Hey there! Look at my new ink:

I spent a lovely day in a gorgeously sunny Birmingham at the International Party Show. Needless to say, while my bosses were in a meeting, I went for a wander around and got an airbrush tattoo. Only thing is, I only asked how long it lasts after I'd had it done. Ten bloody days. No offense to anyone who has their wrists tattooed, but I'm sick of it already. Really doesn't suit me, I can't pull it off, I don't think I'm cool enough.

And in case I haven't said so lately, I love my boyfriend. Thanks to him, I can take millions of pictures on my phone, which I love doing. We go together like cookies and cream.

Love,

Mon xx

I miss my partners in crime. The type of friends who never ask why or tell you your ideas are crazy, they just say "when and where?" and show up when you need them. Right now, all I wanna do is get on the next train to an interesting destination, go somewhere that doesn't remotely remind me of uni or anything stressful, because from monday it's gonna be hell. And once again I find myself not being able to do that because I don't enjoy doing these things on my own. Last night I showed the boy on Google Earth where one of such friends can be found, the one that was always suggesting the funniest of adventures. Sadly, she's thirteen hours away on a plane. It sucks. I can't help it; I'm a carefree, fun-seeking, priority-rearranging-on-demand kind of person. I'm gonna go sulk for a while.

Love,

Mon xx

Here's the prospect for the weeks ahead, as of Monday:

Week one: Write essay
Week two: Hand it in
Week three: Write 6 mini essays
Week four: Hand them in
Week five: Write big report
Week six: Hand it in
Week seven: Revise
Week eight: One exam
Week nine: Two exams

Over. And of course add two days in work every week, one day when I'm so exhausted I need time for myself to catch up on sleep and brain cells. So that leaves me...fifteen days to do all that. Not counting weekends cos let's be honest, who can work when the whole family is at home? And who wants to spend the whole day in the smelly library? Not me. So weekends are mostly "breathe-and-don't-kill-yourself" days.

Seriously...how I'm gonna get through it, I really don't know. But it's gonna happen. Needless to say, I may be gone for a while; but I'll pop by to check what's going on.

Oh Jesus. *sigh of desperation*

Love,

Mon xx

Just when I thought I'd be driven mad by this Easter holiday, my boyfriend went and proved me wrong. Cutely enough, we bought each other books; he got me the Shopaholic one I've wanted for a while and one called Walking Ollie, which is about a guy trying to domesticate his naughty pup, haha! And he got me a white chocolate creme brulée egg, not knowing that I'd been lusting after creme brulée since I'd smelt some shower gel that smelt like it on saturday. Either our relationship is one huge coincidence, or we're soul mates - I'll leave that up to you to decide, you can judge on your amount of cynicism. I know which one I believe to be true.

Anyway, last night, after sharing some choccie with the man, I started itching like mad and noticed rashes all over me. Then I suddenly remembered that I'm sliiiightly allergic to chocolate. Damn, I always forget. The chocolate egg was amazing though, totally worth an itchy rash.

Today's song is:

I think me ma will like that! Thanks for walking Oli, ma.

Love,

Mon xx

I know it's not friday, but here it goes:

1. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (Mother and Father's middle name)
Rosario Fernando.

2. NASCAR NAME: (first name of your mother's dad, father's dad)
Manuel Fernando.

3. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name)
Tavmo.

4. DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Pink Dog.

5. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Marina Lisbon.

6. SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd fav color, fav drink, add "THE" to the beginning)
The Green Merlot.

7. FLY NAME: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 3 letters of your last name)
Mores.

8. GANGSTA NAME: (fav ice cream flavor, fav cookie)
Cookie Chocolate Chip.

9. ROCK STAR NAME: (current pets name, current street name).
Oliver Sheil.

10. STRIPPER NAME: (name of your fav perfume/cologne, fav candy)
CK One Jellybean.

11. PORN NAME: (1st pets name, mothers maiden name)
Vicky Carvalho.

And now, back to the weekend shenanigans! *OW...massages head*

Love,

Mon xx

Little question: are you more sensitive to criticism because you have low self-esteem, or do you develop low self-esteem because you're constantly being criticised? Or is it just a vicious circle?

In other news, I have a brilliant job. I love it. The environment's great, my bosses are lovely, the location is the best (except for all the expensive lunches I have to work an hour to pay for...note to self - again: must stop going to Starbucks for delicious hot frothy cappuccinos when it's freezing cold outside!), and the job itself is great; I'm being treated like a professional and my views are appreciated, it's really good experience, and it's fun, which is hard to get from a job. It's boosted my confidence, even though I want to bite my nails when I have to make calls around the bosses; it's just fear of letting them down and of them thinking that I'm not good enough. Completely normal, no?

So this new chapter of my life is going well. Yet I feel... I can't explain it. I think too many years of keeping my feelings under wraps have made me slightly numb. I get so excited and I'm so expressive, but I feel like I don't have the freedom to really be myself at times, as my outbursts of emotion are usually silenced by unresponsive reactions. And that makes me really sad.

Today's song is:

Love,

Mon xx

Consists of trying to work, procrastinating, and running after babydog, who keeps showing up in the living room with random things in his mouth. The neighbours must think I'm crazy. So far today we've had:

"Oli, give the box of Tampax to mummy."

"Oli! ... *sigh* whatever, you can have it."

And when he got fed up of playing with me, he went after his aunty.

"Get away from my onion!"

"Get out from between my legs!"

It's fun really. I love my bundle of fluff.

Love,

Mon xx

...how much I love you.

Hope you're all having a mellow sunday.

Love,

Mon xx

Hey there! I'm back.

Sorry I've been so absent lately, you know what uni's like, or you should cos I whine about it enough!

So my aunty and uncle came to stay with us for a week, it was great, can't wait to see them again in the summer. They took off to Scotland with my parents for a few days and the boyfriends stayed with me and my sister cos we're wimps. And on the last night we were on our own so stayed up all night watching America's Next Topmodel and cooking at four in the morning because, again, we're wimps. The next morning I had to finish a report, which had been taking up a lot of my time until I handed it in yesterday. Also went to see Panic! At the Disco on that night the weather people told you not to leave the house unless you had to; it was totally worth it cos they were great. Driving at 40mph on the motorway was funny too. I also fell down the stairs and am still bruised and achy all over, but I'm fine. Last night me and the boy had champagne to celebrate me starting my new job this week. And today I'm happy cos I made an amazing sauce that tastes like Thai green curry but it's nicer and healthier (as am I, by the way). And in case you're wondering, I know you are really, babydog Oliver is just as cute as ever, but he has learnt the art of revenge by pooping in the wrong places when he doesnt get his way - what would you expect, his mother spoils him rotten! I'm screwed, I know.

So here's a song for today:

Love,

Mon xx

I'm in the library. I have my laptop full of information, a chocolate wrapper and a half-drank cup of coffee next to me. I have my ipod plugged into a computer socket and I'm shocked that no one's come to tell me off about that yet. The only thing actually missing now is the work part. Waste of a day.

Listenning to this for inspiration:

But dancing and air-singing whilst sitting on a chair in a packed library is hardly the best thing to do when people may already have suspicions about you, after you've walked in looking like a happy hippie with wavy golden hair and plaits, when it's miserable outside. The only thing missing are the flowers on my hair.

Love,

Mon xx

And last night I acted like one. I'm skint and I have deadlines coming up so I went out to catch up with my mates and drank a lot of strawberry cider and, wait for it, snakebite & black (pint size, come on, really). And on the way home I got chips to soak up the drinks, which subsequently turned into a chip butty when I got home and found bread, and lead to my sister stating "you're druunk" because I have to be pissed to appreciate such things. She was right, I was; I even let Oliver get away with a chip that fell on the floor because the thought of bending down to pick it up seemed like too much effort, and I was too away with the fairies to care about it. When babydog woke me up this morning I had that fuzzy head feeling and the shakes because clearly I haven't arrived at the hangover stage yet, the alcohol's still being processed. So I'm gonna do some work, look extremely tired, resembling a mental patient on the run, and hit the library later on.

God I sound classy. Better make the most of the last few months in hell, right?!

Love,

Mon xx

I have a new job (it's brilliant and I'm very lucky)
Oliver got me a lovely flower for mum's day (he thought it was a tulip but it's a calla lily)
My hair looks rather fab after the botched dye incident
It's gonna snow
Mike's taking me to a gig this week
My aunty and uncle are coming over this week
My aunty and uncle will be bringing presents with them...

...but all I can think of is: I can't go on holiday until July. *panic attack* Staying here everyday until July?! With exams and essays and my dad at home full time for 2 weeks - no little break at all?! *panic again* I'm going to go insane. The way I see it is "shit shit shit shit, breaaaaathe". But right now the thought of no breathing time is making me palpitate. I need a break. Anywhere. Even Wales.

*checks latest flights and train destinations*

Moaning over; it's not even 9am yet...

Love,

Mon xx