Since the sun has blessed us with its much longed for presence, I’ve been in a rather cheerful mood and it got me thinking about all those moments which just give you that feeling of elation, and here they are:
1) Getting through something difficult
This is what I was expecting after getting through my tattoo (the Obamas included).
Whether it’s physical or emotional, the feeling of relief and happiness when you get through something challenging is unrivalled. My most physically challenging moment was probably my piercing or my tattoo, having a huge needle at the side of your nose when it’s your first piercing is more than a tad traumatic. Unfortunately, just as I was about to say ‘’I don’t think I want to do this’’ I felt this searing pain in my nose and then some tears gathering in my eyes. I built my tattoo up to be scarier than it was, it wasn’t particularly painful and when it was I just moaned ‘’Ow that HURT’’ nothing like stating the obvious. I’m sure my tattooist was thinking ‘’Of course it’s gonna hurt bitch, it’s a tattoo’’. Getting my tattoo was definitely an achievement, I felt like I deserved a standing ovation when it was finished (I didn’t get one).
Of course, there are those challenging emotional moments as well, which often take a little longer than physical traumas. Part of my healing process for any emotional pain is hiding under my duvet for a few days (or weeks), listening to Amy Winehouse and other depressing artists. Eventually, it progresses to getting out of bed (or being forced out by my friends), having a cup of tea (Britain’s answer to everything), doing some exercise and then looking the world in the face, shaking my fist and going ‘’No! I refuse to be beaten!’’ – it works a treat.
2) The first signs of summer
What the average British male likes to wear in the summer.
We’ve recently been blessed with the first rays of summer after a long stretch of copious amounts of rain. We were receiving so much rain that I was beginning to wonder whether I should befriend some design students and get them to build me an ark, because I was sure the second coming of the great flood was imminent. Britain always goes a bit bonkers when the first sign of summer arrives; we just start getting naked like we’re allergic to clothes. I swear there’s some secret competition going on that happens when the sun is out to see how little clothing you can get away with wearing without getting arrested; for the sake of the general public, I shall abstain from this competition.
Unfortunately, my degree is 100% coursework based so whilst everyone is out frolicking in the sun and having water fights, I have essays to complete. Consequently, this afternoon I was stood with my face pressed against the window bitterly thinking ‘’When you’re all on Facebook tonight complaining about sunburn, I shall LAUGH’’ before snapping the curtains shut and beginning work. I also made plans to confine myself to the library where I could stew in the dark and so the sight of people enjoying the sun wouldn’t make me go on some bloody rampage through campus. However, when everyone is still revising for their exams, I shall be running gleefully through campus shouting ‘’I’m freeeee, I’m freeee! Oh and I NEVER get sunburnt’’, if I run past you doing this and you punch me in the face, I won’t blame you.
3) When your favourite song is played on a night out
Unless you’re in such a state you can’t remember the music being played, your favourite song coming on when you’re out on the razzle is one of THEEEEEE best feelings in the world. You know when someone’s favourite song has come on, because they kind of make this cheer and then stick one hand up in the air and sway to the music whilst they have their eyes half closed and this look on their face like someone is repeatedly stimulating their g spot – it’s pretty amazing to watch. There’s the odd exception to the rule though, for example when ‘’Get Low’’ comes on I do this squeal in my friend’s face, before saying ‘’I’m going to grind you’’ (she has no choice in the matter) before dancing so outrageously that I repeatedly die under the safety of my duvet the next morning in embarrassment when I remember. When the song stops, I (usually) cease dancing and try and cling onto the shreds of dignity I have left by going to the bar (wise move).
4) Successfully cooking a meal
These are the actual bananas that I froze.
Anybody who knows me will know that my cooking skills are work in progress. It wasn’t till I was eighteen that I realised my omelettes always turned into fried eggs because I never whisked them before putting them in the pan.
Since arriving at university, I’ve been the butt of many jokes which to be perfectly honest, are well deserved. For example, first few weeks I survived off sausages, veg and either beans or chips, I served it every.single.day. My reasoning was that at least I knew I was getting protein, carbs and fibre, although the sausages were Sainsbury’s basics, so I’d probably been better off chewing bark if I was looking for protein. I also had the novel idea of freezing my bananas because I ‘’wanted to make them last longer’’, in actual fact you have to throw them away – smart move Zoe, smart move. There’s also the various times my veg was half frozen, the time I mistakenly put a packet of Thai sauce on a hot hob and it melted, and the time I made a Spanish omelette and the potatoes were so raw it was like they’d only just been plucked from the ground. Oh and I managed to burn rice once, set fire to a tea towel and set the fire alarm of twice at home when making toast – how I haven’t killed myself yet is a mystery.
Luckily, with lots of help, I’ve become less of a danger in the kitchen and nobody refuses my offer to cook for them because they ‘’don’t want food poisoning’’. My first real meal was spaghetti which my Mum received an over-excited picture text of. Yes, Nigella Lawson’s job is more than safe, but I’ve discovered I really enjoy cooking and there’s an immense satisfaction in cooking something that isn’t raw, doesn’t taste funny and doesn’t make people feel sick.
5) Being on Holiday
This is what I envision myself as when I’m walking down the beach, the reality is to tragic to think about.
Ok, holidays are stressful; it’s a fact of life. Everything from the airport, when you’re sprinting towards your gate because they’re calling your name for the last time: ‘’Muuuuuumbaaaaaa, last call for Muuuuuumba!’’ – I swear I could have over took Usian Bolt that day, I was running so fast I was almost flying). Then there’s GETTING there and having to go through the tense ‘’wait for your suitcase’’ moment. After watching enough episodes if Airline it is safe to say I have a perpetual fear of being left for the duration of my holiday to spend in my travelling clothes. It’s always YOUR suitcase that comes out last as well, you’re starting to get scared and begin eyeing all the other suitcases just in case you need to pinch someone else’s and then BOOM! Your suitcase appears and all is well.
Oh and of course, when you spend the entire holiday flinging towels off sunbeds because some selfish people get up at the crack of dawn to leave their towels and sun loungers and then piss off for the ENTIRE day – RAGEEEEEE. These days I throw the towel on another towel inhabited sun lounger and drag the one I’ve ‘’stolen’’ to a different spot so they don’t know it’s me who nicked it.
However, there’s always that moment when you’re strutting down the beach, past the middle aged men in too tight speedos and fifty year old sunburnt women with their wrinkly boobs hanging out and you feel like a sexual god(dess). The sun is shining and you have nothing but relaxation in front of you, until checkout. That is of course, unless you contract food poisoning, I had one friend who had a SEVERE case of it and ran back to his hotel room to use the toilet and had his trousers round his ankles before he’d even unlocked the door.