Happiness

Since my last post, I have returned from Uni, turned 20, been to bars in Derby that I have never ventured in before (and probably won't again until I take out a loan), had my nails painted, put up my first ever real Christmas tree, had a dinner party with close family friends and drank rather a large quantity of French red. 

20th Birthday drinks! 

And over the past two days I have been unbelievably happy, I thought I was before Saturday (which I was) but something that I saw on Saturday made me realise how happy I actually am (and you all will be as well!... or at least I hope - if not let me know and I'll whack out some warm fuzzies... ). 

So I woke up on Saturday morning, my 20th birthday, to be greeted by my parents with a Yves Saint Laurent gift and a Ted Baker gift bag, who doesn't love material items?! Then my mum handed me a voucher to get my nails done in my favourite spa in Derby. I was just going for a simple manicure when Mrs Lillian Bettencourt (look her up) walked in. Or should I saw Ms. She began ordering around the six-month pregnant manager of the Spa with all of these dates she wanted "beautifying" as she had a "ridiculous amount" of Christmas Parties that she simply must look fantastic at darling. She booked two pedicures in one week (how they are fitting her in, I do not know - unless it comes to monetary terms - the senior manager is on maternity leave and there are two junior therapists and the manager - who's pregnant). She also booked in four spray tans between now and New Years Eve, two facials between now and NYE and other things that I can't even pronounce or were just too extreme to contemplate. All this happened whilst she was checking her emails on her gold iPhone 5S and shaking her wrists whilst she showed off her rose gold Marc Jacobs watch and Links of London bracelet - which nobody asked to see. She then threw down her Prada and began taking off her boots to have a pedicure - which involved a serious amount of cling film, foil and what looked like soaked muslin. This was a serious pedicure for a women who's feet looked like they'd been pampered an hour previous. 

She then talked about her "breakfasts" with Mr x (not her husband, not sure whether it was her partner or not - sounded more like a business thing) - who does "breakfast"?! And then how she had started having botox in her nose... yes, not her forehead or crows feet (of which she had none because clearly she has had botox there)... she said it only bled for 20 minutes and she felt like she had a new nose... 

Whilst I waited for my nails to dry I was just staring in adoration at this woman who had clearly a ridiculous amount of money to spend on these kind of treatments and she looked incredible - her hair was perfect her make up was incredible, she wore Prada and a cute Joules knit. But there was no way she was happy. I could  see it in her eyes, especially when she looked at me like I was a piece of dust that had scraped her pedicure. It was like she was superior but actually she knew that everyone knew she was deep down trying to cover something up. I don't know what, thats obvs a bit deep for a spa, but it was interesting to see. I wonder how her pedicure held up and how her parties went. 

The pregnant woman was happy, she's wanted a baby for a really long time and now she's finally eight weeks away from the bundle of joy (errrr) entering the world. However she said she has been unbelievably sick since the first month of being pregnant, but she said it is so worth it. If you can be sick four times a day for five months and still be extremely optimistic and excited that is definitely pure happiness. 

Today, I am reasonably happy, I woke up with a pile of dishes to wash and champagne flutes to not break as well as having just compiling all of my assignments that are due in. I have six. Yes six. That have all been given to us in the space of four days. They range from 1,500 words to 4,500 words. The silver lining is that they are not due in till 10th March, some not till 2nd May! #winning. Still that is going to be a long Christmas of planning. BUT who cares... its Christmas! - that is very exciting news! 

It is interesting things that make up happy, usually the material, tangible things are only a temporary cure, I'm happy when people find mistakes in my blog posts because I can't be bothered to check them. At least you know they are written by me and not some robot I have employed! 

I hope you have a fantastic Christmas and a very happy New Year

RHS x 

My two most recent dreams

I have the weirdest dreams, Sarah and Natalie love hearing about them the next morning and saying "Are you ok?" - they sound like really deep, meaning full dreams but I just have an active mind, they don't mean anything! Or do they... I'll write this and have to go and freak out about the "meaning of dreams" - cue Freud. 

Dream One.

My most recent dream was two nights ago, when I decided I was going back to Sixth Form, but not to my actually Sixth Form, to my Secondary School (the confessions of an all Girls' Private School... yeah that one). I left there because I needed a fresh start, but apparently I wanted to go back there for Sixth Form. I'd dropped out of Uni, paid to be let back into Sixth Form, four years after I started and I was determined to get better grades than I did at my actual Sixth Form and I was also determined that I was going to Warwick. If no one is "Geeked-up" on Universities Warwick is THE place to go for Business (They require A*AA and at least a B at AS level) so I needed to up my game if I was going to get into Warwick. It was the strangest thing going back to that crazy mad house. I was in Sixth Form with all the people that were in year 9 when I left and there were boys in year 7, very strange. There were school bells and we had to stand when the head teacher came in - a new one, it was a man. Well odd. 

The rest of that dream continued with me bumping into a friend from Uni (a friend that I'm currently at Uni with, who will remain unnamed, I am yet to tell her this though haha). She told me that to pay for her weekly food shops she was (as she put it) "selling her body for money like the women in Stockton do" - yes. Really, that is what I was told, I highly doubt it's true, intact I know its not because she'd charge a FORTUNE. Funny though, dreams are so amazing. 

Dream Two - it gets better. 

I was getting married. End of NIGHTMARE. No really, I, Me, Ruth Hannah Smith the First was getting married (pause for a moment of confusion). I seemed very excited although it was the oddest experience ever. Firstly, we weren't in a Church - big no no. Secondly, my Dad was some kind of giant (he's only about 5'11'') and he was dragging me down this room to the room I was getting married in. The doors opened in this chateau-type place and I saw loads of people sat on chairs with an isle down the middle, but Dad walked me round the edge to meet my "husband-to-be" - well, I, never. He was about 55, 55 stone, grey haired, just no, basically. I was not impressed. I had basically had my marriage arranged for me. So I was forced into the middle with him and I started mouthing to mum "get me out of here" and she kept shaking her head. So I ran. To the toilets. Standard girl. Mum ran after me and said "you need to be careful of where you run out of" - to which I said I'm not getting married to him. Then I woke up in cold sweats.

Weirdest dream OF MY LIFE. I had to text my mother it was that awful. 

Ok, maybe that one sounded a bit distressing but still quite funny, but not as funny an ending as the first. 

Nevertheless, I may start posting my dreams more, they amuse me somewhat.

Sweet dreams 

RHS x 

zzzzzzz

The John Lewis Christmas advert is here!

The John Lewis Christmas 2013 ad is here - "The Bear and The Hare" shows a beautiful journey between two friends leading up to Christmas and the joys of giving. 

The cover of Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know” by Lily Allen give the video an extra touch of sparkle and serenity. 

enjoy... and Merry Christmas?

RHS x

What happened last night?

2:30am - Scream.

This post is called "What happened last night" because that was the content of the first text received from my friend first thing this morning...

Ah, THE wednesday night. Scream. Derby. 

'Scream Dream' - Unfortunately, its not all a dream. 

"Who do you think we'll see tonight" 

"I don't think many people are out" 

- As we sipped (downed, almost) our cocktails in Vines (JellyBaby - Vodka, raspberry fizz (which is blue!) and orange juice). 

Well weren't we wrong!

Cocktails! Vines. 

Friary (Bar attached to Scream) was swarming with people we all knew, some we wanted to see, some we avoided all eye contact with and scurried past like mice towards mature cheddar - you know how it is. But then loads of "I haven't seen you in AGES"'s and "How are you?!"'s, then the "I'll see you in there!" - never to be seen again, apart from awkward "HEY's" and a quick jive as you pass each other on the way to the toilet - you know how it is. 

It was a long night. I documented it - most of it. I don't really have super power memory! Here is what I documented (I won't tell you what I can remember and what I can't but my notes tell me I wasn't in a perfect state of mind as my English looks like slight Russian-cum-Tanzanian)

I attempted to get my six pack out to 'Mysterious Girl' - the DJ said "get your six pack out!" - I don't have a six pack and thanks to my top tucked into my shorts I struggled to untuck it. No flashing occurred - thank God. Thank you God. 

My famous saying of "on a scale of one to ten" came back, several times, several times too many "On a scale of one to ten how much is a shot of Apple Sours?", "On a scale of one to ten, how many people are in here that you don't want to see?" - see, they don't even make sense. One did: "on a scale of one to ten, what are my chances..." - I'll stop there. 

My friend lost her phone. iPhone 5 to be exact, so no big deal really. There was a fight, a meagre fight at that - still a "fight" (cat fight) and her phone got thrown out of her hand. But she was a little tipsy and couldn't quite understand what to do. Thankfully, (Thank you God) a very nice boy (In a "blazer and white shirt" - as he described) rang my phone (clearly looked on recent calls - clever boy) and came and kindly returned it - That my friends, was lucky (hope he wasn't expecting a drink).

3:15am - Yes, this is a man with this fists to a taxi.

Hmm, the sensitive topic of boyfriends, girlfriends, exs and "friends" - I won't go into that. Not really much to report... The DJ slowed the pace at about 2:15am with 'Angels' and yeah I didn't write this bit down so I'm not so sure... But it was that part of the night where "I love you!" is whispered to your friends and you all hug and dance... "A month and we'll be separated - till Christmas!" - It was emotional at the time - We've all been there. 

Then, I did the unspeakable (after two shots), I had a pizza (ok, it was just two slices - "just"). I had pizza. Pizza. Pizza. It is a fantastic job that I am gracing the gym with my presence later - I used to never go into those places - "takeaways"? - now I'm eating out of them! - Its been great knowing you all. It was however, very pleasing to see other girls tucking into takeaways - who said it was summer anyway?! 

Also I want to say thank you to all the people that said they have read and are enjoying my blog last night! - THANKS! 

Luckily I didn't wake up with a baby or a tiger in my bathroom (did others?), or a hangover! - I know, I'm superwoman (I should be after the amount I drank, I mean very little that I drank!). It was a very good night nevertheless and I bumped into people I haven't seen for years, waved at people very awkwardly, said "swap places in one, two three" many times to avoid eye contact, danced like a mad baboon and had a dream that I was trying to get into St. Andrew's university to study Psychology - I knew the pizza was a bad idea. 

RHS x

What the North has taught me

As a country bumpkin in the heart of Derbyshire ("There is no finer county in England than Derbyshire" - Miss Bingley, Pride and Prejudice - yes I went there)  going to the outskirts of Middlesbrough for University was rather a scary thought - but amazingly exciting - I'd always wanted to live in a city - I thought. 

Ahh how to talk about Middlesbrough - the locals are friendly, one once told me where Topshop was (how nice!) ... I'm sure there's more things... 

Anyway... I've lived there for a year now and am currently back in Derbyshire (or London, where some people believe I live - I'm just far too posh darling) and I've been thinking about what I have learnt from the North because I can assure its definitely a learning curve going to another part of the country. 

For example:

Nights out in Newcastle

The Quayside - Newcastle

"Why are you wearing flats? We're going to Newcastle - GO AND CHANGE YOUR SHOES!" - standard conversation several seconds before boarding a taxi to Newcastle. 

Never EVER EVER wear flats to Newcastle - unless you want to blend in with the students and ugly people - that's what I was told. 

Students (I am told) stand out in Newcastle on first arrival - they are white (people in Newcastle look like slight relations to South Americans, or that popular fizzy drink... ah, Tango), they wear flats - deary me, poor souls they don't stand a chance. 

There's a saying in Newcastle "go high or go home" - After one treble in Bijoux I'll pick home please #lightweight 

Getting ready for a night out 

(this is entirely what I have learnt + some added because I'd missed "loads" out) 

It takes me about 2 hours to get ready for a night out (from shower - changing my flats to heels).

Only 2 hours because THANKFULLY I was blessed with that natural fake tan that renews itself like, every day really. I have a constant tan - weird I know. 

2 hours - I got laughed at, when at about 7pm the night before we were due to go out I couldn't find several of my friends because they'd already started prep. 

26 HOURS BEFORE WE WERE DUE TO LEAVE - I kid you not. 

The schedule for a night out (I believe this is an extreme, depends how much (many) you want to pull - I should have quoted that, I didn't say that) 

Friday Night (going out on Saturday night)

1. Shower
2. Hair
3. Tan 
4. Blow dry hair (upside down - make it BIG!)

(my friday night would have included going to the gym so I could wear a crop top on the Saturday night - then potentially watching Love Actually with Ben and Jerry - old friends, not the ice cream - obvs)

Saturday Morning (were getting there) 

1. Shower (I'm guessing watch tan go down the drain to leave a golden goddess - hmm)
2. Put on more tan (South American - Tango)
3. Go into town to buy a new dress (about midday apparently), buy new shoes.
4. Get nails done - full set of acrylics (who said the North was cheap?) 
5. Bye 2 sets of eyelashes (after all, who wants to see your eyes anyway? - its dark) 

Saturday Evening (I'd be having a nap if I had done this much on a Saturday yawn)

1. Shower (do not get hair wet! - friz was never in fashion)
2. Get dressed
3. Tan on face (Tango - down right there is no colour to give you any hints at what colour) 
4. Foundation (Tango-pasty?!)
5. Bronzer - And I mean a lot (Tango - mad colour - pasty - glittery bronze) 
6. Always a smokey eye (to cover the eyelash glue) 
7. Straighten hair and curl (I'd recommend a sturdy heat protection spray) - but no poodles please
8. Backcomb hair - "must be poofy" 
9. Must wear heels (here we go again) 

Are we ready to go yet? - jeez.

Were finished. Moving on...

Phrases - a.k.a. another language 

When I asked my friends what they learnt from the North, general answers included free drugs (oh dear), the accent (or complete new language) and "mums on tour" - think we got a bit side tracked. 

Anyway, wow the accent. HAHA, I thought learning French was difficult but this is like crazy to understand. 

"Why aye" - did I spell that right? - this means... actually I have no idea what this means, sorry. 

Bijoux - with a local Geordie (and friend!)

- one treble too many.

"Flanter" - this is flirty banter, usually with the opposite sex and you don't know you're doing it but everyone else notices - surely not!

"Shanter" - this is sh*t banter, if you need any tips on Shanter just ask me, I'm the best at it haha. 

"How way" - was that spelt right? - this means like "come on" or "come on man" - Geordie's say "Man" a lot - even to a girl, I was really shocked at this behaviour.

AND. 

this is the best they say "Master" like "maRster" but "Bath" is just "Bath" not "baRth" - freaks I tell you - best to avoid the Geordie in their natural habitat. 

Other things you need to know

Do not go to Goldies in Stockton on Tees, unless your name begins with a G and ends in reg. Its full of "dirty old women" - Wait, just don't go to Stockton-on-tees in the first place - good idea. 

A Parmo is great if you want to die of coronary heart disease precisely 5 hours after eating - Ok, I've not seen it happen, YET anyway. There are only some places that make the best Parmos - or its best to ask LB to make you one. Its chicken (sorry, "chicken" with béchamel sauce and cheese, like a lot of cheese...)

So far the best takeaway we have found is Malones in Middlesbrough (they do the best cheeseburgers! and Pizzas - yes I actually had half a pizza after one night out, I spent 2 hours in the gym the next day and could still notice I'd eaten it.)

The boys love themselves (boys, never lads in Newcastle), love themselves sometimes too much. I believe they are called "spice boys" because they are cinnamon sweet. haha, no they pluck their eyebrows and probably use an eyebrow pencil and have more fake tan on then girls and wear the lowest cut tops I have ever seen - I have to look away, far too much skin on show.

Durham Cathedral and Castle - a beautiful part of the North East

Never go to Sam Jacks in Newcastle, ever, even if you're a boy I really wouldn't recommend it. I was warned and walked in, my eyes were horrified I was stuck to the spot and just about managed to sprint back out - never to look back. I'm still recovering. 

Ahh the North East, my second home (although the Dr's surgery is adamant its my first home, hmm not sure how I feel about that). A different culture to what I know here - as Daisy (our cow) looks at me from the field, waiting to be milked and Mary the sheep sleeps and Lady Gaga the Rabbit digs a burrow (which do you believe?) - but definitely a culture in its own right and the people are very friendly! 

Southerners should give it a try before they buy - they could probably buy Newcastle with their monthly income. 

IF THEY WERE A BILLIONAIRE HAHAH. 

its a great place! 

Happy travelling and Geordie-ing 

RHS x 

p.s. Dinner or Lunch?

 Lunch, agreed? agreed. 

Easy like Sunday morning

Ahh bacon sarnies (sandwiches darling), football, beef bourginon, red wine and a Jane Austen novel.

And for first time in ages - no work at 6pm - a real day of rest ahh. 

So I've edited my blog a bit - seeing as I have joined so many new sites - Tumblr, Svpply (American, but I am getting addicted to it - find things (anything, I mainly find products) you want and have (just to make people jealous)) and Delicious (which is my least favourite but still an easy way to find blogs you actually want to read).

Tumblr is by far my most favourite, latest join - I love how you can design your own page and post anything you want! - get it!.. and add me. 

I'm slightly consumed by quotes at the minute and they're my favourite things to post on Tumblr, I am now no longer afraid to admit that I love A.A.Milne quotes (basically what Winnie the pooh - and friends said): 

"Think it over, think it under" - Winnie the Pooh. 

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one. So I will never have to live a day without you" - Piglet. 

ahh - that was nice wasn't it. 

So Im currently sat in my living room whilst mum conducts some Pilates moves (found on MY iPad), dad files his nails (yep) and I watch the Derby match (we're winning 1-0 to Blackburn)

Its raining, its warm, the beef is cooking and I've already practised my violin for an hour and played the piano for half an hour and been and bought all of my bedding for year 2 - King Size quilts - YES. 

(mum wouldn't let me buy a sign that says "no boys allowed" for my bedroom) - sigh. 

I'm several chapters into Pride and Prejudice and I have to say I highly recommend it! - I think its free on iBooks - it would make a good summer read if you don't regularly get a shot of English culture - ok, the novel is more of a triple JD that takes several hours to drink then a down in one shot of Sambuca - but trust me - its good! 

Talking of drinks - Do people use sundays as a day to get over hangovers before work starts again on Monday - perhaps. 

Definitely the best part of Sundays is family time - even if you don't talk to each other, presence in itself is satisfying enough. 

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in our hearts" - A.A.Milne

Happy sunday

RHS x