26 Aug 2016

6 Of The Best Places To Visit In Norfolk

You wouldn't have thought it but Norfolk is a pretty cool place to be. I mean I have no idea why Beyonce is not partying it up there with DiCaprio and the rest of Hollywood because they are seriously missing out. Big time!

I, on the other hand, spent a lovely weekend there and returned yesterday two stone heavier with aching feet, knotted hair that even my tangle teezer cannot fix and a camera roll flooded with a gazillion pictures.

I  have visited a few times before as my god mother lives up but is often unable to come and visit us due to ill health, so we use it as an excuse to pop up there every now and then. Besides it's only two and bit hours- unless you get caught in traffic which you usually do unless you set out in the dead of night but ain't nobody got time for that!

So I guess you could call me a bit of an expert when it comes to anything about holidaying in England including to the most scenic places to visit, restaurants with the scrummiest food,  shops that sell the creamiest ice creams, the best beaches for sunbathing. the most instragramable cafes and of course the cheapest pubs to get drunk at.

So if you're into any of that shit, yo better read on because I have collected together all my norfolky knowledge and mashed it together into one flipping fantastic post. Don't say I never treat you:

1. The Instagram One: Bridgestones Restaurant and Cafe 

This is one of my favorite cafes with possibly the best window display I have ever seen in my life. Everything is homemade with the freshly sourced high quality ingredients that make the slabs of cakes, tarts, flapcakes and scones simply melt in your mouth. It is located in Potter Heigham (which is a beautiful place to visit anyway!) and is the most cutest family run business you will ever come across. 

The owners have over thirty years experience running the place and the staff are so lovely, even joking around with us when they asked if we were using their free wifi to play Pokemon Go, which we totally weren't btw...okay maybe we were but don't tell anyone! 

Oh and the interior is like so me, with big cushy leather sofas, bookcases, nicnacs and the cutest bird of paradise wallpaper. I could honestly live there forever- YOU NEED TO VISIT NOW! 

2. The Family Fun One: Herbert Woods

Right across the road from BridgeStone is Herbert Woods, a bright blue building home to the second largest boat hire yard on the Broads. Every time we go to Norfolk we are sure to spotted cruising down the river on a day boat or a kayak in our life jackets (which are as incredibly attractive as always!) 

You need no former boating experience what so ever as the staff are happy to explain everything, including safe precautions, and before long it will just be you and the open water, maybe even a few swans thrown in for good measures. 

But beware, they aren't at all as friendly as they might look! 

Once you get over the whole this-is-like-titanic-all-over-again-and-omg-i'm-going-to-die-a-virgin thing, it's pretty enjoyable stuff. 

3. The Scenic One: The Bridge Inn 

This is the first of three pubs that I would like to introduce you to. As you can see this one is pretty special- I mean look at that boat use as a flower planter! 

It is a very popular tradition pub with brilliant outdoor facilities running along side the Broads. The food on offer is your typical pub grub, which FIY I adore! It's the type of hearty meal that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy like there is a little bear cub curled up asleep inside you. Ya know the feeling?

And remember as your on holiday, calories don't count so shove as much food as you can fit in your gob and thank me later.

 A puppy would be nice...!

4. The Once In A Life Time Chance One: Horsey Beach 

Beaches in England have a reputation for being a bit shall we say...shit. And for most of them that is very true, with the exception of Horsey beach.  

In the summer it is one of those lovely beaches with sand instead of those retched pebbles that decide to rip the soles of your feet open just for the lols. And even more surprisingly, in the winter when the beach is the last place on your mind to visit, it is covered in seals! Like actual real life seals.

 Although we didn't actually know that then so turned up in the middle of July expecting to see them literally everywhere, like in the pictures, but sadly only spotted the head of one bobbing around near the horizon. Instead I'm just gunna have to convince someone to take me down there in the winter so I can hopefully see some up close. 

Oh and park at the Horsey Gap or Windpump car park if you wanna go seal hunting otherwise its miles away and if your anything like me, you'll be dead by the time you reach them! 

5. The History One: Blicking Hall 

I am a total nerd when it comes to anything mildly history related and so when I found Blicking Hall on TripAdvisor, I practically had a heart attack. I mean what could be better than a beautiful stately home and 9500 acres of gardens and walks to wander through and dream about the day you win the lottery and can finally move in. Not the mention the fact that there is a stunning circular lake to walk around filled with fish and ducks because who doesn't love feeding the ducks and there is also not one but two cute little cafes which serve divine homemade soup, massive slaps of cake and buttery shortbread. 

It is honestly the best place to visit on a warm summers day with a picnic in tow and if you are national trust member you get in free of charge. 

I may also have already planned my wedding there because I mean imagine how gorgeous the photos would be with that house in background!

6. The Yummiest One: Bucks Arms 

This pub (yes we love a pub in this family as you can probs tell from the amount of them featured here!) is not even five minutes from Blicking hall and is the perfect place to relax after trudging around the estate all the day. It's quite small inside although there is a cute lil' courtyard if the weather is nice and severs much poshier (and tastier!) nosh than the other two pubs...but don't tell them I said that. 

And if only buy one thing there on your visit, please for the love of God buy the Lamb and Mint burger with Cajun fries. It is honesty the best thing in the world and the fries are so simple yet mouth-wateringly delicious- although a glass of water by your side is advisable as things can get a wee bit spicy in there! 

But despite serving slightly higher end food, it is still a lovely family friendly pub. Just remember to drink responsibly as being sick is never a good look. EVER

26 Jul 2016

Getting In The Garden This Summer

Can I just start off by saying how much I genuinely adore my garden.

It's pretty small and basic but to me it's what a wand is to a wizard and what the sea is to a mermaid.

I could honestly never live in a flat because I spend so much time in the garden, especially now with this just-pour-a-bucket-ice-cold-water-over-me-now weather we are having, that I literally would not know what to do with my time otherwise.  

I imagine me without a garden being a bit like when Harry freed Dobby from the Malfoy's and then after being super excited for ten minutes about being finally being a free house elf, he found himself wandering around with nothing to do so decided to dedicate the rest of his life to being Harry's protector. That would be me trying to keep a poor house plant alive, expect I wouldn't be as successful as Dobby was!

I mean how much is too much water? I just never know.

There are times (even when the sun is shining because believe it or not the sun doesn't always make everything better!) when the idea of putting on half decent clothes, doing my make up and hair so I can venture outside the front door without scaring the neighbors, is jut too much effort. Life can feel suffocating sometimes but there are way to overcome it all.

Why, as soon as it reaches 25 degrees, do we Brits have to go rushing off to the beach? Or the sea side like our lives depend on it?

Why can't I just sit in the garden on the new Miami garden furniture we brought and enjoy the sun in the comfort of my own home. And FYI you would totally want to because those babies are the comfiest seats ever and the chairs have arms.

They have arms people!

Living the dream.

And in your garden it is acceptable to do a lot of things you wouldn't dream about doing in public.

It's acceptable to wear the shortest pair of shorts you own and not have shaved your legs because who's time for that when you gotta catch all those sun rays.

You don't need to worry about your face or your hair or your borderline bingo wings; nobody can see you. They can't see you throwing caution to the wind and only applying sun cream to your arms because duh those pale things you call legs NEED some sun. They can't see you slowly eating your way through a family sized box of Fab Ice Lollies, which are actually like heaven.

No lie.

Nor do they see you sipping on jug fulls of Pimm's with homegrown strawberries, cucumber and mint at eleven o'clock in the morning. What is so bad about that anyway, didn't your mother ever tell you to keep hydrated in hot weather?

Aside from all the jokes, though, a garden is a little piece of paradise. It just what you do with it that  makes it special.

It's a place for hosting BBQ's, for camping under the stars, for growing fresh fruit and veg from teeny tiny seeds, for watching flowers that you planted bloom from buds that seemed as though they were never going to open, for admiring bees and butterflies as they bumble around the leaves, for free entertainment and most importantly for being in reaching distance of food, drink and wifi!

There is just something about being able to step outside and explore within the safety of your own property and knowing that if you don't get up in the morning to water the plants, they will be fried by the sun.

Plus by the look on my cat's face at the moment as he is stretched across the hot patio, under the shade of the umbrella, he seems to like the garden too!

So lets all get out there today. If its in a mess why not pop down to your local garden center, buy a few pots of plants and position them around the garden, nail up hanging baskets or plant your own full of strawberry seeds, treat yourself to a brightly colored watering can or one of those paper windmill things you stick in the ground for the wind to blow or hang up some bird feeders and leave food for the local hedgehog.

Please, don't mop around in doors all day when there is so much to be discovered right outside your back door. Talking of which, I'm off to eat a big slice of Victoria Sponge Cake in the sun.

I mean, why not?

Surprisingly enough this is not a sponsored post. I just love Pimm's and garden furniture!  

17 Jul 2016

Work Experience: Finding Your Path

I'm not going to lie, on Monday morning I was practically crapping myself. 

Picture the scene: a sleep deprived bedraggled girl curled up in the fetal position in bed desperately dreading the sound of her alarm going off as she knew that would signal an hour before she had to be her two work experience placement at the primary school she went to six years ago. 

 I have explained before about my plans to go to university and become a teacher, so I thought it best to get a real idea of what it's like to be working in a school. I'd been for a interview the a week before and saw lots of little kids mooching about and thought "ahh aren't they sweet, I can't wait to get started." 

But then on Sunday, I thought "oh my frickin God, tomorrow I'm going to be in a real working environment with real life adults that aren't my parents in class with a bunch of eight years old and expected to look after them with basically no experience or knowledge what so ever. I mean what the hell have I let myself in for! 

What if I hated it? What if the children didn't like me? What if I didn't like them? And I never wanted to teach again? What if all my plans for the future would be ruined and I'd have to go back to the drawing board? 


So that morning I nervously walked up to reception, muttered something about doing my work experience there and tried in vain to open the door into the building, not realising that it wouldn't open because it was one of those doors that the receptionist had to press a button to open and I just looked like a complete plonker standing there yanking at the handle. Then having been set some party bags for the end of term to fill and tie up by the class teacher, I proceeded to forget which classroom I was meant to be in but found it eventually thanks to a rather lovely (attractive!) maintenance guy. 

When I walked into the class I forgot to factor in that a group of 30 plus children would be sat there staring at me as I had just interrupted a lesson and the teacher (who also taught me about six million years ago and is still there!) introduced me as Miss Dale. I mean come on, nobody has ever called me that in my life. Yet the whole class of eight year olds cheered and clapped and I died and went to heaven because I had not been in the room more than five minutes and they already loved me. 

They wanted to know how old I was, if I could guess their name, if they cause guess mine and if I could help them work out a maths problem they were stuck on like I actually knew what I was talking about. Some kid even decided he really wanted to hold my hand so proceeded to yank me around the room with my hand firmly gripped in his while he showed me all his wonderful work that I couldn't read. 

Me:   Oooh that's a lovely drawing of a dragon
Him: What? That's a drawing of my mum! 
Me:    ... 

And after listening to them read what seemed like the easiest books ever after struggling through Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudiced during my English Lit lessons, we did PE. And if there is one thing you should know about me is that I bloody hate sports with a passion but watching all the kids run around the field playing rounders and knowing that all I had to do was score...was surprisingly enjoyable. Mostly because I was the one torturing them, not the other way around. And it was fun. Not least because some cute girl with special needs let me play with her Nemo toy and I was like this is so much more fun than learning about the Oedipous Complex (if you do look this up it is fucking weird!) and what the hell carbaminoheamoglobin is! 

Not only that but in the space of a week I've been on two trips, one to forest school on Tuesday where we built camp fires and toasted marshmallow and a type of soda bread called Australian Damper Bread which was just so awesome and like the most amazing comfort food ever that I just had to get the recipe off the woman cooking it. Then on Friday we ventured to the The Haven Plotlands in Essex, where we wandered around a house built in the 1930s, attempted to do washing with a mangle while at the same time keeping an eye on all the kids so they didn't suddenly decide to wedge their fingers between the rolling pins and become fingerless and galloped around the vegetable garden on those wooden horses you stick between your legs. 

Such fun!

I still have one more week with them all and for the first time in forever (their love of Disney is rubbing off on me as you can probably tell!) I am actually excited about Monday morning. 

I mean when does this ever happen. Like seriously. 

I swear if I worked in a school like this for the rest of my life I would die happy. Even if I hadn't become a multimillionaire, visited all the countries in the world and ticked off every single item on my bucket list, it could not top the moment you see a child begin to understand something that YOU have taught them or when on your first day, kids actually fight over who gets to sits next to you and one of them says "your my new favorite teacher!" and I just melt. Just physically melt inside from happiness and pride! 

There have been many times when I have felt like I don't fit in with the people my age who go out boozing and partying all the God damn time, but suddenly I feel like I have found the path I'm meant to take. 

That this is my time to shine.

 I hope for those of you who haven't found that contentment and positive outlook of the future that you one day will, but know you sometimes have to force yourself to do the things you really don't want to do. 

You have to go outside your comfort zone to places that make your knees shake and heart race and mind worry because more often than not it turns out flipping amazing in the end. You just have to keep working at it. Keep talking to people. Keep learning. Keep exploring. Discovering. Seeking for what really makes your heart soar because once you find your calling, it's like you are looking at a whole new world. 

*Cue cheesy song from Aladdin- see what I mean* 

And if anyone is seriously considering working with children, go for it! 

I've spoken to the experts and the overall feeling is that it is the best and most rewarding job in the world. No two days are the same and it's practically impossible to become bored of seeing those smiling little faces looking back at you in adoration. It's hard work behind the scenes, challenging and demanding with long hours and not the most amazing paycheque but the fact you are changing lives every minute of your working day makes it all worth it. 

So worth it. 

Funny how life works, eh? 
Love Beth xx

5 Jul 2016

Why University Terrifies Me

Well I was all ready for my great blogging come back about how even the word 'university' makes me physically want to vomit over myself.


Then life happened and evil germs spontaneously decided to invaded my body and make me sound like a chain smoking man wearing one of those weird swimming nose peg things! And my Mum always told me you only caught a cold from going outside in the winter with no coat on...mother lied.

So now I'm struggling through this post, dosed up on paracetamol and thinking shit what would I do if I were sick like this at (here comes the dreaded word!) university and there was no one to make me gloriously runny eggs in the morning and cover me with a blanket when I fall asleep on the sofa because AHHH is that miniature person drilling into my head again?

Anyway. Uni.

Everyone I meet is actually frickin' obsessed with asking me if I'm going to university and what I'm going to study and am I going to be able to survive living on me own and do I realise how flipping expensive it is and blah blah blah. So for those people, the truth is this:

I don't really particularly want or have some desperate urge to go to university. The only reason I am going is becase for as long as I can remember (apart from the time I wanted to be a vet and then I found out it was nine years plus at university and was like nope!) I have wanted to be a primary school teacher, not for the money or the flipping amazing holidays but for being surrounded by children and knowing that you are shaping their future every day of your life.

I think the original idea stems from being surrounded by my younger brother and his friends for much of my life with their innocent little chubby faces and unfaltering optimism that yeah I'm gunna be a millionaire astronaut when I'm older and have a hundred girlfriends because that's totally not weird at all and why the hell not. However, to become a primary school teacher, there is pretty much one option and one option only. University.

So if that's the price I'm going to pay for reaching my ultimate goal, then that's what I'm going to have to do. Even if it does make the shy, introverted girl inside me scream in horror.

I mean the very prospect of packing up all my belongings and starting up what is essentially a spanking new life in a city I hardly know with people I hardly know, is basically my worst nightmare.

Some people like change. I, on the other hand, hate it.

 My comfort zone is very comfortable thank you very much and if I had it my way, I doubt I would ever leave. But I have to and that is something that I am slowly...very slowly coming to terms with. A bit like when you dropped your ice cream cone on the floor as a child and just stared at it for a good ten minutes like did that really actually just flipping happen or will I wake up any minute and find the remains of the creamy goodness smeared around my chops?

So far I have forced myself to attend three university open days and a university convention at Essex University and if I do say so myself, I think that deserves a pat on the back and/or a Thornton's Chocolate Hamper or two.

Or three.

However, the more I think about it, the more it kinda, sorta excites me. And someone please shoot me now because I can't believe I actually just said that.

No but seriously my life is pretty dull at the moment having lived in the same town for the past sixteen years, it feels like I've discovered and seen everything there possibly is to discover and see and I'm bored. I'm tired of going to the same places and seeing the same people and doing the same thing time and time again like I've pressed replay a song and I. CAN'T. STOP. LISTENING. TO. IT.

At the moment, I'm the quiet girl. The one wears black, keeps to a small, trusting group of friend and who tries desperately to blend into the background and get on with whatever she needs to get on with in a way that will draw the least attention to her as possible.

But now I really dislike being that girl.

However, the problem is I can't change because could you imagine me walking into class tomorrow shouting out the answer to every god damn question and volunteering to reenact the entire works of Shakespeare in front of the whole school. People would think they had been abducted by aliens!

So now I feel that University would be the perfect opportunity to allow me to be break free from this personality and share a side of myself that never normally get's shared because these new people I'll meet won't know any different.

Sure at the moment I know what to expect every day when I wake up and I don't get filled with anxiety at the thought that I'll get lost and end up somewhere in Hong Kong when I step outside the front door, but I just feeling like I'm ready (kind of!) for something new.

Who knows what will happen. I just hope it will be good.

Have you been to Uni or are you still thinking about going?
Love Beth xx

29 May 2016

My First Month Of Bullet Journaling

I first discovered the Bullet Journal concept on Robowecop blog's and was hooked!

 Despite the hours I shamefully spend scrolling through Instagram, I have never once stumbled upon this cute little Bullet Journal community that I now find myself immersed within and I'm happy to report that Bethany now has a new baby to sink her teeth into and use as a distraction when she should probably be revising...


I've always loved the idea of keeping a journal and have tried many MANY times before, once with a tradition journal that you write in every day and once with this Q&A a-day-five-year journal which I brought simply because it was Potter style and looked megz cute on my bookshelf! And on both occasions I didn't get past the first week because:

a) I was lazy
b) Unmotivated
c) And it was dull af!

But the Bullet Journal is different.

Maybe it's the role of the community that spurs me on to produce more and more beautiful pages or maybe it's the fact that, unlike the other journals, I'm producing work which will actually benefit and motivate me to do things and get organised such as to-do lists, memory loggers, future logs, goals, inspirational quotes and habit and finance trackers. But most importantly of all- the thing which first caught my attention- the freedom to make your Bullet Journal your own Bullet Journal.

There are a few, easy guidelines on how a basic journal should be set up- which you can find over at Bulletjournal.com and in more detail at Tiny Ray Of Sunshine's blog if my rambling have somehow interested you- and after that it's completely up to you how you layout the pages out and what you fill them with.

It's a bit like if Hagrid, after dropping the biggest bomb shell of Harry's life that he was in fact a wizard, gave him a wand and said "Knock your self out!" before disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron to buy another dangerous man-eating animal.

Like ya do.

Half of you would be brimming with excitement and want to vomit a rainbow of colour and fancy calligraphy all over the page of your new Leuchtturm1917 and the other half of you would want to spend hours umming and ahhing over what to possibly fill the first page with before giving up and putting the notebook with the other pile of notebooks you couldn't possibly bare to write in and ruin.

And yep I just used a super cool Harry Potter analogy there and I'm #sorrynotsorry.

For me, I started by looking for inspiration on Instagram and blogs including the Bullet Journal Queen herself Boho Berry. That may or may not have been the best idea as I found myself amazed at some of these pieces of art work which made Van Gough looks like a four year old and drew shame to those of us (moi!) with dreadfully bad handwriting. But I learnt that there was really no correct way to Bullet Journal. From fancy expensive notebooks to £1 ones from WHSmith, blunt pencils to fountain pens and works of art to minimal get-the-job-done black and white journals.

The choice is yours.

I cannot wait for June as there are a few things I would like to change/add to my Bullet Journal system due to personal preference including:

  • Colour codded dots instead of the symbols that are suggested to use as note indicators as I remember things more visually, plus duh their coloured dots!
  • Removal of the Doodle Of The Month Page as it felt too rigid and really doodles should be more spontaneous and...doodelious.
  • A bigger future log as I didn't originally think I would be able to fill a full-sized one but then so many events have come up (cos I'm so popular and that!) that if my little brain remembers much more, I'm sure it will explode!
  • And more original layouts rather than copying  taking 'inspiration' from Instagram!

But really this is only the beginning so here's to all my current and future fellow Bullet Journalists:

May your journals forever be filled with page upon page of useful spreads and may rainbows and unicorns and everything perfectly perfect come rolling from your pencil every time you write and let's try REALLY super DUPER hard to not abandon this journal like all the others!

It's special.

24 Apr 2016

Why You Should Love The Royals As Much As Me

Last Thursday the Queen turned ninety and I was probably more excited then than when my brother was born...sorry bro! So I think it's fair to say that I am a royalist through and through.

I think this all began with my love for history as a young girl when my Dad would make me watch TV documentaries about the Tudors, take me to museums up London and answer my very pressing questions about how exactly you mummify someone and why on earth the Celts thought it fashionable to paint their faces blue.

I mean a gal gotta know, right?

My school was probably a big influence too in which I remember spending hours drawing the Egyptian Gods in Art, writing diary entries from the perspective of a Victorian servant and dressing up as a Greek in a bed sheet thanks to my Nan's handy work on the sewing machine.

From there came my interest in the royals and their amazing and frankly terrifying family history that dates back over a thousand years from bloody battles, murderous villains, beheadings and a whole lot of drama that would give The Kardashian's a run for their money!

But at the end of the day, they are our history.

In a world where the press and parliament are viewed with negativity and suspicion, good old Queenie is one of the few people we can trust. What's more she is now the longest and oldest serving British Monarch who at the age of twenty one pledge her entire life to our service.

She has created peace between our country, Germany, Japan and most recently Ireland as well as travelling the world on our behalf and almost never for her own pleasure- I mean when was the last time you saw her sunbathing in the Mediterranean? Yet at the age of ninety she is still going strong, despite being a similar age to my Nan who spends all her time watching reruns of Countdown and The Chase!
"I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong."
      - Queen Elizabeth 1947

People are quick to judge the Royal Family but they forget that attractions related to them bring in on average £500 million a year from oversea tourists and yet new figures have shown that they only cost British Taxpayers 51p each! And although the attractions are unlikely to spontaneously combust should the monarchy be abolished, it is the Royals being firmly in the limelight that keeps them relevant today.

In years to come, we won't be remember for those smoking selfie we put up on Instagram, the time somebody wore the same outfit as us at a party or the time we threw up over ourselves with nerves before a big presentation and had to stand on stage wondering if anyone else could smell last night's dinner too!

 No, we will be remembered as Elizabeth II's people:

The crazy, patriotic people who camp out in the rain for the chance of spotting the Royals drive past in a car with blacked out windows. The people who line the streets madly waving union jack flags at who ever walks by. The people who turn up wearing weird and wacky things. The people who throw bouquets of flowers at the Queen even thought we know they will probably end up in the bin in ten minutes time. And the people and their communities who hang up bunting, bake the most gorgeous cakes and throw extravagant street parties to celebrate.

Britain would be nothing without the Royal Family, just another little floating island that people can't remember the name of.

Nauru or Djibouti, anyone?

Love Beth xx

17 Apr 2016

If I Were A Boy...

Oh come on, don't look at me like that!

There had to come a point in my blogging life where I would have to quote Queen Bey because duh she is the metaphorical Queen and this is that point. The idea for this long awaited post (sorry about that!) came when I was listening to an old pop playlist on Spotify because you can't beat the classics and lord behold "If I were a boy" was playing and it kinda got me thinking.

Don't get be wrong I love being a woman. I love wearing sassy dresses and high heels that make my heart swell. I love those intimate private chats I have with my gal pals about 'girly stuff'. I love pampering myself and slapping on a ton of beauty product half of which I have no idea what they do but who cares the packaging is cute and it smells like heaven. I love the solidarity that can exist between woman, how we stand up together and fight for the abolishment of arranged marriages or the right to vote against the self righteous, egotistical men who think they are God's gift and therefore deserve to rule the world. I love the fact that we live longer, are more nurturing and are better communicators and multi-taskers than men.

However, there are some things about being a woman that are not all sunshine and rainbows and for the most part I think it's quite easy to say that men have it a whole lot easier than we do. So please excuse me while I pop into my imaginary kingdom (don't pretend like yours doesn't have candyfloss cloud and ice cream snow too!) and live out the interesting scenario that Beyonce has proposed here:

"If I were a boy, 
Even just for one day..." 

I'd never have to experience the sheer horror of blood pouring from my vagina 24 hours a day for a week or sometimes even more if mother nature is being particularly harsh. I never have to to deal with the fact that it turns you into a raging bloated lunatic who doesn't know whether to laugh or cry half the time or have to do a mad panicked run to the local supermarket when I run out of tampons and forgot to buy anymore.

I'd never have to squat over a dirty public toilet or pee all over my knickers when I got cut short and ended up having to piss in the woods where even the squirrels seemed to mock me for not comfortably being able to pee in a bottle and throw it out the car window. Which FIY guys is gross especially when it's summer and the stuff starts to warm up and your travelling along the motor way with the window's rolled down...yuk!

I could get ready in under an hour and wouldn't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn to shower, wash hair, brush hair, blow dry hair, straighten hair, style hair, pick out an outfit, put on makeup, take off makeup because it makes me look like a clown, re apply makeup, spritz on some perfume, attempt to fit everything in a really small handbag, apply plasters to poor high heel worn out feet, put on heels and finally leave the house.

I could wear the same thing twice and not be judged. Jeans and a hoodie all day, every day for the rest of entirety while the girls are left having to keep buying new clothes or finding new ways to accessorize for fear of that one person who will say "I swear you always wear that top!" or an even more colossal fear that somebody will wear the same outfit of you and you'll end up in one of those horrid magazine articles- Who Wore It Better!

 It would be acceptable to walk around topless in summer without being forced by social standards to keep that t-shirt on even though you have massive sweat patches and the materiel is so stuck to your back right now it might as well be part of you, when all your wanna do it rip it right off and get a good even tan like your male counterparts . But no can do!

I'd never have to worry about wearing a bra that is bloody uncomfortable and restrictive but is only slightly better than not wearing a bra at all. Nor would I have to worry about finding a top or dress that doesn't show my bra straps because god forbid anybody should see them and know that Bethany Dale of Essex wears a bra!

And lastly, the biggest one of all: I would never have to experience childbirth from the sheer nuisance of carrying around a growing child for nine whole months while it kicked and squirmed around inside my womb to the pressure it puts on my already peanut sized bladder so that for the rest of entirety I would never be able to pee in a straight line again, before going through the terrifying agony of pushing the little brat's watermelon sized head through a hole the size of a lemon only for it to keep me up all night.

So unless a bloke is as stupid to challenge me further after such staggeringly obvious evidence, I'm pretty certain that if I really were a boy, life would be a whole lot easier right now. 

No doubt about it! 

Love Beth xx

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