Emerging into the world of the mid 20s, it becomes apparent that society begins to demand certain expectations of you. By 22 you are expected to be working, thinking of the future, predominantly independent and fairly mature.
The first signs of wrinkles and grey hair prop up, responsibility kicks in and that fun loving free child begins to disappear in your reflection; leaving a moody, moaning sceptic on the way to middle age.
Once you recognise the inevitable, certain traits of your personality begin to change and the dream of becoming a famous actor and pissing off to Hollywood becomes a reality - so the day job is kept.
Suddenly, make-up begins to rival the amount of a circus clown, culminating in hours spent in the bathroom: cleansing, toning and moisturising – whilst exfoliating every millimetre of dead skin on your body.
Exercising becomes a daily routine; leading to fatigue that is often confused with alleged old age.
If allowed, the looming thought of aging begins to settle in your mind and depression begins to seep inwards, leading to heavy drinking, chain smoking and nights out on the pull – straight after Tuesday night’s Eastenders.
While life seemingly explodes its way down the fast lane and childhood reluctantly becomes a distant memory, you then wake up one morning realising that all priorities have changed.
Give it another six months and the 19 year old ‘toyboy’ has emerged, a symbol of a life not long left behind.
He’s fun, energetic and hasn’t been screwed around much, meaning that he hasn’t matured into the player that you dated a year ago. Apparently this kind of behaviour is more popular with the over 25s, who can’t get a girl their own age, so they prey on the ones susceptible to mind fucks – learnt from their previous ‘loves’.
Women are constantly reminded early on that time is running out, so I guess in some ways the long term relationship is good on paper.
Of course the overly enthusiastic boyfriend may often forget that you’re ‘old’ now and not a machine.
Having responsibility, is like the bipolar of the 20 something’s... that’s how they act anything. Moaning about this that and the other, because they don’t get as many birthday presents, have to pay taxes and don’t have their arse wiped for them anymore. At the same time, loving their sense of freedom, their car and the sacred all important credit card.
Yes, everyone that literally is the symbol of maturity – debt. According to society anyway!
Growing up also means realising that there are important choices ahead, do you take that dead end job or go at it alone? Can you even work for the man? When is the right time to move out? Do I need the new BlackBerry Touch? Would a subscription to Glamour really benefit my life?
In a lot of ways, 20 something’s are just teenagers with better salaries and a car, no wonder the world is going to hell!!!
Thursday 25 August 2011
Thursday 18 August 2011
London Calling!!!
A very sad person once told me that you only live once; being an agnostic I chose not to argue my theory of reincarnation as that often labels you as a Buddhist.
Being ‘on the fence’ I had to take into account that this concept could be true and decided to live by it, eventually adopting the Yes Man theory (you’ve seen or heard of the film). Since then I’ve made my beloved trips to London a regular occurrence, as strong friendships and shopping sprees are a religion worth worshipping!
When I go to London, I go in style. This to me means an empty suitcase to fill up, cheap coach travel and plenty of molar to flash on Camden market!
You can go to London and visit Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park or The London Eye, but for the alternative few who seek adventure, there is always something a little diverse.
First a tip for travelling, if like me you prefer to travel cheaply, you must understand that cheap often means LONG!
The average National Express journey from Peterborough is about two and a half hours; add that to your excitement and you have approximately 5670 anxious foot taps ahead; unless you bring something to do.
Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics are a sure fire way to pass the time, as you will be so engrossed in study you will forget your destination - or shamelessly fall asleep from boredom.
Jump on the Piccadilly Line to East Hounslow and make your way to Kingston upon Thames. Chill out with a cold cider by the river and take in the scenery- then hold your breath! The charming old local tramp that belches Special Brew has come to say hello. Think that’s normal? This one shouts “Happy Birthday” at you, when it’s actually your birthday.
In Kingston, bask in awe at another wonder. Known to some as “Man with the magic tooth”, as he eats and drinks, his front left tooth miraculously disappears and reappears right before your very eyes- to the point where you think you’ve had one too many JD’s or someone’s spiked them!
This happy individual will entertain all throughout the night and early hours of the morning.
Get your London legs on, because in London nothing moves slowly...apart from tourists! Learn to weave, leap, dive and hell at the idiots that fail to put one foot in front of another. Despite rumours, Zone Two is often worse than Zone One for this kind of pavement theft. Oh and for those that didn’t know, London legs is a term used often and translates in slang as, “Move your bloody arse.”
Whilst heaving your luggage around Victoria Coach Station as you run to your final destination, take two minutes to stop for a 30 Pence Piss. A common but unnoticed London attraction, where public urination (that old beloved past time), soon becomes a reality when your purse/wallet protrudes a moth that lay dormant until Saturday nights 4th cosmopolitan.
Being ‘on the fence’ I had to take into account that this concept could be true and decided to live by it, eventually adopting the Yes Man theory (you’ve seen or heard of the film). Since then I’ve made my beloved trips to London a regular occurrence, as strong friendships and shopping sprees are a religion worth worshipping!
When I go to London, I go in style. This to me means an empty suitcase to fill up, cheap coach travel and plenty of molar to flash on Camden market!
You can go to London and visit Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park or The London Eye, but for the alternative few who seek adventure, there is always something a little diverse.
First a tip for travelling, if like me you prefer to travel cheaply, you must understand that cheap often means LONG!
The average National Express journey from Peterborough is about two and a half hours; add that to your excitement and you have approximately 5670 anxious foot taps ahead; unless you bring something to do.
Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics are a sure fire way to pass the time, as you will be so engrossed in study you will forget your destination - or shamelessly fall asleep from boredom.
Jump on the Piccadilly Line to East Hounslow and make your way to Kingston upon Thames. Chill out with a cold cider by the river and take in the scenery- then hold your breath! The charming old local tramp that belches Special Brew has come to say hello. Think that’s normal? This one shouts “Happy Birthday” at you, when it’s actually your birthday.
In Kingston, bask in awe at another wonder. Known to some as “Man with the magic tooth”, as he eats and drinks, his front left tooth miraculously disappears and reappears right before your very eyes- to the point where you think you’ve had one too many JD’s or someone’s spiked them!
This happy individual will entertain all throughout the night and early hours of the morning.
Get your London legs on, because in London nothing moves slowly...apart from tourists! Learn to weave, leap, dive and hell at the idiots that fail to put one foot in front of another. Despite rumours, Zone Two is often worse than Zone One for this kind of pavement theft. Oh and for those that didn’t know, London legs is a term used often and translates in slang as, “Move your bloody arse.”
Whilst heaving your luggage around Victoria Coach Station as you run to your final destination, take two minutes to stop for a 30 Pence Piss. A common but unnoticed London attraction, where public urination (that old beloved past time), soon becomes a reality when your purse/wallet protrudes a moth that lay dormant until Saturday nights 4th cosmopolitan.
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