Am I too old for this?

Something happened recently and I’m not sure how I feel about it. My Mum had pulled up outside the house and I was sat in bed with my window open listening to a conversation she was having with this random passerby (as Mothers do). The woman had just been to Florida on holiday and was talking about what an amazing time she had had out there and how Mum should definitely go.

I wasn’t really listening to most of it, but my ears pricked up when my Mum mentioned me and my sister. It went something like this:

Mum: I have wanted to go to America for ages with my girls but never got round to it.
Woman: Oh you have daughters?! I bet they would love it.
Mum: Yes, twins and they both are big Harry Potter fans so would love Universal Studios.
Woman: Oh, are your twins the two who wear all the Harry Potter clothes?!

Oh god. The ones who wear the Harry Potter clothes. How embarrassing. I’m 25 years old and if I died tomorrow that would be my legacy, my fangirliness. It’s not as though I haven’t realised that I wear a lot of Gryffindor clothes, I only own 3 jackets and all of them have ‘Hogwarts’ or ‘Gryffindor’ stamped across them somewhere but I had convinced myself that they were subtle enough that not everyone will notice. Upon further reflection, I think I have been deluding myself (picture down below).

So the question is, how do I feel about it. Is it time to stop? Am I becoming insane? Am I too old and no one has the heart to tell me? All valid questions that I have been casually bringing up to people in the hopes they will tell me that my fashion sense is cool. My boss was one of these people and he told me very firmly to continue to dress in my ‘house’ clothes as it makes me unique and shows my personality. I mean, he is in his 50’s and constantly tells me I am a Slytherin, so I am not sure I can trust his opinion. To be honest, at this point in my life I think I can get away with showing house pride and people will still find it endearing, but to what end? When I have kids I can hardly parade them around in Hogwarts clothes and pretend we are the Weasley’s can I?! (I am secretly enjoying envisioning this scenario).

Then again, being a ‘nerd’ is in right now, with everyone running about in Star Wars t-shirts and cult film references tattooed all over them. My generation are becoming advocates for being yourself and liking what you want, regardless of what anyone says, so maybe this is my tiny way of rebelling against the norm. I don’t have any other little quirks to my personality so perhaps this will have to do.

It’s Harry Potter anyway. Everyone loves it so I’m hardly alone on this fangirl bandwagon. I could be their leader in this little town. It’s a fandom that tends to stick around rather than be a passing thing, like Twilight for example. (Sorry to any Twihards out there).

If I am still wearing this get-up when I am 40, I will let you know.

Until then,



My first headteacher

This is a bit of a random one, but seeing as it has taken up most of my day I thought I would write it down.
You may have previously read on my blog that last month was my birthday. I turned 25 and the nicest thing that I received was a card from my very first headmaster. My favourite school was primary school, no one has an ego at that age and they don’t see any differences past ‘my favourite colour is yellow and yours is blue’. But by far my favourite thing about that school was my headmaster, Mr Mackenzie. He was always so happy and treated the children as individuals who all deserved attention and appreciation, regardless of what they succeeded or struggled with. He made sure kids could be kids, and would let us have fun in whatever it was we were doing, whether it was teaching us to dance or pushing us around in a wheelbarrow in gardening club. Everyone who went to that school agreed he was one of a kind. In fact, I liked him so much that one time I asked him if he could be my second Dad, not caring that my Mum was stood right beside me. Mum wasn’t all that impressed!!

Well, my Mum works in a home for the Elderly and she recently bumped into him as he was visiting one of the residents. He recognised her and they chatted about me and my twin Rosie and all the memories from first school. She mentioned it was our 25th coming up and he said he often spoke of us to others and he couldn’t believe we were 25 already!
Jump ahead two weeks and my Mum arrives at work to find a card pinned to the notice board addressed to me and Rose. She brought it home to us and we opened it to find a lovely message from none other than Mr Mackenzie. We both cried, it was the loveliest thing to think that a man who had such an impact on our lives had taken the time out of his day to send us a birthday card, especially as he has taught so many children during his career. It made our birthday so special and it is something we will keep forever.

We decided we should write a letter back, so that is what we have been doing all day. It has taken 4 drafts and lot’s of frustration to try and write down how grateful we are to a man who we haven’t seen in almost 16 years! I think we managed to get the point across without sounding too mushy so I am happy. I really hope he realises how important he was at that school, he was the backbone that held it up and everyone’s favourite teacher.

Being a teacher nowadays is hard, with little pay and too much work but I guess when you sit back and think about the changes you are making to the lives of young people it is worth it. I’m sure there are a lot of teachers like Mr Mackenzie and a lot of grateful children like us.

Thank you for letting me get this down, it’s been a good day.




I suck at planning

It’s Monday today which can only mean it’s time for a fresh start. Every Monday begins with a healthy breakfast, because I have almost definitely eaten nothing but junk food over the weekend, and an early shift at work because my boss hates me. This is the routine, and today was no different. Well, that’s sort of a lie, I am feeling slightly more motivated today seeing as I did a stupid thing and got on the scales last night. Stupid Evie. I had a mini heart attack and vowed that today I would change my life, and to be fair to myself, I have eaten three healthy meals today so I haven’t let myself down. But seeing as I had a plan for today that involved at least 3 things I DIDN’T do, I can’t pat myself on the back too hard. The food was the top priority and I stuck to that but the rest of my life alterations went out the window.

This happens to me quite a lot. I make a wonderful plan for my week on a Sunday and I never ever stick to it. Now, I know what you are thinking; she isn’t setting realistic goals, she needs to have smaller lists, she needs to spend less time planning and more time doing, and I promise you I am trying! Today, for example, I was supposed to go online and find a headshot photographer to update my acting headshots. so I can sort out my acting portfolio. Have I done that? Nope. That is literally the easiest thing to do! Just sit down on my bed and look online, which is basically all I do anyway, and I haven’t managed it. If I couldn’t do that it is no wonder I didn’t go for a walk, I had even considered a run if I was feeling adventurous! Ha! I should have known.

Not to worry though, I seem to have saved myself too much self-loathing because I have managed to go to the shops and buy fruit (again with the food successes), and have washed my hair. Washing my hair shouldn’t really be part of my goals for the day, but my hair is crazy thick and washing it is a chore, so I am going to count it! Of course, I have also written this blog post that you are reading so let’s add that off my to-do list as well. See, I just need to be an optimist. An optimistic blogger with clean hair and a fridge full of fruit. What an achievement. Saturday Evie would have cake to celebrate but unfortunately for me, this is Monday Evie, and Monday Evie NEVER has cake. I’m not the biggest fan of her but she is the kind of person I want to be every day of the week so I best start liking her.

So anyway, now I have turned my plan upside down I am going to read over all the things I am going to do tomorrow (maybe). Swimming will almost definitely be one of them, I am going with a friend so it is much harder to get out of. The last time I went swimming was a total disaster but that’s a story for another time.

Until then,



I have had the busiest week! Lot’s of things to organise and lots of surprises, almost all of them good. As I am on a mission to improve my life and not suck at everything at the minute, I began my week by trying to eat healthily and fix my terrible sleeping pattern. Apparently these things up your energy?! It started well and I was feeling pretty good by the time by Thursday night kickboxing class rolled around. I was partnered with my cousin as we are at similar skill levels however there is a significant height difference between us! She is graduating next week and so requested that I avoid giving her any bruises so her photos weren’t ruined… fair enough! I hated my graduation photos so I didn’t want her feeling the same about hers. Then the end of the class rolled around and we were doing these spinny kick things and it all went wrong. We were both tired and frustrated as we were finding the kicks hard to do, when I turned and kicked, missed the pad and caught her hand. I ended up breaking her little finger! It all happened so quickly and I felt awful about it.

So that was the first unexpected event of the week. Then came the weekend. Me and my sister agreed to dog-sit for my Aunt and Uncle for 2 weeks while they went away, which I don’t mind doing because I get a house to myself and a focus for the week so I don’t get lazy. It’s now Sunday and the dog is still alive so I am optimistic about how I have done so far. We haven’t seen two out of three of their cats though so I am trying not to worry too much about that, cats roam free right?!

On Saturday my Mum had asked if me and Rosie (the twin) would like to have lunch with her. We agreed, and after a lot of grumbling at my boyfriend for taking his time getting ready, we made it to her house. And she wasn’t there. I figured she might be at a meeting at work so we decided to wait around while my boyfriend moaned about ‘rushing around for nothing’. He had a point, I just REALLY hate being late. After an hour, there was a knock at the door, which I answered and got the surprise of my life. My best friend who had been living in New Zealand for 9 months was standing on my doorstep. She told me she wasn’t back for another two weeks so I was completely bowled over and a lot of crying ensued! We spent the day chilling out and eating junk food and had a gossip, it was perfect. I haven’t ever really been surprised before so I am glad I reacted well and didn’t freeze up.

Now we have Sunday. Last night I saw an ad for a contest for aspiring actors. It was for ABC in America, and they wanted you to send in a recording of a script for judging and if you win, you get a deal with them. It had been up for weeks and was open to UK residents but the closing date was today at midnight and I panicked because I knew I HAD to enter it. So today I have been learning lines and desperately trying to pull together a well-performed scene to send off to them. It is being uploaded as we speak. I wish I had seen it earlier as I don’t think it’s my best work, but I think I did an okay job in the end. I bet thousands of people enter so if I am not expecting to be shortlisted but I would be dumb not to try. Imagine what a surprise that would be!!

I also got a call from a lady asking me to audition for a play in my local area, I am just not sure if I have the time. But if I say no, I will never know what other opportunities could have come from it.

I’m feeling pretty positive about next week. Hopefully I can get back on the good food wagon that I so often slip off!

Until then,


P.S. Here is a photo of my friend surprising me. Please ignore the Gryffindor jacket, I promise I am 25.


Relationship sabotage.

There are times in my life when I catch myself being a bad person. When my gossiping goes too far and I begin telling people things I REALLY shouldn’t. When I carelessly make jokes about other people’s insecurities to try and get a laugh from others. Or most recently, when I lose control of my emotions with my boyfriend because he wasn’t being exactly who I wanted him to be.

I am by no means a relationship expert. I have had 4 ‘serious’ boyfriends in the past 6 years but my current relationship has lasted the longest. I feel as though I spend a huge chunk of my time complaining to other women about my guy, even if he has spent the week being nothing but nice to me. He is a really good match for me – something confirmed to me by my mum who always knows – and yet I seem to spend my time searching for faults with him.

Over the weekend it was my boyfriends birthday. He hadn’t really been looking forward to it regardless of my building it up to be a big deal. Girls, in my experience, care more about being made a fuss of on their birthday than men do! We had gone out for a meal with his friends (4 guys) who I get on with well enough but tend to annoy me when I don’t have another girl around rolling their eyes with me. I had a good time but my BF wasn’t feeling too well so he dipped a bit and got grumpy, which I ignored because it was his birthday. We went to the pub after the meal and met up with other people, including some girls thankfully, and we split off and spent time with our own groups. And then something happened…. I don’t know why but something in me turned on my BF. He was off having a nice time with his friends and I suddenly felt this irritation that very rapidly turned into rage bubbling up inside me. All the tiny things that he had done that day that had annoyed me joined together and became this irrational monster that broke out of its cage. I ended up dragging my girlfriends upstairs and bursting into tears exclaiming that I couldn’t POSSIBLY be with someone that would be grumpy with me in front of his friends! Where does that even come from? I will be honest, I had just hit my time of the month but I didn’t know that at the time, but I had had this same rant a million times before regardless of my menstrual cycle.

I was angry with him all night and it probably ruined his birthday, which was a realisation I had when I woke up. Now 2 days later I am still riddled with guilt over how I acted and I have been trying to work out why it happened. I think I fell into the trap that many women fall into. My expectations are unrealistically high. I have spent nearly 2 years trying to improve my BF by moulding him into my own idea of Prince Charming. I tell him to stop making so many disgusting jokes, to stop socially smoking, to stop acting like a child when he is with his friends. The list goes on. I have seen other women have the same lengthy list as I do. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t expect men to adapt to being with us, flexibility is important in a relationship but the question is, is it treated as a one-way street? Do we expect people to change so much so that we are able to stay the same? I didn’t alter my behaviours much while in this relationship but my BF has done a lot of maturing and I am rushing him toward some imaginary finish line on perfection.

I have promised him to be more mindful of my responses in the future and it is something we are going to have to discuss on a regular basis to keep on the same page.

Just something to think about for the day.

25 years old?!

Last week I turned 25 years old. How did that happen? Only two minutes ago I was panicking about turning 24 and getting my life together, and in what feels like no time at all a year has flown by!

In all honesty, turning 25 didn’t bring the crippling anxiety that my brain had promised it would, instead I was greeted by a dull sense of panic that was much easier to deal with. This got me thinking about why 25 feels like a massive turning point for me. Is it because I have to check the 25-30 option when filling out forms? Or that people keep pointing out that I’m halfway to 50? Or maybe it’s the realisation that if I auditioned for the X Factor I would be entered into the ‘last chance’ 25 and Over category. In reality, it is probably none of these outside influences causing my heart to pick up pace. It’s all me and my little brain that isn’t on my side right now.

I remember being 13 years old and just starting high school, being surrounding by grownups who try and scare you into taking charge of your future. They tell you how important GCSE’s are, and that being a fully functioning and independent adult is just around the corner. I spent years combating this ridiculous notion by decorating my bedroom with as much Harry Potter memorabilia as possible and refusing to drink alcohol until I was legally allowed. I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was 18. Anything that most kids want to do to feel more mature, I moved away from entirely.

I mean, I am still well known as the girl who likes Harry Potter (I never managed to shake that particular obsession) but people don’t call me Naive anymore, so I guess I have grown. Being 13 or 15 makes 25 seem like a lifetime away. Those people have it together. They might not make much money but they have a house and a cute boyfriend and are on the path to reaching their dreams. Of course, I knew of the ‘failures’ who still live with their parents and have a job that they don’t really want, but that was NEVER going to be me.

And yet, here I sit, watching friends with a packet of biscuits at the house that I currently share with my Mum. I have spent the day thinking about work tomorrow at the local convenience store, after studying Drama at University and swearing I’d be a professional actress by now. So I guess I turned into one of those ‘failures’ I had envisioned in my head?

No. I’m not a failure. I don’t think anyone fails their 20’s. From what I have learnt in the past 5 years, everyone feels like they are doing things wrong at this age. The issue with social media is that everyone looks like they are having a better time than you, but that isn’t always true. I have a friend who has been living in New Zealand for a year now and I am crazy jealous of her life. But even she has told me how worried she is about finding a job when she gets home, as she has no idea what she wants to do for the rest of her life.

I have tried for the past week to give myself little goals to ensure I have something to be proud of. I could write a blog post, redecorate my room, audition for a local play, or even go for a run. It doesn’t really matter how life changing my success is, so long as I actually got on with it didn’t make an excuse. Maybe that is the secret to a relaxing 25th year? Well, I guess I will find out. And I will be sure to keep you posted.

Until then,

Thank you for reading!