I can’t believe it’s a year since I didn’t become a better person..

Happy New Year… *air kisses*.

New Year New me. This is my year for love. This Year is MY Year. This year I’m going to find Mr Right (no not Mark). This year I’m going to lose 20 stone. Excuse me while I go and kick myself in the face.

Right so enough with the clichés already.  I’m starting to lose the plot slightly by not be able to turn anywhere without seeing “ lose weight now” “be skinny and successful” “find the man of your dreams” “take control of your work and love life whilst losing weight” “be successfully skinny and in love with an amazingly gorgeous man and have amazing tantric sex whilst being a domestic goddess and have everyone love you”.

For fuck sake. Enough already. So are we destined to spend the whole of Jan feeling inadequate with our poor effort at sticking to our new year’s resolutions that include spending ludicrous amounts on a gym membership that will be used for a week before being promptly forgotten in place for a bottle of wine and a slab of dairy milk? Or there’s always the latest Z list celeb exercise DVD to try at home whilst dad is yelling “come on fatty you’re blocking the TV”. Someone pass me the Doritos.

Also yes I may have a slightly disastrous dating history of late but that does not mean I need setting up with your lovely friend Sam who as lovely as I’m sure he is, calls me babes whilst staring at my chest and doesn’t notice when I slip the phrase “zombies came and took my brain” into the convo just to see how much he was listening. Winner.

Don’t worry kids we can go back to being fat and single for Feb.. Just before Valentines Day (not even getting started on that day of hell).

So January the first encourages the average normal person to think up at least three unrealistic resolutions (when pissed on NYE) that last about as long as the glass of champagne that’s being downed whilst thinking of them.

Ready for mine;

• 1. Detox Jan- No alcohol cigarettes or take aways- spirits don’t count do they, and take away doesn’t include Burger King if you eat in? technically speaking
• 2. Join the gym- Aha didn’t put a date on this bad boy so effectively could still happen
• 3. Learn how to play the guitar- looked at one and instagrammed it whilst in France…Does this count?
• 4. Always take off make up and lashes before bed- waking up with one on my forehead thinking it was a spider leans towards the failure of this

Okay I can’t do resolutions. I like chocolate and wine, the gym seems like a great idea it just eats into my lunch catch ups with the girls and I suppose I could go after work but then I’d miss Don’t Tell the Bride…Not going to happen! I’d love to learn an instrument but my previous experience with instruments isn’t great. Having a recorder teacher tell you to pretend to play isn’t great for the old confidence! & as for taking all make up off- please see resolution 1.

I’m in no way a sceptic but what exactly is going to make this year any different or more special from the last? It hasn’t started out all that great. Knowing how cold it is and feeling generous I decided to give a busker some money, he then proceeded to ask my name and make up a song on the spot and sing it to me… in front of the contents of a busy underground train. Completely out of tune, wouldn’t let me leave, his dog had his nose in my handbag, cue immense laughter from passers by. Literally wanted to grab my £2 and run!

Am I the only one that has no intention of sticking to my new years resolutions? Please excuse me whilst I go and spoon the tin of Roses that’s still lurking around from Christmas,

Peace Love & False Lashes xo

Dating in Trainers

Whoever created the first high top wedge is a girl/guy after my own heart. Mixing fashion with practicality is genius, having a shoe you can not only walk in but can happily wear all day, look hot in and even run in if needs must. I am a strong believer in wearing shoes you feel comfortable in but normally wouldn’t dream of wearing trainers on a first date but got kinda caught out by being in a rush for work so just whacked on the high-tops. This proved to be a great choice of footwear.

This was never meant to be a dating blog & Isn’t turning into one but as my dating stories (nightmares) leave so many of my nearest and dearest in stitches I thought I may as well share the latest mishaps. After my last few dealing’s I’ve decided I actually quite enjoy being single and could totally do with getting a cat and growing a beard (I joke, I joke).

There’s only so many times a girl can be asked on a date to Nando’s (four different guys in one week) before she starts to get a complex, am I starting to look like the best way to get a free whole chicken? I think not. I am very much team Nando’s don’t get me wrong but the idea of licking chicken juice off your fingers on a first date and having to keep traipsing up and down getting your own cutlery sauce and drinks just doesn’t appeal, especially as I am THE messiest eater and could make a mess with an apple!

Okay so the last few dates I’ve been on. Interesting. I’m known for “never giving the nice guys a chance” so I thought okay what the hell, I’ll do it and go on a date with (what I thought was) a lovely guy, not really my type & not totally jaw droppingly gorgeous (no Mr. Grey) but screw it why not you only live once.. yes YOLO.

We’d been talking a while, he seemed actually interested in my hobbies, childhood, passions, dislikes which is pretty unusual and nice for a guy as usually conversations go one way pretty quickly.. “what are you wearing” is always a classic :/ always answer this one with “My onesie blanket and slippers”.. mental images go wild. Seriously what a shit question though guys!

Anyway we met up, him wearing his fitness first backpack on both arms, holding both straps and swinging from side to side looking more like a bird spotter or Dora the explorers older brother than potential date material. Instantly thought; you’re not my type but I’m willing to give this guy a go. He immediately asks where there’s cheap drinks or a happy hour around here? I look blank as I haven’t been a student for hmm.. 2 years and generally just go for nice chilled out bars with a good atmosphere, just me here ladies?

So we finally find somewhere acceptable, giving Wetherspoons/O’neils a wide birth- didn’t even dignify these “ideas” with a response by pretending I had gone momentarily deaf. He then tells me that he knows I’m a posh spoilt Kent girl but he’s not made of money- don’t hold back now sweetie. Ordered a white wine spritzer with soda (fairly normal choice) he asks what that is and I have to explain whilst also explaining that; don’t worry Mr budget it’s no more expensive that a glass of wine. He still looked puzzled so I literally gave up and said “Okay I’ll have a Prosecco“. You would have literally thought I’d asked for him to tap dance on the table whilst whistling the theme tune to Eastenders and chucking in a few jazz hands for good measure. (I went for a glass of wine in the end when the Prosecco seemed too much of a challenge).

He then asked if a bottle would be cheaper.. I’m thinking it would have been cheaper to run away at this point but humoured him. He ordered the bottle exclaiming “shit! wine’s expensive” and then went on to ask me how I found going to school in Fulham. I didn’t. Wrong girl.

By this point I was wondering how exactly I could escape without throttling him. He decided to bring up exes (great first date chat.. not). I found out that he’d met his ex on Facebook, she lived in Bulgaria and they were very much in love despite only meeting twice and never sleeping together “you know when you just know” . Oh. Sweet. Jesus.

Spent rest of time trying to think of poverty, dead puppies, rainy days and any other sad things to stop me laughing in his face. How do these people find me? Couldn’t even make a comeback from this one, and feigned a headache so I could leave at half 8. He insisted on walking me to the station (bit drunk- him not me), me walking 10 paces ahead, him hopping around yelling “I need a weeee” .. the weirdy just turned into a 10 year old child on me. Resisted the urge to ask him why he hadn’t gone before we left.

Got to Charing Cross and pointed out the toilets in the hope that he would push off and I could make a swift escape to be met with the worst one yet “I’m not paying 30p for the toilet it’s a rip off” by this point I would have given him 30 quid just to get rid of him.

& I’m not sure what made me do it, whether it was the wine, the trainers,  the fact that I wanted to punch him so badly, the fact that he looked like he was Irish dancing due to the fact of needing the toilet so badly or what but I looked up at the train departures board; pretended to see my train, turned round and ran. Not sure who was more shocked, me or him, the last thing I heard was him yelling “where are you going babe?”. Flew through the barriers and up the platform and then burst out laughing.. I’d just ran away from my date.

 

So the moral of this story girls; if your dating history is as dire as mine, trainers are totally acceptable on first dates. These babes saved me from possibly the worst date of my entire life so from now on I’m dating in sneakers until I meet someone who convinces me I’m not going to need to run..

Peace, Love & False Lashes xo

 

Christian Grey is ruining my life

Okay so I’ve finally finished the 50 Shades Trilogy- I know it took me FOREVER and I’d love to say it’s because I have a life but no, it’s just because I wanted to wait until I had my kindle.

Yes it was just too embarrassing for me to allow my fellow commuters to see my reaction to the insane amount of kinky sex that Ana & C.G get up to (facial reaction before you all go getting ideas). Even reading it on my kindle, I have looked over my shoulder to a few guys who look like they’ve enjoyed a few too many big dinners in tightly packed suits raise a questionable eyebrow in my direction as if to say “oh yeaaaa”. *Slams kindle shut & smiles sweetly*

I’ve now even been told by mother that I need to “get a grip he’s not real”. What if I don’t want to, he could be real. And so what if he’s a bit screwed up and a complete control freak and I don’t even like to have my drink ordered without my say so. I’d put up with it for Christian fo sho!

Again with the falling for fictional characters, first Brad Pitt then Johnny Depp, then Channing Tatum, then Nate (Gossip Girl) okay so I have history with this kind of thing but this latest obsession is seriously affecting any chance I have of meeting a possible new beau- that doesn’t live on screen or on my kindle. God help the next poor guy that asks me out! With me expecting to be swept off my feet in a helicopter by some grey eyed god (in my head Ryan Reynolds is the epitome of Christian Greyness FYI). Whereas in reality I’m more likely to be picked up, taken for a Harvester, quick fumble in the car then home and they say romance isn’t dead…

Yes the private jet/ Charlie tango related scenario is rather far fetched but seriously guys… you need to up your game! Can you blame a girl for falling hopelessly in lust with C.G and for marriages to be wrecked left right and centre after the trilogy hit the shelves when guys these days say “swag” in every sentence still live at home, expect you to decide where and when you’re meeting up, can you pay? and yes that is his mums car he just picked you up in..  The definition of the words “Balling” or “Hustler” should be forever changed in the Dictionary to “lazy mummy’s boy- avoid like the plague”.

I think the most attractive thing about Christian is the drive and determination he possesses (as well as his expert sexual knowledge… I’m sure if he was to play with my nipples it wouldn’t feel like he was attempting to tune in Kiss FM)!  I almost wish I was born into a generation where social networks weren’t so influential on relationships, how many girls have I heard say “yea but are you Facebook official?” and even one saying her other half gave her his Facebook and Twitter passwords for Christmas… sorry what!!?

I do admit to checking out grey tie wearing, tall (obvs… baby giraffe legs going on here) and letting my imagination wander. I’m just wondering ladies, as I’ve been in a fair few relationships some good… some absolutely awful, but does that electricity actually exist or am I holding out for the impossible here?

Hopelessly seeking Mr Grey…

Peace Love & False Lashes

x

You know you love me xoxo

So I haven’t blogged in a while, new job and I literally haven’t stopped going on about it (soz). & in true Han style don’t do anything by halves, working 6 day weeks and still maintaining my very volatile relationship with Mr Pinot Grigio. I just never know where I stand with him, one minute he makes me the best dancer in the world and the next I’m in a heap of spaghetti legs handbag and hair (wearing flats) and of course no-one bats an eyelid. “Oh god is she ok” … everyone that knows me well knows when she head bobs it’s time to go home.  Often wake up feeling betrayed and then the fear creeps in… Do I dare check my phone or shall I just get someone to delete all evidence?! & do I even need to mention *untag untag untag*

I’m going off on one sorry! Still loving my job, not even going to whinge about the Olympic/train situation where men think it’s okay to hold your hand for balance and Japanese tourists get their arms stuck in doors (paha). Was kind of hoping working all the time would make my life less crazy, less worthy of my friends saying “so what have you got for us this week” .. You’ll all be happy to know I’m not capable of normal. 

Most of you know I have an obsessive personality for stupid things that are completely irrelevant eg. Clothes, shoes, can eat the same thing for months, watch the same films over and over again, fall for characters in books (Christian Grey) or beautiful men I’ll never meet (Brad Pitt) God help any of you that follow me on Instagram! But more recently I’ve noticed a disturbingly acute comparison between me & Serena from Gossip Girl. It started off as a joke between friends but now I’m starting to morph full scale into a fictional character and of course I have my Blair (Lou SJ). Yes Serena’s hot… really hot but that’s not what I’m referring to. It’s the full scale chaos she leaves in her wake, the obsession with fashion, the men, the drama and the distance between her and real life. Getting carried home by DJ’s, doing mud angels at festivals, getting thrown out of casino’s, losing my shoes, having to have my address written on my hand incase I forget, lift banter yada yada . If I had a £1 for every time someone said “you actually live on another planet”… gee thanks guys!

I seem to have some in built radar for attracting the wrong sorts of men, in my “be nice to everyone as it’s still kinda the Olympics mood “ I turned around when some guy came running up to me only for him to tell me I had a “lucky face”. What does that even mean? But apart from beardy weirdies I get them all, a la Serena, married men, brothers, stalkers, the intense marry me types, alcohol dependant hopeless romantics complete with candles and over the top gestures. I seem to attract short men by the bucket load as well, not that there’s anything wrong with guys slightly less endowed in the leg department but I’m nearly 5’8 and unless you want to kiss my chin when I’m wearing heels it’s just not viable.

Along with the mad family; there is literally no chance of normal or civilised, an auntie who bit my (now ex) boyfriend’s face before telling me “he’s a bit of alright”, my cousin who thinks its banter to sign up for clinical trials (that’s why we have two arms- one spare) and a grandma who loves the shock factor asking what spit roasting really means in the middle of a restaurant. But the family will need their own blog, trust me…

Until next time.

Peace Love & False Lashes x

Cringe City

Do you ever get the feeling that someone’s following you? Not in a creepy I’m going to kill you stalker-ish way but in a… can this seriously all happen to me in a few weeks kind of way without it being filmed for some sort of comedy show?

Who gets into a cab after a night out, bit worse for wear, bit emosh (you know how we girls do) when the cabbie decides to declare his undying love for you, offers you a holiday to Mauritius and a lifetime of happiness? Would have settled for cheesy chips to be honest mate.

I seem to attract and collect awkward situations and moments of sheer cringe like most girls collect shoes. This week I’ve started at a new job, where I spent the whole first day being taught how to use a ladder by a man with a walking stick and a lazy eye.  Shortly after I had to (using a prop) demonstrate how to pick up a heavy object whilst saying exactly what I was doing and why. Face-palm. Training was set out in what looked like an old classroom with encouraging words such as “be the best and a positive mental attitude can allow you to do anything” stuck on the walls, its safe to say I wanted to jab pens in my eyes just so I could escape. On the way out I had to collect my bag from security but no-one was there so thought I’d just give them a cheeky little ring as the number was stuck to the phone. Engaged. Out pops the security man 5mins later “you know you just rang yourself don’t you love & that’s why it’s engaged”. Awk.

Had to let the electrician change all the light bulbs at work as I’m clearly not capable and obviously the ladder could be an issue. Friendly guy bit of banter no problem. Just popped up to the stock room to grab the light bulbs (big long awkward ones) hand them to him and he starts stuttering and looking at the ceiling then at the floor and then blurts out “I’m getting married next month”. That’s great but not knowing this guy from Adam think its odd he’s just chucking random bits of his life story out there but okay. When he’s done & I’m signing his form I’m chatting away about work and he blurts out “my girlfriends pregnant”, at this point I’m thinking right you’re a bit odd now mate.  So let him out anyway look down & not one but three of my shirt buttons have popped off & breasts are waving. Right guessing he got seduction from that then. Jeez.

I could fill a book with stories of scaling letterboxes, singing karaoke and having the mic switched off half way through, asking women who aren’t actually pregnant when their baby’s due, dressing up provocatively to have someone’s dad wander in, going for a romantic walk through a field and getting chased by sheep, consistently waking up with a list of apologies after nights out and taking a quick nap mid way up a flight of stairs. I can literally sleep anywhere, it’s a skill.

I’m the kind of girl who will sit down on an empty train to have a man sit opposite me complete with oversized briefcase and paper, place his suitcase on my lap and proceed to read his paper. Sorry not sure when I adopted my table status? Or I’ll be taken to a partners work Christmas do, fall off my stiletto, head butt a lamppost and end up rolling into a busy dual carriageway. Face palm.

I don’t think the simple life actually exists and I don’t think I’m capable of being boring but just one week without drama and scandal would be amaze.

Yours sincerely, Trouble xo

Peace Love & False Lashes

x

No Cakes Before The States.

Christmas and New Years are well and truly over. You’re carrying an extra stone from all the food you’ve stuffed back over the festive season with the family not to mention those cheeky selection boxes. You’ve put on another half a stone due to excessive alcohol consumption due to having to spend at least a week holed up in the same house as the family playing endless games of monopoly and watching repeats of the Royle Family.

The future seems somewhat bleak and summer is no-where in sight. Time to book a holiday. Holidays as fabulous as they are, present so many problems. Check in at gate O.M.F.G

Those last few days before going away on holiday your bikinis manage to shrink, your boobs look smaller and no matter how many pre-holiday tans you have you still look slightly like an under-cooked chicken (really regretting all that christmas cake now). Packing is a complete nightmare, your fave shorts go missing, you realise you only have 9 bikinis to last you 7 days and you can’t exactly remember where you’ve put your passport. Even looking at that suitcase is prompting a wander to the kitchen to get a glass of vino.

The airport outfit is generally picked out a few days beforehand as it can’t be too try hard (heels are taking it too far) but sunglasses inside are completely acceptable as the airport is a portal to somewhere sunny.. technically you’re already on the holiday so what if its raining.

Check in, no sharp things in your hand luggage and all that malarky (what damage I could do with pink tweezers I don’t know). Once the heavily filled cases which were sat on to encourage them to close, filled with things you don’t need/ can’t fit into/ won’t wear, have been ditched it’s time to shop. Tax free style. Not before you go through security.. un-matching socks unleashed from the UGGS and on show due to strict airport security. Passport control is always a laugh, theres always a few minutes of looking at your own passport pic and trying to mimic the picture which is ridiculous as it’s a picture of you. Going well so far.

It’s like some sort of law that you must buy something on your way through the airport, you feel your hands reaching out involuntarily for a new perfume, a pair of half price sunnies, several books and a bag of those mini dime bars (only ever eat these on planes). You’ve saved at least £20 and even though you’ve now spent this on sunglasses you didn’t want or like your urge to buy stuff has been satisfied. Once you have your new purchases you now have an hour or two to sit & worry about the flight. Not that you’d admit this to anyone. Obvs. Once making sure you’ve been to the toilet at least three times, we’ve all heard of that person that got sucked out of the aeroplane toilet (not taking any chances here) its time to board.

Once on the plane, the safety demonstration has religiously been observed and the leg exercises to prevent deep vein thrombosis have been done so many times you even have a chance to look around to see if everyone else is doing it correctly. Fire exits have been identified and the plane has been scanned thoroughly for possible kamikazee passengers; must be nearly time for take off.

I love a holiday but the plane always presents me with a few problems apart from never being able to look at it the same after watching final destination:

• The air dries my skin out/ sucks my tan away on the return journey
• The meal would never get a thumbs up from Gordon or Jamie but could be your last so you should probs eat it
• I always manage to sit near the screaming child or the man that is unaware of his own snoring/unacceptable farting
• I seem to only travel with someone that sleeps for the entire flight or worries an equal amount about flying as me or gets so drunk we nearly get chucked off the flight/shot by armed guards- you know who you are

I’m a worrier by nature but there is something unnatural about being 20,000 ft in the air in a metal tube surrounded by very orange smiley people that would rival Clarins ladies who keep asking if you’re ok, even though you secretly admire the fact their orange lipstick never seems to come off. Must look into this long lasting magic lipstick.

But after the trauma of the airport and plane the holiday should be worth it. That’s if your suitcase doesn’t go walkies the other end and if Manwell doesn’t con you out of all your money for carrying your over stuffed suitcases to his death trap of a car…

Peace Love & False Lashes x

Good foundation is like the love of a good man; it should be cherished and enjoyed liberally

Right for those of you who are lucky enough to know me in person or follow my every move via Twitter @GlitzyDitzyHan you will know I am obsessed by make up. My love for that brown stuff in a glass container started at a young age and no I’m talking Nutella girls; I’m talking foundation.

Any form of anything that could make my skin look clearer, hotter, airbrushed or generally more like the girls in the movies then I am on it like a tramp on chips. Cucumber slices, fresh yoghurt, face creams, toothpaste, lotions, potions, Sudocrem you name it I’ve tried it.The way I see it is if you look good you tend to feel good so I tend to be happiest wearing a few coats of..

• M.A.C  pro longwear foundation (shade NC35)  or
•  Lancome teint renergie lift  R.A.R.E (shade 03 Beige Diaphane). Both give THE most amazing coverage and withstand weather, perspiration, the odd gentle outbreak of tears, yada yada you get the picture.

This is NOT what I look like when I wake up in the morning, this takes fake tan moisturizer false lashes and a hell of a lot of attention to detail when picking a foundation, this face would scare both animals and small children without all of the above

Anyhow when I found out I had won an annual subscription to @GlossyBoxUK thanks to @river_island I was beside myself… obvs! So amongst the oh em gee’s and shuuutuuups (yes I may have picked up some Essex terminology in my 5 months here) I managed to tell my other half what I had won! He was less than impressed and I could just see his face fall at the thought of more beauty products filling our already very full  dresser turning up each and every month without fail. So I felt it was only fair to share my GlossyBox love with you all.

Basically the dealio is you pay £10 a month and receive 5 deluxe beauty products completely at random to use and they all come in a beaut little box so it’s kind of like having a birthday every month.. fabulous huh? In this months haul I got:

• Clarins Extra-Firming Day cream
• Clarins Extra-Firming Night cream
• Eyeko Skinny Eye-liner
• Murad- Skin perfecting primer
• Fab- Body moisturizer

I know a lot of people would say girls shouldn’t wear lots of make up and natural beauty is the way forward and I do agree to a certain extent. As if you look like you have stuck your face in a cement mixer you should probably step away from the trowel, sorry foundation brush. But if using a new nail polish or eyeliner fills you with that warm buttery feeling that you just can’t get enough of (I took it too far with buttery didn’t I?) why not? I truly believe that there are many worse things you could obsess over and if a lip gloss makes you feel that damn good then why curb your cravings?

Cannot wait for the next installment of GlossyBox! Get yours here girls.. http://www.glossybox.co.uk

Peace Love & False Lashes x