Friday, 21 September 2012

Day 1 of the 30 Days of Art Challenge

Following on from my previous blog: '30 Day Art Journal Challenge'.

Here is the empty journal I selected for my challenge. I probably should have chosen a book with thicker pages as that would have stopped anything showing through onto the next page BUT I am a sucker for pretty things and birds, so this was perfect for me.

1.) Take a minute to connect with your feelings. Close your eyes. Imagine. Draw or paint them.

Right I will say it now, at school I was terrible at following instructions mainly because I don't read questions properly and in art I'd actually hate having set things to do because I always wanted to do my own thing. Sooo I have tried my very very hardest to stick to the tasks but as you may see, it doesn't always go according to plan.

This is what I have so far for my first task which is not yet finished and I will put up another post when it is complete.

What might immediately jump out at you is all the colours which might lead you to believe I was feeling happy when I created this, however that wasn't quite the case. As I was starting this page, I was having very mixed emotions about what was happening in my life, on one side (left) trying to portray the dark and upsetting feelings I was having at the time and on the other side (right), relief and happiness.

The left side holds various concepts in my mind which I'm going to try to explain without revealing too many details about my life.  As you can see, I have drawn the typical cliche of mountains. This was basically to resemble how getting through certain situations can make you feel like you are climbing a mountain. Difficult, time consuming, tiring, frustrating and more often than not, lost. On the other hand, as Michael Kennedy once said "I learn something every time I go into the mountains."
Which I certainly did. Ooo isn't it all part of life's rich tapestry. Even if it does make you feel like this:

The second part of the page I would like to dicuss is that if you look closely I have infact drawn a set of scales. This is what merges the two sides together. I made the left handside of the scales lower to symbolise my lower mood and the higher side resembles hope. I put a spiky object on the lower side to represent unpredictabilty, harshness and generally something that could hurt you. Such as stepping on a sea anenome. Not that I've ever done that, but I imagine it's rather painful, not to mention you don't expect it to happen so it catches you off-guard. Then the other side of the scale, I placed a non-descript vase. Something which represents to me something which you can't tell much about. It looks plain but unoffensive. Almost endearing to me. A generally much more pleasant appeal. 

Back to the left side, surrounding what I shall call 'the sea anenome'. I have drawn spirals, much like those charity tubs where you put a coin in and it goes round and round and round and then drops in the bottom where as a child, I couldn't help thinking it was so much fun putting the coins in to see them spin but your always left with the feeling that it was short lived so you feel the need to do it again and yet end up with exactly the same feeling. I don't recall thinking oh good I've helped a charity, as opposed to 'what was the point in that?'. I'm not going to lie, I still wanted to keep putting more coins in to see it happen all over again even though I already knew exactly what was going to happen and much to my own dismay, I haven't changed much since. As well as this, the spiral pattern around 'the sea anenome' is meant to show my confusion about my feelings at the time.

Then coming to the bottom of the left side of the page, the cob webs. This is actually a Zentangle pattern called Hekzee by Linda Farmer. You can learn to draw it using this link -

 I used this to show the past, so as you go up the page on the left hand side you go from, past to present to future. (cob webs to confusion to mountains)

Moving onto the right handside, it is a lot less complicated in theory compared to the amount of time it took to do it which was a long time. Again I have used many different Zentangle patterns here, to show variety and how my thoughts were in several different places at once. Some are more complicated than others, some are very simple. I've used Bandola, Basketweave, Bateek, Baton, Beadlines, Beelight and Bowties. (Links at the bottom)
So that is my first attempt at the '30 Day Art Journal Challenge'. When this page is finished I will put it up as soon as possible!

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it in some way.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

The 30 Day Art Journal

Having been inspired by my friend, I have decided I am going to do some blogging on my artwork, knitting and my modelling.

First of all, It was recently my 22nd birthday. For my birthday, this particular friend gave me, what I thought was one of the most thoughtful and creative presents I could ever be given. She is a wonderful artist and we both share a love of art but I frequently lack motivation to get myself to do it. We have both had experiences with Depression and previously she had been telling me about how calming it can be to just put your feelings onto a page and use your imagination to create new things. I believe she called it 'Art Therapy'.

Anyway, as a birthday present she made a very impressive card for me. It wasn't any ordinary card. The front is an absolute stunning piece of work she had created using Zentangle Patterns. She first introduced me to Zentangle patterns and since then I have absolutely adored them. I love the intricacy and concentration that has to go into them.

Here is a picture of the front of the card:


Then aside from the lovely message on the inside she had made a '30 Day Art Journal Challenge'.

Fill a page a day.

1.) Take a minute to connect with your feelings. Close your eyes. Imagine. Draw or paint them.
2.) Doodle until  you fill an entire page.
3) Pick an object in your house. While looking only at the object put your pen to paper and draw it without picking up your pen. Colour in your crazy art.
4) Find a beautiful picture in a magazine cut it out and make that the centre of your art journal page.
5) Imagine your inner critic as a monster. Draw or paint that monster.
6) Pick a quote and design an art journal page around it.
7) Write down five of your core beliefs. Pick one and illustrate it.
8) What is your favourite fairy tale? Draw or paint your favourite scene.
9) Think about someone who inspires you. Use the person's characteristics to inspire your journal page.
10) Live in the moment. Journal about whatever is on your mind.
11) Construct a Journal page around the last time that you travelled.
12) Grab some junk mail and use it as the background of your page. Colour over it.
13) Write down 10 things that you are grateful for and use them to inspire your Journal Page.
14) Pick a lyric from one of your favourite song and illustrate it.
15) Find a poem and let it inspire your Journal Page.
16) Pretend you are a goddess. Draw her.
17) Illustrate your favourite moment from the last week.
18) Write a compliment to yourself for a recent accomplishment. Centre a Journal page around it.
19) Draw yourself in a beautiful ball gown.
20) Journal about things that you think are lovely.
21) Think about something in your everday life that you take for granted and devote your art journal page to it.
22) Paint or illustrate how you feel when you're at your favourite place.
23) Draw a large heart in the middle of the page and fill it with things that make your heart smile.
24) Think back to your favourite childhood memory and use it to inspire your Journal page.
25) Journal about peace and harmony.
26) Use glue to stick book pages to your Journal page and use as a background then draw and paint on top of them.
27) Pick three colours. Draw an animal using a pen and then use only those three colours to fill it in.
28) Draw a staircase and think about your biggest dream. Draw it at the top of the staircase and then fill in each step with goals to make it reality.
29) Journal about hopes. (I totally read her writing as Herpes hahaha)
30) Journal about things that make you laugh out loud.

 Therefore, prepare to see a mixture of crap art and reasonable art with a healthy dish of criticism towards all my own work. Hmmm maybe that is defeating the point of this challenge. Well I hope you enjoy!!

Sunday, 5 February 2012

The Rhino, The Quicksand and The Badger - Part three.

It was the beginning of July 2010 that we started our next placement. I was assigned to be with a Health Visitor for 8 weeks. Nursing students do not get typical student holidays, our course is more like a job except you are being paid much less than everyone else. I phoned in before we were due to start as to find out who my mentor was and what hours I would be doing. I found out that my mentor was on holiday in the Dominican Republic for a couple of weeks. Well that was another great start to a placement, my first two mentors were part time so I barely saw them and now this mentor was on holiday. How well organised of her. I was feeling very anxious and fragile about starting this placement, it was in an area I didn't know very well and technically not the most pleasant of neighbourhoods. In fact, Raoul Moat was from around there. (I don't want to mention the name as Nursing Students can get in trouble for that sort of thing.) However, this wasn't my main concern, what really bothered me was getting there. The most anxious part of the day for me is getting ready to leave the house and actually getting to the placement. Fortunately, on this placement I was not doing Long Days but 9-5.

The other Health Visitors decided to change my mentor to someone else, she was very friendly and kind. Just after a couple of house visits and driving around with her, made me realise what an understanding and caring person she was. I felt like I had an adopted mother at work. She was amazingly calm and approachable so about two days into working with her, I told her I had depression. I felt I needed to tell her because I had only been put on Fluoxetine (prosac) recently and it usually takes at least about a month to start noticing a difference in your mood. Personally, I didn't react well to Fluoxetine. The side effects I got from taking them, I would say made me feel worse. Everyone reacts differently to different drugs but prosac just wasn't for me. Previously, I had had problems with excess sleeping and wanted to sleep all the time, now that I was on prosac I was waking up very early, I was restless and fidgety. As well as this, my appetite decreased significantly, I wasn't interested in food at all. I remember my mum putting a roast dinner in front of me, I felt like it was so much effort to even pick up the fork but I had one mouthful and couldn't be bothered. I felt repulsed by food which was incredibly out of the ordinary for me.

I had always had a problem with my self esteem but it plummeted while I was depressed. I found a part of me being pleased that my appetite had decreased as I wanted to lose weight. There were many times where I didn't want to look in the mirror because I found myself repulsive, I wouldn't look in the mirror while getting dressed and I began wearing my baggy hoody and jeans all the time. Ideally I should have washed that hoody more than I did but I didn't care at the time. I took no pride in my appearance if I knew I could avoid it. I would only make an effort if I knew photos would be taken as I cared so much more for what other people thought than what I thought of myself. I knew it wasn't healthy but I didn't really care, eating was too much effort and my anxiety was making me feel sick which made eating even more offputting so it didn't bother me if I lost weight. I would eat when I felt I could but would never force myself. I couldn't cook for myself anymore, I had difficulty making decisions so I wouldn't be able to choose what to cook even if I did have the energy. 

Anyway, on placement when I wasn't distracted by doing visits, I would sit in the office at lunch. My hands would be shaking and clammy, my heart would be racing and I felt like I was constantly trying to fight off a panic attack. There were quite a few days where my mentor would just let me go home as I clearly wasn't fit to be in the workplace. During visits, sitting and staring into space became very difficult not to do. I didn't want to look rude but I couldn't concentrate, so trying to care about other peoples problems and listen to them effectively, trying to give others support was hard. Luckily most of the time people would just need someone to listen to them this is where my non-verbal skills came in so useful, managing to nod my head, holding a hand, facial expressions served me very well during this time. I would have bad days and very bad days. I didn't really have good days at that point. I found it difficult to laugh at jokes, I would pretend out of politeness where I could.

This is an insert from my diary around that time. I have taken certain sentences out as I feel they are too personal to me to reveal but I hope this can give you an insight as to how I was feeling.

4th June 2010

"It's a sunny day which I would usually relish. It's difficult to write this and hard to concentrate. It's beautiful but I don't care. I feel grey, blue, whatever you want to call it. I'm not myself. I should be doing something fun but I'm not. Relaxing in the sun is one of my favourite things to do but it's not enough to make me happy now. Everything seems hopeless, pointless. It comes and goes in severity but never completely leaves. Things I know I would usually love or cheer me up seem worthless and irrelevant. I know their not but I have no joy from them anymore...These past two days  I've been becoming quieter, it's becoming harder not to stare into space and harder to get words out. "


 There was a time when I couldn't remember who I was, I hadn't forgotten any memories I had or what my name was but I couldn't remember what it was like to be myself. My behaviour when depressed was so unlike my true happy self and I was genuinely worried I would never remember that. My friends and family told me everyday that it would get better eventually and all I could do was hope they were right because I really didn't believe them.
I returned to my GP to have a medication assessment, I told him what had been happening and he changed my medication to Citalopram. It has worked incredibly well for me, just like with prosac, it takes a while for you to notice a change in your mood. He wasn't the most understanding doctor and I'd say he is probably just a bit quirky. Not all doctors will understand how you are feeling but most will do what they can to help you. You shouldn't let one bad experience put you off seeking help even if you feel like you've been slapped in the face, I changed my GP during this time because of this and She has been incredibly supportive and caring about my well being. This wasn't the end of my experience with depression and I'm sure it will have to deal with it throughout my life but I started to finally feel better. There was a light at the end of the tunnel which I found impossible to see before then.

Please feel free to comment and/or ask questions. I have been touched by the responses I have had from people who have read The Rhino, The Quicksand and The Badger so far. Thank you for reading!

Saturday, 4 February 2012

The Rhino, The Quicksand and The Badger - Continued.

So as I mentioned last time, I hadn't told anyone how I had been feeling. The day I told my mum, I hadn't planned on telling her. I went to my parents house and sat down in the kitchen. I was noticeably quiet and not myself usual smiley self. 
This is a picture of me trying to cover up my insecurities and pretending things are okay. I found it difficult to come out of my shell but my friends (especially Sophie at this particular party, was the most helpful person. Having experienced depression herself and known me since birth, she knows just how my mind works and just how to make me forget how I'm feeling. Even if it is just temporary, I can be in an imaginery happy world for a bit and almost feel normal.)
Me, typically happy and smiling. 

She asked me how I was and I just started crying. She hugged me and immediately went into caring mumsy mode and did what she knew she could do, use her skills as a GP to try to help. She asked me if I would be willing to answer some questions from a typical depression assessing tool called a PHQ-9 (Patient health Questionnaire). It was the first time I had ever done one and little did I know that I would be doing this questionnaire hundreds of times in the months to come. 
It is scored out of 27 and it gives a guideline to what severity of depression you may be experiencing.
0 – 4
5 – 9
Watchful waiting; repeat PHQ-9 at follow-up
10 – 14
Treatment plan, considering counselling, follow-up and/or pharmacotherapy
15 – 19
Moderately Severe
Immediate initiation of pharmacotherapy and/or psychotherapy
20 – 27
Immediate initiation of pharmacotherapy and, if severe impairment or poor response to therapy, expedited referral to a mental health specialist for psychotherapy and/or collaborative management.

I scored 24. I can't describe what my mum was feeling, all I know is what she has told me and that is that she felt guilty she hadn't noticed earlier. The thing was, I hid it. I tried to act as normally as possible in front of people because it was not only embarassing but I was afraid that people wouldn't take me seriously.  Despite the fact that I know all my family and friends are very caring, both my parents are GP's and I know they wouldn't brush it off. But at the time, I was thinking negatively about everything. I was self-conscious, paranoid and I thought everything was pointless.

I even managed to acquire a job at wetherspoons when I was feeling that bad. The morning of my interview I collapsed on my bedroom floor and cried. I knew it wasn't normal. I was so fed up with life and I knew I didn't want to die but part of me really did want to give up. I was so anxious that I was shaking. I get anxiety not just when it would be normal to have anxiety like when I was due to have an interview, but also randomly and unexpectedly. I have been advised since then to tell people when I am feeling anxious as keeping it to myself can only make it worse. When I do tell people, they always seem to ask the same question "Why?".

I would like to make this very clear, being anxious and being nervous are not the same thing. They feel very similar but they are called different things for a reason. Anxiety is fear of the unknown. Usually when you are nervous it is because there is something to be nervous about. When I feel anxious, it can come from anywhere, I could be sitting in my flat, completely comfortable and I will get this horrific feeling like there is a Rhino running towards you. Impending doom. Anyway, I managed to make myself look presentable and just went in thinking I had nothing to lose. 

My mum arranged an appointment for me to see my GP, at this point I was struggling to come to terms with how I was feeling. I felt confused and my brain just felt fuzzy. I couldn't concentrate on simple things like reading or even watching TV. I constantly had thoughts whirling around my head, I didn't want to accept that I had a mental illness. I thought I was being dramatic and over reacting. I was overly sensitive with regards to anything people would say, If they mentioned anything about me I would take it the wrong way. I didn't do it deliberately, I just thought people were judging me when really it was me thinking in a negative light. 
My GP started me on an antidepressant called Fluoxetine which is Prosac. Many people are against using antidepressants as they don't like the idea of messing with their brain chemistry and that they will become dependant on them. I, on the other hand really felt like I needed them. People say you should concentrate on what has caused the problem and find a solution to why you may be feeling that way. I do agree that medication is not the be all and end all, as I have had counselling too. However, at my worst I could barely talk, it took a huge amount of effort to even say one word answers. So using an antidepressant was important for me at the time to at least make my brain wake up a bit so that I could be more responsive. There's no point trying to have counselling or people asking you questions about how you feel when one of the problems is actually expressing yourself. 

Around the same time that this was happening, I was meant to be attending lectures at university with an exam approaching. My closest friend at university - Joanna, had started to notice that things weren't right but sadly her Nana was very ill around this time and was spending more time at home in the Midlands. I felt very guilty that I wasn't supporting her in a way that I usually would for a friend in a time of need but I was so consumed by my depression that I was barely able to look after myself let alone other people. When I was in lectures I would avoid speaking where I could and if people talked to me I would pretend nothing was wrong. It was very difficult to cover up and I was surprised no one actually mentioned anything sooner, not that I wanted them to. I wasn't that close to the people in my group at that point that I felt I could tell them my problems, I didn't even want to talk to any of my closest friends about it at first. I was missing time off university as I felt too tired to go in, my motivation was very low and even when I was in lectures I couldn't concentrate. I could spend a whole lecture just sitting wallowing in my feelings, unhelpful and negative feelings. 

Joanna told me that her Nana passed away and that she would be going to the funeral over the weekend before the exam. I realised that it was a very stressful and understandably sad time for her so I didn't want to load her with my sad feelings too. I thought it would be inappropriate to tell her how I was feeling when I felt that she had something to be genuinely sad about. When she came back up she visited me at my parents house, I think by this point she was aware something wasn't right as I had been spending more time there and well, I looked like shit. She came into the living room and my mum told her what had been happening, it was at this point that we really bonded as friends. We decided we would go through this tough time for both of us together. 

The day of the exam came and we went to the university office early to hand in a PECs (Personal extenuating circumstances) form each. It was important for us to do this as neither of us had efficiently revised for this exam and we weren't mentally fit for an accurate result. When handing in a PECs form, you must provide evidence of why your situation will effect your marks. I took in a photocopy of my medication and a doctors note and the university made joanna bring in a copy of the funeral program which they needed to photocopy. We looked like a pair of sad messes, Joanna being understandly upset and me looking like a zombie. When we went into the exam, we sat in our places and stared into space for a while. When it began I couldn't really concentrate and felt like everything I was writing was utter jibberish. After that we had a week or two off until we were back at university. I don't really remember what I did during those weeks so I can only try to look back in my diary to see. 

This blog will continue at a later date. Please feel free to write comments and/or ask questions.

Friday, 3 February 2012

The Rhino, The Quicksand and The Badger.

AHHAAA fuck you Librarians, you aren't getting £350 out of me! I forgot to return my 7 library books for like 6 months and I suddenly got a final notice demanding 350 squids off me. I certainly don't have enough money to pay that shit. Anyway I returned the books today and it has been reduced to £70, still not good but Imma gon' get a doctors note as I have a deficient brain which can't produce enough of my happy hormone called seratonin.

I decided to write about my experiences as a nursing student and my history of depression and as it's something which is still such a taboo subject to talk about and it really shouldn't be. Ever heard of the expression - 'Dying of embarassment'? Well obviously you will have done. In this case, people are killing themselves out of embarrassment of their behaviour and emotions. Depression is one of the most common illnesses in society today and yet the general public seem to know barely anything about it. I learnt about Depression in Psychology at A-Level but I never gave it a second thought once I left the classroom. I was just aware that if you had certain amount of pressures and 'stressors' in your life, which was too much for you individually then there was a risk you could feel depressed. I didn't realise the extent to which it could affect your life and others around you. As a Nursing Student I was going to learn more about it on my course but unfortunately I also learnt the hard way too.

 I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Recurrent Depression in May 2010. As far as I am aware, I have experienced symptoms of depression since I was 16 but always put it down to being a hormonal teenager up until about December 2009 when it increased in severity. Before I was diagnosed I was very sceptical about those with Depression, I knew nothing about it really. I thought they were people being overly dramatic about their problems and I never felt very sympathetic towards them beforehand. NHS statistics show that about six million people in the UK suffer from an anxiety disorder and/or depression. There was nothing significantly wrong with my life which is what confused me the most when I realised what was going on. I didn't understand why I was feeling like I was when I had nothing to be sad about. I now know that depression is a very complex illness and it is never straight forward. It can be caused by numerous amounts of things whether it be a chemical imbalance in your brain or a build up of stress or even by a severe illness such as food poisoning.
My memory is pretty hazy about when my depression increased in severity. I was in my first year of university living in student accommodation with two girls at the same university as me. We hadn't known each other before we had moved in together and to an extent I wish I had been closer to them. I've always liked my own space at home, a place to get away and do what I want. Even when I lived with my parents I would stay in my room for hours on end just entertaining myself in front of the computer, playing games or surfing the Internet. There would be times where I could spend over 12 hours without moving (unless to go to the toilet, that would be gross.) but that was just normal for me, though it does seem preeetty unhealthy. My dad nicknamed me 'The Badger' as I would only leave my sett to retrieve food etc. So basically as I had moved out of my parents house, it became much easier to 'badger' and do what I wanted, eat what I wanted and generally be a lazy get.

 It was in December 2009 when I was so lucky to get Herpes Stomatitis aka Cold sores of the mouth. I'd never had them before and reacted horrifically. I had them all over my lips, inside my mouth, under my tongue and down my throat. As my friends so kindly put, I looked like a walking STD. I couldn't eat for a week as it was so painful and I retreated back to my parents' house for some TLC. Looking on the bright side, I lost weight just before Christmas. SCORE! Then the following February in half term, I got Campylobacter - food poisoning. Another fantastic couple of weeks of my life. I managed about 4 days on my own before I phoned my mum crying because I was too weak to open a bottle of lemonade which would have been my only source of calories. I kept fainting every time I was walking back up the stairs from the toilet and decided to just crawl up them in future. So that was really fun, and I lost half a stone in just under two weeks. Though that was probably me being dehydrated and considering the amount I usually eat, suddenly eating nothing for a week was rather uncomfortable. In fact, I probably got the food poisoning from a Chinese take away I had ordered. Anyway, so those two illnesses in close proximity were enough to make me feel rather shit.

 Then in March, I started a placement in a hospital for my course on Adult Respiratory. The ward was full of people dying of various chest infections, cystic fibrosis and COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) most commonly caused by smoking, though not always. It was a shock to me. On my first placement I was pretty much just observing and following different nurses around everyday. Whereas this one was my first time to really get involved and nearly every patient was on oxygen therapy.

 It was tiring, physically and emotionally for me. I was doing Long Days (12 and a half hour shifts, 3 days of the week) but on top of that I was waking up at 5.30 as I had to walk 30minutes every morning and evening to get there and back. It was the most awkward place to get to from where I lived, no buses or metros directly there and as a student I thought getting a taxi was too expensive. 
This ward was the first time I ever saw a dead person, people I had been looking after and the first time I had ever done 'Last Offices' - this is where you have to prepare the body for the mortuary. At 18 years old, it all seemed a lot to take in. It's no wonder a quarter of all nursing students drop out. 

That placement tired me out, on the days I was working I didn't have any time to myself other than those horrible cold, dark walks to and back from the hospital. When I got home I just needed to sleep, except thoughts of the ward would be running through my head all night. I would dread going to bed because I knew that I'd be having to get up at 5.30 and I did find it incredibly difficult. Any of my days off were spent sleeping in and trying to relax, my desk chair wasn't really comfortable so I would lie in bed all day with my laptop 'badgering'. I found it harder and harder to control my diet, I felt the need to indulge myself all the time and found myself comfort eating all the time. Eating whole packets of chicken nuggets in one go, ordering pizzas and take aways all the time. Rarely cooking for myself and I was neglecting my appearance too. I wasn't leaving my room so I never felt the need to get dressed or put on some make up. I found it difficult to motivate myself to even have a shower. It was shortly after this placement when this behaviour continued and I was staying in bed from evening to evening that I realised I needed to do something about it.
This is when I decided to tell my mum how I had been feeling. I hadn't told anyone before then.

This will be continued at a later date. Please feel free to post comments and questions.

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

My Tropical Fish

So I missed my hairdressing consultation. I decided to press snooze too many times and then take too long to do my make up and had to ring to change the appointment for tomorrow otherwise I wasn't going to make it. WOOPS. 

Cardinal Tetras
For a couple of weeks now, I've been wanting to get some new tropical fish to fill up my tank a bit more. I started off with some hardy little guys called Cardinal tetras and some Bloodfin tetras. 
Bloodfin Tetras

One of my Bloodfins only has one eye so I have named him Cyclops, I would name the rest of them but I can't really tell them apart. I got 5 of each type of fish but unfortunately one of the Cardinals was eaten by the rest of them while I was in bed. So yesterday I went on a whirlwind adventure to Petsathome to get some more fishieees. So I now have a Golden Gourami, a Opaline Gourami, x3 Rosy Barbs and a Bristlenose Plecostomus. I am going to start trying to think of some names for them. 
This is what they are meant to look like -

Golden Gourami
Opaline Gourami
Bristlenose Pleco.

Rosy Barb.
All of this new fish I have bought can grow to 6" apart from the Rosy Barbs which only grow to about 2.5". At the moment my Gourami's are about 3 inches long, my Plec is probably only 1.5" and my Rosy Barbs all look pretty much fully grown. Love my new additions, I think they are all beautiful, I should probably get some more plants as they will probably feel more comfortable then which makes their colours more vibrant. Here's some pictures of my new fishies. 
This is my Golden Gourami with one of the rosy barbs in the background and some bloodfins. I think I will call her Marilyn after Marilyn Monroe. 

Unfortunately, I'm shit at taking photos of fish as they never stay still so I'll have to try again today to get some more photos. I'd quite like some purple and more blue fish. The hunt will now begin! I'm always on a search for new things which will make me happier. Keeping tropical fish is very relaxing to watch and I don't really find it that much hard work, just changing about 10-15% of the water every week and my Pleco should help control the algae. Love my fishies. 

Tuesday, 31 January 2012

I Don't Feel Like Sleeping.

Mia is my beautiful little ginger snap biscuit. My sweet pumpkin pie. My little baybee. (Yes, I deliberately spelt it like that.) She is currently nuzzling my laptop, probably just stealing my warmth and attempting to wage some food out of me. It's 2.38am, I don't think so Mia. Mia's favourite past times are sleeping, eating, sleeping, sleeping, being scared, whinging if she is picked up, sleeping, eating, watching the Cat T.V (My Tropical Fish Tank), hiding in various places around the flat and being determined to get into all cupboards possible including the one which leads under the floorboards. Troublesome kitty.

You may wonder why I am writing a blog at this hour but it's because I don't want to sleep. I have to be up by 9am for a hairdressers appointment. I'm going back to Brunette from Black. It's spring and I hope to be lighter for the Summer. I am also going to continue my god damn diet if it kills me. I took a break from it for a week while Bread Babies was here as we like to pretend to live in luxury and home comforts. Therefore eating elaborate meals and spending far beyond our means is a typical trait between both of us. Just like how we both want long, glossy, silky hair as it used to be - 

  Unfortunately we both decided to bleach our hair within an inch of it's like until we both had gingery/yellow hair which dried our hair out like straw.
I never really enjoyed being blonde as much as I did brunette. I felt very much like I was attracting the wrong kind of attention from men and I felt like I couldn't wear the usual slutty tight outfits that I usually like to wear as I felt even more whorish. I never felt whorish with dark brown hair, just like a sexual predator. I felt less tacky with brown hair than blonde and that's why I experimented with going darkeerrr.  Though I now can't be arsed to keep doing my roots and if I don't do them then it looks like I have greyish brown hair underneath. So back to brunette I go and I'm hoping to eventually have long brown flowing hair with some high lights. I feel like I should try to look more classy or a bit more natural. Which sounds retarded considering I'm dyeing my hair.  Either way I want to slowly try and get hair like this -                                                                                       

I'm so going to regret staying up when I hear my alarm later. Ohhhh dear.