A Winter's Tale

I am currently a basic b*tch. And I'm not even sorry about it. The minute autumn is in sight I turn into a pumpkin-spice latté drinking, cinnamon-Yankee-candle smelling, scarf lover who can't help but tweet/instagram/pinterest my love of picturesque woodland walks.

I exaggerate of course (I'm more of a full-fat caramel girl myself) but my point is that I FREAKING love this time of year in a horrendously clichéd way. I can't help it that I approach a childish level of giddiness at the sight of an untouched pile of crisp, golden leaves, nor that my obsession with winter knits sees me bankrupt before I even begin thinking about Christmas shopping.

As much as I’ve tried to become an outdoorsy person I’m ultimately hardwired (as I suspect most of us are) to detest early rises and leaving my bed for the harsh winter weather. But isn’t that so much easier to do when you can snuggle into a woolly, oversized coat and soft, tartan scarf? Well, maybe not so much easier, but it certainly helps.

Nights in during the summer months can feel a little tedious. It seems that as the days get shorter and cooler there’s less regret in favouring an indulgent night in rather than braving icy nights on the town. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Christmas nights out and all the glamour associated, but sometimes passing on sequins and sangrias for cosy, button down pyjamas and a deliciously good book can be just as, if not more, rewarding. There’s a pile of books on my bedside table threatening to topple from ever increasing height and I can’t wait to make the most of winter nights and get stuck in. Laura Barnett’s The Versions of Us and Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar are at the top of my reading list. After that? I'm tempted to re-read The Picture of Dorian Gray; there's something more atmospheric about reading a chilling, beautifully written horror at this time of year.

It’s not just nights of literary enlightenment that have got me excited about staying in though. No matter what time of year it is, I love nothing more than a highly unproductive day lost to a Netflix series, preferably accompanied by my duvet and a mountain of Galaxy Caramel, but this season is particularly excellent for TV shows. I’m loving the new episodes of Crazy Ex- Girlfriend, Jane the Virgin and the glossy reboot of Dynasty - a sumptuous cocktail of Gossip Girl, The OC and well, every other bad but seriously addictive show about beautiful, rich people. It’s exactly what you’d expect from Josh Schwartz and Stephanie Savage which is a very good thing, especially when lazy Sundays roll around. That should keep me covered at least until the 27^th October when racing through season 2 of Stranger Things will inevitably become my priority.

Winter is a tale of two contradictions: the busy and the quiet. The weather may be bitterly cold and the grass may seem greener on the other side (i.e those long, hazy summer days) but there is something magical about the period, something that all too often gets lost in the frantic run up to Christmas. Winter should also be about relaxation and taking time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. It is, after all, the most wonderful time of the year…

NG <3

Photo Credits: Kristin Vogt and Pixabay via Pexels. 

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Growing Pains

Something surprising has happened over the past few months; I think I’m finally growing up. At the start of the year I turned 23, hardly geriatric, but truth be told if my younger self looked a year ahead and saw me now I feel that she’d describe me as that word I once dreaded the most: boring. And I’m perfectly happy with that.

 A friend recently asked me on a night out in my hometown and I politely declined. The idea of spending a good hour layering on make-up and agonising over which black dress to wear (I swear they’re all so different) to spend an eye-watering sum of money on radioactive looking shots (drinks should not be acid green), only to wake up next to a greasy, potentially food poisoning inducing kebab did just not appeal to me.

I’m being hyperbolic of course, I’ve had some fantastic nights out in my hometown but of late I just can’t seem to fathom the idea of spending my night sticking to a club floor when I could be in bed indulging in a novel or my latest Netflix find. Bacardi and coke? I’ll stick to a peppermint tea and my book on the Brontës, thanks.

I recently took a walk down memory lane and returned to Nottingham, the city where I spent three years living as a student. It didn’t quite feel the same. During my gap year working I would escape to Nottingham any chance I got to visit my friends there. I suspect a secondary reason to my frequent visits was partial denial at the fact that I had graduated and wasn’t quite where I expected to be in life. I clung onto how walking through Lenton, my former stomping ground, made me feel like a student again, the future still full of possibility while the luxury of not having a definite plan was just part of the package.

I can’t pinpoint the change in my attitude, although I suspect it probably shifted when I began studying at Sheffield. Rather than view my MA as retreating back into a security of student life, I approached it knowing that it would pass quickly and that I would have to consider the future from the minute I stepped foot on campus. It’s daunting but I’ve embraced it. During my gap year I felt stilted; despite having a full time job I was hovering about and didn’t feel quite like an actual adult while I was so fresh out of uni. Ironically, returning to university has made me feel more grown up than ever.

We reached peak Ocean in 2013

During my recent trip to Nottingham I returned to a student club where I spent many boozy nights as an undergrad. I swore I’d never grow tired of the place, from its overpriced VK chasers to the eclectic playlist that jumped from the Arctic Monkeys to Paul Simon to S Club 7 within an hour. “I’m too old for this shit,” I told my friend, barely audible over ‘Lady Marmalade’ (told you the music was brilliant).

The real sour cherry on top of the cake was when the only member of the opposite sex outside the group I was with spoke to me: “So are you a first year then? What hall are you in?” he asked. “No, I’m 23,” I replied. I then gave this very fresh-faced fresher a pearl of wisdom that I certainly didn’t take on board when I was 18: “you’re going to have the best three years of your life. Enjoy every minute. It’ll be over before you know it.”

I felt like I’d moved on from my days in Nottingham, being there felt like I was replaying a happy memory in my mind, in a ‘been there, done that’ sense. And so my friend and I left before midnight, got in our cosiest PJs, had a cup of tea and played a game of monopoly. This ‘boring’ life isn’t so bad after all…

NG <3

Cat photo credit: David O'Hare via Flickr

February Reads

Ahh, February. You crept up so quickly. January was an intense month full of media law revision and enjoying the subsequent week of freedom that followed said exams. During that week I finally got stuck into a pile of books that have been gathering dust on my shelf since last year and am looking forward to whizzing through these this month (although admittedly they will probably see me well into March).

Q&A a day

Although it's not a novel or a 'February read' as such, this 5 year journal is a perfect way to briefly chronicle your thoughts and feelings each day. Every page has a new, simple question, ranging from trivial topics to more serious matters, with space to write an answer on that same day for 5 years. It's a fantastic way to chart how you evolve through the years while indulging in nostalgia and self-reflection.

Viral by Helen Fitzgerald

I sped through this novel in 2 days. It's about a young girl whose life is turned upside down after a video showing her performing sex acts at a club in Magaluf goes viral. The book follows the toxic chain reaction of events after the video becomes infamous and raises serious questions about misogyny and identity. It's a gripping thriller which had me hooked from the provocative first line.

Girl Waits With Gun by Amy Stewart

I can't wait to start this novel after I finish Invincible Summer. It's a true story based on Constance Kopp, one of America's first female deputy sheriffs. The novel follows the life of Kopp and her sisters and their struggle against a ruthless factory owner in the early 20th century.

The Establishment by Owen Jones

I've been dipping in and out of this book for about a year now but now, more than ever, seems like a poignant time to read it. The Guardian columnist writes about the UK government and the privileged few who are really pulling the strings in this powerful bestseller.

Invincible Summer by Alice Adams

The novel follows four friends, Eva, Benedict, Sylvie and Lucien, as they navigate their lives after meeting and graduating university. Is their bond really as strong as they first thought when they go down different paths in life? As I'm finishing my MA course later this year, the story of friends finding their place in the world after graduating is very appealing.

What are you planning to read in February? Do you have any recommendations?

NG <3

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