rape their wives and why Harvey Weinstein assaulted and raped women in an industry that he had huge power in.
I’m so tired of hearing people tell sexual assault victims and survivors, ‘what did you expect?’ Obviously they expected a fucking business meeting, audition or interview; should they have expected something else? Maybe not if they wore they big jumper I guess. It’s already fucking exhausting living in the world where sexual assault is tolerated, can we please just not shit on those brave enough to come forward because they’re paving the way for others in the future who are seeking justice.
Ultimately, Harvey Weinstein and those who covered up his crimes are the ones who need to go and die, but Mayim please be the feminist you claim to be and pretend these women did anything to invite crimes against them. Also The Big Bang Theory isn’t funny, just sayin’.
0.5% alc (low alcohol)
I have depression lalalalalaaaa, you can read a million things online where I have given you the deep dive on my mental health. This post isn’t about my brain but my brain is a starting point. I stopped drinking (with a handful of exceptions) in the new year because alcohol was fucking with my meds and the next day I would be in the darkest pit of depression again that it was getting to be dangerous/ it was negating the efforts I was taking to recover. Fast forward six months and I’m in Budapest with my galz, they’re drinking AND ALL I WANT IS SWEET SWEET BEER ON MY LIPS.
Since then, LET. ME. TELL. YOU. I .HAVE. BEEN. ON. A. J-OOOOUUU-R-N-E-Y. I am now hunting down the best non alc/low alc drinks so that my life can be complete and I can stop panicking in bars and ordering a coke that I don’t want.
P.s. Shout out to Emilie who told me to review my non alc drinks – I can only assume ideas like this are why she’s at Oxford.
This weeks beer is Sainsbury’s Low Alcohol Czech Pilsner Larger. The label describes it as,”light bodied with bitter hop notes and a fresh finish.” Obviously, I have no idea what that means but let me tell you how it tasted to me.
That fresh chick on the right is who was liking all of these pages….
Now that I’m doing a part time MA, I have SO MUCH time to indulge in internet deep dives. The other day I spent about 2 hours researching how much money women are making selling their underwear online, so I’m pretty content with how my life is going now that I’m in London. Aside from my new business interests, I’ve been distracted by looking at all the weird pages I like on FB from so long ago and trying to remember what I was thinking at the time. Most of them were clearly *subtle* hints at boys I fancied from school, or a way to show people just how hilarious I am.
Here is a comprehensive list of some of the things I liked back in the day, that I made a note of until I couldn’t be arsed any more. 2017 comments in italics.
- Scratching Your B.U.M in Public 😉 Who the fuck was I trying to impress with this pile of shit page? Pun intended.
- Dogs wearing shoes. This is legit tbh. I’m glad I was somewhat reasonable when I was 16 because I would still put this in my top 10 of things that I enjoy about being alive.
- There is nothing sexier than good grammar. This kind of shit is why I used the morning after pill as legitimate contraception for so long… This page just screams, “I know nothing about sex, what is sexy or reasonable social skills.”
- Tom Pellereau – The Apprentice. Who? I was so ride and die for the people I wanted to win The Apprentice back in the day, like more ride and die than I am even for Tommo now. I don’t think I have access to such extreme adoration anymore.
- Having Harry Potter bed spread because thats where the magic happens. I definitely liked this when I was about 15 and I definitely didn’t loose my virginity until I was 17 and drunk at a party.
- Let’s eat Grandpa. Let’s eat, Grandpa. Punctuation can save someone’s life. Again with the grammar, Rosy can you even spell? Omg is this a way of exercising self hate because I actually do have really terrible spelling and grammar.
I’ve had so many messages asking to run through my beauty tips and all I can think is, but its only me Rosy, a normal girl from Manchester… My own beauty and other people’s obsession with it continuously humble me; I really am the luckiest girl in the world. Of course I want to help anyone look more beautiful so I’ll give you a quick run through of how I maintain being a style icon and how you can do the same.
- I’m sometimes left alone for half an hour.
I’m trying to make more responsible decisions that don’t include hamsters or tattoos and so I thought ooo I want to get creative on my face. I’ve been seeing lots of these wavy brows and lips on the Internet and I thought – THIS IS EVERYTHING MY BEAUTY ROUTINE HAS EVER NEEDED AND IT DOESN’T LOOK PERMINANT OR LIKE IT WOULD ENDAGER AN ANIMALS LIFE. (lol remember when I bought 3 hamsters in 6 months).
I’ve tried to start this post so many times and I don’t know how to be subtle/ slowly build suspense/ not talk about being abandoned by my father in the first weeks of life so STRAP IN… My dad left when I was a baby and since then it has just been my mum, my sisters and moi. At uni I always lived with gals and we went through four years having made no male friends. Now, 23 and at the peak of my fertility I am living with two guys. One of them is Thomas and he’s my boyfriend (sometimes I call him my partner because that’s grown up) from tinder and Lewis is his bestie from when they were babies. It’s pretty fucking cute. Living with them is a 200% increase in the amount of men I’ve lived with.*
Thomas has lived in this flat for two months before I moved in and so I should probably describe the before situation of this room. This will take two minutes because it was EMPTY. Honestly there was nothing on the walls, nothing on the surfaces, and nothing on the bedside table… Obviously there are 5 guitars and a ukulele in here, but there wasn’t even a bin so as far as I’m concerned this was a desolate room in need of my creative flair and talent.
Hey! I’ve just moved to Landan, penniless, medicated and happy, so I must document every day of my life to prove to my mum and the world that I am coping. If you’re not reading Refinary29s Money Diaries then you must quit this crap and head straight there because I use it as my financial advisor. This one is life.
I’m not including travel or rent because I don’t want you to realize how much I lean on my mother…
I’m not saying anything ground breaking to note that I have seen some feminists, learning and growing just like me, be dragged over hot coals for misguided things that they have said. Sometimes a white cis woman has gone onto a comment section guns blazing asking if a black woman can explain to her why it is cultural appropriation if she wears braids in her blonde hair or another woman, Zadie Smith, has said that make up is a waste of time and not something women should be spending their time on. These two examples are different, but the women saying them can sometimes be treated the same, denounced as sexist or racist and told to be quiet. It’s important to call out toxic or problematic* behavior, but sometimes it isn’t done in the kindest of ways.
Tbh public shaming in feminism can be so harsh that I would 100% spend a whole week with someone who describes themselves as ‘35 years young and a graduate of the school of life’ than be called out by a group of feminists that I respect. So, there are certain topics that I listen to others more than I offer my own opinion and then there are some things that I avoid talking about all together. I do not want to be dragged over those coals!