Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part Four

Dear Emma,

I’m not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I’m going to run with it for now :S

Today’s prompt was suggested by Ayay, and she said, “Dystopian in which the world has been crippled by war and pollution and a small group of people have found refuge in a valley in the highlands. One of few places not destroyed. (Maybe animals have mutated into horrific creatures which are attacking the village)”


I was woken up by the sound of a familiar-sounding screaming in the distance. Sitting bolt upright, I looked out of the window to see the same rolling hills and verdant valleys I was used to seeing, yet something seemed wrong. I threw back the covers and ran to the window, peering out through the empty frame to try to find the source of the screaming.

I had stuck my head so far out of the ground floor window that the sharp tap on my back made me wobble violently, so when I turned around to see my little sister standing there, I yelled, “What were you doing? I could have fallen out of the window!” I watched as she seemed to be fighting a battle between giggling and common sense. But then her face paled as she seemed to be remembering the reason she had for unceremoniously entering my room early in the morning.

“You need to see this,” she said, walking out of the room and towards the front door. I quickly followed, realising that my sister is seldom this serious, and that the screaming that rudely awoke me and her strange mood were probably somehow connected.

She stopped in front of the door and just pointed.

“What is it, Gem?” I asked, but she just ran back in the direction of her room, leaving me to wonder what had got her so spooked.

A sense of nervous tension building in my stomach, I opened the door, and instantly wished I hadn’t. I also simultaneously realised that my window faced east, but the front door faced west. Which would explain why I hadn’t seen the huge mutant spiders climbing over the valley through the fields towards the village.

Now, I’m not normally scared of house spiders, or those weird spindly spiders that you can’t really see and then almost step on at the worst moment, but these were another story. Even from a good few hundred metres away, the arachnids were so unbelievably enormous that you could see each individual coarse black hair on their thick, almost muscular legs. Beads of venom pooled around their gigantic fangs, and each beady eye stuck up like a marble on their heads.

I’m not sure how many people in our village realised what was going on, but those spiders were going to wreak some serious havoc if they reached the village, and we didn’t have much farmland to begin with.

Instinctively I began to run around to the back of the house, until I realised I was still wearing the thin gown I slept in – clothes were a valuable commodity nowadays, especially since most of our sheep were wiped out last year. I went back through the front door, sprinting to my room and pulling on whatever was nearest, but making sure to grab my shoes, because now was not the time for having any part of my body exposed.

I went to the shed where my father kept his farming tools – these days, everyone’s a farmer of some kind, otherwise the entire village would go hungry – and grabbed whatever I could, running through the village towards the beasts.


I could have written a lot more about this story, but then it would be ridiculously long.

Would you have done what Sam did? Are you afraid of spiders?

Love from,



Inadequacy and My New Year’s Blogging Goals!

Dear Emma,

Lately I’ve been feeling dissatisfied with my blog, and… Oh I’m just going to say it, a little jealous of all the amazing incredible people that occupy this community.

You are all fantastic, and your blogs are too, and I’ve just been feeling a little bit inadequate. What is it that I’m doing wrong?

Sometimes I feel like I’m not original enough, or creative enough, especially compared to all of you, and you deserve all the success you’re getting. I just wish I had that too.

But I didn’t write this post to throw myself a pity party: that happened on Saturday, and I’d like to thank Elm and my friends Penguin and Llama for making me feel better about myself.

No, I’m writing this post because I’ve decided something. It’s New Year’s Eve, and although I don’t normally believe in all this “new year, new me” stuff, this year I’m going to make an effort to improve my blog.

Because there’s literally no point sitting around feeling sorry for myself when I have the opportunity to change it.

So along with my real-life New Year’s resolutions, I’m making some blogging ones too, and I know this sounds incredibly selfish, but I’ve set a goal of 250 followers by the end of 2016. If I reached that I think I would explode from happiness.

I’m going to share my blogging goals on here because I want you all to know that I’m going to try to make it better, but also so you can nag me if I don’t stick to them!

  1. Drop my schedule. Now don’t panic, this doesn’t mean I won’t be posting as often. In fact, it means the exact opposite. I’ve come to realise that, a lot of the time, when I think of an idea for a blog post I usually dismiss it because it’s not Sunday, and then sometimes that leads to me posting random things because I’ve forgotten what I want. So from now on I’ll be posting every Thursday and Sunday, but also whenever I feel I want to. And my posts will all be in the evening, like they normally are.
  2. Make an effort to connect with the community. This is a big one, because I don’t feel like I follow enough blogs or read and comment on the blogs I do follow. So if you follow me and you think I should be following you (which I probably should) leave a link to your blog in the comments. And I want to help out people who are new to the community, because I am so grateful to everyone who helped me.
  3. Reply to every comment on my blog. I don’t get comments that often, but sometimes I just forget to reply, which I know is terrible. So from now on I’m going to reply to every comment on my blog.
  4. Try to do different kinds of posts. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while, posts like favourites, advice, Q&As, and anything else you suggest, along with my normal posts and my creative writing. What do you think?
  5. Do EVERY award I get nominated for. I’m going to make a list whenever I get nominated so I don’t forget.
  6. Be more inspirational. I don’t feel like I’m giving my readers anything from reading my posts, so from now on I’m attempting to inspire and improve your lives, even if it’s just a tiny bit.

So these are my goals for 2016, and I really want to achieve them all, because I feel like I can.

Hope you have a Happy New Year! 🙂

Love from,






Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part Three

Dear Emma,

Today’s prompt was suggested by The Wandering Girl or littlegingee and she said, “Your character wakes up on stage with no idea who they are or what they are doing. There is a huge audience. The show must go on.”


“Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,”

A mirror. I’m sat in a chair, facing a large mirror with the soft glow of multi-coloured fairy lights illuminating my face in the otherwise darkened room. I look at my skin, wondering when it was I put on glitter eyeshadow, three layers of foundation and soft rose lipstick. My hair is cascading down my back in gentle golden waves, and a soft flower headband pulls it back to expose my whole face. Lifting up one hand, I realise I am wearing a soft white satin dress with beautiful gold patterns, and a white and gold mask sits on the dressing table.

“Sam!” calls a voice from the door, “Why is it so dark in here?” The person flips a switch and instantly the room is bathed in light. The room I now recognise as a dressing room. Is he talking to me? My name isn’t Sam, it’s…

I can’t remember my name. I don’t know my own name. Oh, God.

“Sam, we have to go! We’re on in five minutes!” I turn around to see a boy with chestnut brown hair wearing an old fashioned waistcoat and trousers reaching for my hand.

I look at him, and he seems to register the complete confusion and terror in my eyes because he smiles, and says, “It’s okay. You know what you’re doing, and this is your night. You’re my Juliet,” he says, and then laughs and gestures to my dress, “Literally.”

Juliet. Suddenly everything begins to fall into place. I’m in a theatre, I realise, I’m Juliet.

And I’m supposed to go on a stage in five minutes.

I look at him, and desperately try to say, “I don’t, I don’t know y-”

“Come on,” he says, lacing his fingers through mine and pulling me up out of the chair. “We have to go, Miss Dawson’s going to go insane if we’re not backstage soon.” He picks up the mask from the table and hands it to me.

As we hurry through the corridors, my mind races, trying to figure out where I am, but more importantly, who I am. I don’t understand, I remember everything to do with how to move and talk and knowledge, but I don’t remember anything else. I realise I’m supposed to know that my name is apparently Sam and I’m supposed to know who it is dragging me by the hand through several long corridors, although without him I would be totally lost, so I’m at least grateful for that.

But that was the least of my worries. We reach a large room, completely wall-to-wall black, and I realise that the only thing I can hear is the clear booming voice of a monologue on the stage. Everyone in the wings is perfectly silent, and although to the uninitiated it may seem like the performers are doing that out of courtesy to the audience, it is probably more likely that they’re doing it to avoid death glares from the woman holding the clipboard a few feet away. “There you are!” she hisses as soon as she spots us, grabbing the boy I know only as Romeo and shoving him into the wings. “Your first scene is now!”

I watch him leave, and instantly begin to panic as the only person who has shown me any kindness is swallowed up by the performance. Turning around, I spot the door we first came through and rush towards it, anything to get out of this nightmare.

“Oh no you don’t,” says the woman, making me freeze in my tracks. “I know, everyone gets stage-fright, but you have no choice. The show must go on, as they say. Your first scene is in a minute too.”

Oh God. What do I do? I can’t do this.

This isn’t stage fright, it’s more than terror or panic. My entire world has been turned upside down because I don’t know who or where I am, and suddenly I have to perform something I’ve never seen in my entire life.

But as they say, the show must go on.

“Do you have a script?” I desperately ask a woman passing by with a radio headset. Handing it to me, she rolls her eyes and says, “Really, Samantha, it’s opening night. Shouldn’t you be off-script by now?” She smiles at her joke and continues walking purposefully around the back of the stage: I am still scriptless.

I can’t do this. I don’t know what I’m doing.

“Good luck Sam!” calls a girl with beautiful wavy hair from a black box in the wings. “Don’t forget your mask!”

In a panic I seize it from the table and hold it up to my face.

And suddenly it’s time to go. The scary woman gestures towards the stage, and I walk out. I seem to be at the top of a staircase, and I can see him at the bottom. I hear him say,

“What lady is that, which doth
enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?”

And I realise I’m supposed to be walking down the stairs. I meet his eyes through our masks, but I can’t. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I am.

My breathing begins to increase rapidly, and suddenly the staircase seems a mile high. I can see him reach out to catch me, shouting, “Juliet!” But it’s no use.

I feel the sharp pain of the staircase against my shoulders as everything fades to black.


I’m not sure about the slightly cliche ending, but what do you think? What would you do in Sam’s position? Freak out? Run? Or own it?

I’m still looking for more prompts for the rest of the week, so if you can think of any that would be great!

I hope you enjoyed 🙂

Love from,


Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part Two

Dear Emma,

It’s Part Two! I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger I left this on, but if I was actually writing a novel about this I hadn’t actually decided which outcome I would write.

Today’s prompt was suggested by AKA The Author, and she said, “Your character is born into a society where only 1 person from each family can succeed. Because of this parents only have 1 child. Your character has a twin.”


Although we were expecting it, the knock on the door at eight in the morning still made me jump. “Max! They’re here,” I called up the stairs, listening for the soft thump of my brother’s footsteps on the hallway above. Watching him run down the stairs, frantically running his fingers through his messy hair, I instinctively smoothed the fabric of my dress. According to my mother, we had to dress respectable, but also cute, to maximise our chance.

“Ready?” He asked me, looking strangely calm for the situation we were in. Then again, he had nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, I was so nervous I thought I was about to explode. I picked at a tiny stain on the front of my dress as my mother hurried through from the kitchen. Looking at both of us, she tightened the bow on the back of my dress and adjusted Max’s collar until she was satisfied with our apparel. “Now, I don’t want either of you to say anything unless you’re asked, always smile, look interested in what they’re saying, and Samantha,” she took hold of my shoulders and looked into my eyes, “I know we’ve tried everything in our power to make this work, but it’s up to you now. You have to make these people love you, otherwise…” She stared at the floor beneath our feet. “Well, we won’t think about that.”

“Open the door then,” said Max, “They won’t want to be kept waiting.”

“Wait one moment, Max!” My mother drew us close, hugging us both to her. “Good luck, both of you. Okay, both of you sit on the chairs.”

I watched her walk to the front door, clenching my hands so tightly I made an indent in my palms. This had to work. I didn’t have a choice.

She reached up to pull the latch from the door, I closed my eyes to take a shaky breath and by the time I’d opened them, two men in black suits and sunglasses had come through the door and were standing in the hallway.

“Is the boy ready?” One turned to face my mother, and then spotted Max and me sitting on the edge of the chairs in the living room. “What’s this? Is she a friend?” He turned to me. “Young lady, you should probably leave now.”

Instantly my mother and Max both made to stand up.

“Oh no,” said my mother, quickly gesturing for Max to sit down. “This is Samantha, she… well, she’s my daughter.”

I watched as both men stood up a little straighter. “You know that the academy does not permit more than one child from the same family, neither does the government.” He pointed at me. “That girl should not exist, and she wouldn’t, had you both had the operation once this one,” he pointed to Max, “came along.”

“No!” said my mother frantically, “Samantha is a twin. We had it, after they both came along.”

The two men exchanged a glance, which I didn’t think they could do seeing as they were wearing sunglasses, and looked at my mother. “These are less-than-ideal circumstances, however the rules remain the same.”

Max got to his feet and faced the men. “Listen, Sam’s my sister. Whatever we’ve done, we’ve done together, and I won’t let her life go to waste because of these stupid rules. Please, do something for her.”

“Max!” my mother cried, while I winced.

The man pointed a cold finger in Max’s face. “Listen young man, you need to watch your mouth. This girl is younger than you, therefore the rules still apply. You now have a choice. You can let your sister go and prosper and develop in your own life,” he looked at me and my mother curtly. “Or you’re both exiled. It’s your choice.”


What would you do if you were in Max’s position?

Love from,


Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part One

Dear Emma,

This is it! The start of Series Two, yay!

So today’s prompt was suggested by my good friend Elm and she said, “Your character has been expelled from a school of magic and must now fend for themselves.”

I realise that I made this slightly less focused on the magic than I would have liked, and also it was so so hard not to put in any Harry Potter references. Like, seriously.



I attempted to sneak past my mother, who was holding the offending letter in her hand as if it would poison her. Knowing my school, it probably could. Sadly, I could not get further than the bottom of the stairs before a sharp screech made me visibly jump and turn around, wincing.

Samantha! Don’t you dare run away, get back here now!

Even though the distance between the door to the living room and the stairs to which I was desperately clinging was only around a metre, it felt like an eternity. I could just run now, I thought frantically, staring at the unlocked front door just inches away. I could just leave. Unfortunately, my wand was in my room, and I didn’t want to take the risk of leaving without it. So slowly, painfully, I shuffled towards the open door to the living room.

I couldn’t even make eye contact with her. I could almost feel her eyes burning into my skull, sense the complete fury radiating off her in waves that crashed down on my conscience. But I wouldn’t buckle under the onslaught, not yet.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She didn’t move, either towards me or to her wand, which I could see resting on the coffee table nearby. That was both reassuring and terrifying, because whenever I was in trouble of some kind, she would normally hex me with something, and once my ears, nose, mouth, feet, whatever it was, returned to their normal shape and size she had normally calmed down.

This was a new kind of anger, and it scared the living daylights out of me.

“Samantha, I am so, I… I don’t even have words.”

Should I speak? I felt like adding any of my own opinions would instantly cause the unpredictability of this situation to magnify by a factor of about a thousand.

“Are you just going to stand there? You have disgraced this family, completely alienated your mother, aggravated the school, and you can’t say a thing to help yourself. Do you think they will let us send your sister there next year? What you’ve done has impacted so much more than your own life. It is selfishness, pure selfishness in the extreme.”

Maybe I should say something.  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mother. It happened. Besides, they did expel me on ridiculous grounds, all I did was enchant the flowers to spray custard 24/7. And I might have killed the school mascot in the process,” I saw the murderous look on her face and quickly changed tack, “It was a really old elf anyway! It was probably already close to death, and besides, it wasn’t my fault that it was the fourth time that-“

“Stop. Stop talking.” She abruptly cut me off, and reached for her wand. I thought she would hex me, send me to my room and it would be over. But she did something different. Brandishing her wand, she gestured towards the door to the hallway. “You have fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes to what?”

“Fifteen minutes to pack whatever you’re taking.” She looked me right in the eyes, and I realised that she had gone past the stage of being even remotely angry; I couldn’t see anything in her eyes. She had made her decision, and all emotion had abandoned her.

But it hadn’t abandoned me yet. I stared at her, desperately trying to comprehend what she had decided and attempting to change her mind.

“Get out of my house. I don’t want to see you again.”

“Are you serious?” I felt the first tears running down my face, looking into those cold eyes and making a final attempt to rediscover the warm glow I had become so accustomed to seeing.

“Fourteen minutes.”

Sobbing, I began to run up the stairs, nearly tripping over the top step as my eyes were so blurred. I opened the door to my room and instantly sank onto the floor, back against the side of my bed. What had I done?

I grabbed my wand and used it to flick all my possessions into a small case. Looking around the room at all the posters on my wall, the patterns on my bed, the photo frames I’d painstakingly hung on the walls and wardrobe, and in a fit of despair used my wand to change colour of the entire room to the same shade of grey that now occupied my heart. I couldn’t bear to leave this room, this house. I had spent the entire summer forgetting about my escapades of the previous year, and suddenly the weight of my actions came crashing down on me like an avalanche.

Now I no longer had a choice. I would have to come back to say goodbye to my sister, because I couldn’t bear to be without her, as annoying as she was, especially since she got her wand now she’s off to the school next week. There really should be rules about not doing magic at a certain age. I hoped and prayed she would be able to change my mother’s mind, because I had no idea how I would be able to survive alone. Sixteen, and already a failure.

The temptation to just escape out of the window was so overwhelmingly inviting, but I had to face her one last time.

Walking down the stairs, I quickly stashed my wand into my suitcase. Who knows what would have happened had she seen me with it.

She stood stoically in the hallway, and silently opened the door, gesturing me out. Having already wiped the tears from my eyes, I had turned into a sort of hollow shell, incapable of speech, and I just couldn’t bear it any longer. I ran as fast as I could out of the door and along the path. The cold night air hit me like a brick, and I found myself shivering, not only with cold but with sheer grief.

I heard the abrupt slam of the door behind me, and then I was truly, truly alone. I stood under the light of a nearby lamppost, watching the first snowflakes slowly twirl down onto the road, melting on contact with the asphalt.


I hope you enjoyed the opening to Drag and Drop Story Week, and if you have any other prompts leave them in the comments please 🙂

Love from,


The Blogger Awards 2015

Dear Emma,

So my awesome blogger friend The Ambivert has come up with an epic idea: the Blogger Awards 2015. Basically, there are many different categories of awards, and you nominate people for them, like the Oscars, or the BAFTAs, or… I can’t think of any more awards but you get the idea.

I’ve already officially nominated them over on Ambivert’s blog, but I thought I’d go into a bit more detail about my choices here.

Remember Drag and Drop Stories starts tomorrow, if anyone has thought of any extra prompts comment them here, they would be much appreciated!

So, I’m going to go through the categories and my nominees, and I’ll link to all their blogs below.

Blogger of the year: This is without a doubt Elm, she is the queen of the blogging world, always looking out for new bloggers (like me when I first started) and over time she’s become an amazing friend. She is my inspiration, and one day I’d hope to be like her. Elm, I love you 🙂

Blog of the year: Again, another easy one. LyfWithEm has one of the most inspiring creative relatable blogs I have ever seen, and she deserves this award 100%, not only because of her blog, but also because she is incredibly kind and such a good friend to me and to everyone else in this community.

Best photographer: Now this person is new to the blogging community, but I do really love her photography skills, and that’s The Wandering Girl. Go check her out, because her photos are great!

The newbie: That has definitely got to be Dziey, for one reason. Ever heard of the 5 Day Challenge? That has got to be one of the best ways to make your mark on the blogging community.

Prettiest blog: I actually really like the look of Ambivert’s blog, and I know these are your awards, but I’m nominating you! Come on, who doesn’t love Matt Smith in the rain?

So these are my nominations, I know I didn’t do every category but these are the ones I’ve decided on 🙂

Excited to start the stories tomorrow!

Love from,


Guess What?

Dear Emma,

So if you’ve been following me for a while you will know that in the summer I did a series called Drag and Drop Stories, which was a collaboration with you, my lovely followers.

I created a character and ‘drag and dropped’ her into situations and stories suggested in comments on my blog posts.

I loved writing those stories, and I hope that you loved reading them! It was a really fun week, especially because I was quite bored, as I usually am in the summer holidays.

So, I am on my Christmas break, and so I thought, why not do it again? It’s been a good few months since I’ve posted any creative writing on this blog.

So next week shall be Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2! I haven’t quite decided whether I am going to continue with my beloved heroine Sam, or whether this set of stories will feature a new protagonist: what do you guys think?

But either way, there is one thing that I really can’t do this series without, and that’s ideas. And that’s where you guys come in. I’d love it if you suggested some ideas for stories for me to write.

They can be anything: plots, situations, themes, anything that would help me to create a story. It’s okay if I get more than seven, in fact I’d love it, because then I have a choice, and I might come back to undone prompts in future series.

I’m putting this up now to give myself a few days to sort through my prompts (hopefully) and begin to write, and then the first story will be up on Monday!

Love from,






The Little Things

Dear Emma,

This week has been very emotional for me, in some of the best ways possible. 

Firstly, I was finally able to bury the hatchet and move on from some serious drama with a friend of mine, which has been great, because we are finally back to relative normal after six months of completely not talking to each other. It’s like it didn’t happen, which is what I wanted. 

Also, this week was the last week of term before the Christmas holidays (yay) which meant that I got a lot of cards from a lot of friends. Most of them were the typical 

To: XXX, Merry Christmas, From: XXX

They are cute and I love the sentiment, and it’s what I’m used to getting. 

Except this year I got something different. My friends, who I’ve decided to call Dolphin and Penguin, gave me what were quite possibly the best cards I’ve ever recieved. 

I opened them, instantly saw the essays they’d written inside, and by the end my eyes were almost brimming with tears, I was so happy. 

I understand that some of you might be used to stuff like this all the time from your friends and so you probably won’t understand why this means so much to me, but it does.

You see, this time last year I was really very lonely. I spent endless nights wondering if I had any friends, if anyone liked me. Sometimes I went to the extreme of wondering, “Would anyone really care if I just disappeared?” 

I felt so alone, and when I saw all those people who get beautiful thoughtful sentimental birthday presents and emotional hand-written cards from their best friends, I sat there and I thought, “That will never be me.”

I wanted that so badly. I yearned for friendships like that, but inside I thought that it wasn’t possible. Why would actual people choose to spend more time with me than they have to? 

And now… Now I have some friends who I honestly never thought would be as amazing as they are. 

If you’re reading this, Dolphin, Penguin, Tigress, Llama, you guys mean the world to me now. Even when you have stupid animal names, you’ve been there for me, and I promise I’ll be there for you for as long as you want me to be. 

We’ve had so many amazing memories together, and if you told me last year that I would have all of you by my side, I probably wouldn’t have believed you.

It’s the little things, the things we laugh about, the things I can talk to you about without fear of judgement and everything else we have that adds up to me being happier than I’ve ever been.

Anyway, enough of me being an emotional. As you can probably tell, I’m just really happy. 

Love from,


The Liebster Award

Dear Emma,

So my lovely friend over at The Wandering Girl nominated me for The Liebster Award! She is a great blogger so definitely be sure to check her out!

The rules are:

Post the award on your blog.

Thank the blogger who nominated you, and include a link to their blog.

Write eight random facts about yourself.

Nominate eight bloggers who you think are deserving and who have less than 200 followers.

Answer the questions put forward by the nominating party and put up 8 questions for your nominees.

So, eight random facts about me:

  1. I am a weird mix of being a procrastinator and incredibly lazy, which means that I can’t be bothered to finish a task unless I can do it perfectly.
  2. My favourite colour is red, although recently I’ve been loving gold and icy blue. 
  3. My favourite animal is without a doubt a lion, they are simultaneously the most majestic and adorable of all creatures.
  4. My two loves are writing and music, sadly these have to be pushed aside a lot of the time to make room for responsibilities. 
  5. A book I’ve been loving at the moment is “All the Bright Things” by Jennifer Niven, it’s such an incredible story. Go read it!
  6. I really want to redecorate my room, and I have for literally forever.
  7. I once accidentally called 999 and slammed the phone down while home alone. I then felt so bad that I rang them up again to apologise, which in hindsight may have not been the best idea because I’m still preventing someone with a real emergency from calling. Well done me.
  8. I am constantly terrified about whether I have any close friends, even when I know I do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying about it.

Okay, so now I have to answer these questions.

What is your favourite meal? In terms of comfort food, I would probably say my mum’s spaghetti bolognaise. That stuff is good. 

What is the most played song/ your favourite song? Right now I’ve been obsessed with Troye Sivan’s new album but my all-time favourite song? I don’t actually know, I love music too much to just pick one 🙂

Describe yourself in 7 words. Friendly, Sensitive, Overthinker, Musical, Generous, Indecisive, Thoughtful.

Write something in a different language. Hola, je mange les jambes de les petit enfants. Adios. Wait, that was two languages. Oh well.

If you could go back in time, where would you go? I would go to either the 50s or the dinosaur times. That’s either me in heaven, or dinosaur-nerd child me in heaven.

On a scale of one to ten, how much are you excited for Christmas? About 1000. 

What are you most thankful for? The fact that I have a home and the opportunity to have a good education. Also my musical ability, I take a lot of pride in that. 

What did you want to be when you were younger? When I was really little, I think I wanted to be a scientist. But for a long time I had no idea, I think I wanted to be a zookeeper. 

And the bloggers I’m nominating are:





AKA The Author




And I’m actually going to ask you to do these questions, because they were a lot of fun for me!

Love from,


Talking in Code

Dear Emma,

So I’ve come to a certain realisation about the way that I talk about people here on this blog. This is anonymous, and so when I’m talking about various friends etc. I’m sure that for you all these people have merged into one confusing person with many conflicting characteristics.

Therefore, I’m going to use code names for all my friends so they seem a little bit more like real people to you, and so you can distinguish between them when I talk about them.

I’ve decided to use animal names – and had wayy too much fun deciding on which animals I would use for which people – and so in future when I’m talking about people for now I will be consistent with the names I use 🙂

Love from,


P.S. I realise this is not the most exciting of posts which is why I posted it on the same night as my story 🙂