They’re Not Your Friend

Being a teen is hard. Raising a teen is also hard. Getting, keeping and getting on with friends can also be hard. After attending a kids party  recently I realised how hard it is to make friends when you’re an adult and everyone already has their groups and aren’t willing to let an outsider in. It’s made me think back to my younger teenage self and what I would tell her about friends.

Friends. Who’d have ’em? Well, most of us hopefully in some form or other. Some people keep the same group of friends over the years, some have different groups of friends, some may even have none at all.

I lost my best school friend about a year after we’d finished comprehensive school, we’d gone to college to do different courses and during that time had made new friends from those respective courses. There was one girl in particular whom she had befriended who I didn’t take to. Just one of those things, you can’t like everyone so I just avoided her.  As time went on though it occurred to me she had an agenda. I had new boyfriend at the time and had confided in my BF that he was a bit too nice and I wasn’t sure where it would go and if he was the one for me. In turn my BF had told this girl (not sure why) who it turned out was also a mutual friend of my boyfriend. She then came to me and told me that if I didn’t tell him, she would. I was young, naive and so I finished with him rather than her drop me in it and cause a big scene, which looking back is obviously what she was hoping for.

The nail in the coffin however was when I’d gone out for the night clubbing with my new college friends I was aware that this girl was also there, as was my BF’s boyfriend – not together- but not my BF. I said “Hi!” to both at different times and thought no more of it. The next day however I got a distressed phone call from my BF asking me who the hell I thought I was kissing her boyfriend? When I asked her where on earth she’d got that idea from, in the back of my mind I already knew. Of course it was her, lighting the fuse and standing back as it went off. My BF was devastated, understandably as she thought her boyfriend and I had cheated but other than the quick hello I’d not even been near him. I was really angry that not only was I being accused of something I hadn’t done but that she blatantly believed it. We were never really friends afterwards and whilst it all seems very childish now but at the time it seemed the end of the world.

With those things filed under experience these are the things I’d tell my younger self and my own teen about friends.

• If they put you down and make you feel shit about yourself? They’re not your friend.

• If they let you down time and time again? They’re not your friend.

• If they try it on with your significant other or even just someone you’ve told them you have ‘a thing’ for? They’re not your friend.

• If they make snidey comments about you either to you face or behind your back? They’re not your friend.

• If they constantly ask for favours but never return them? They’re not your friend.

• If you’ve asked tactfully or otherwise not to say things that upset you and they still do? They’re not your friend.

• If they try to get you to do something they know you’re not comfortable with? They’re not your friend.

• If they tell lies about you or anyone else to make themselves look good or get their own way? They’re not your friend.

Basically what I’m trying to say is if they don’t treat you with respect you don’t have to put up with it just because you think you’ll have no friends. You WILL make new ones. Your life will go in all sorts of different directions and you just never know what’s around the corner.

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Sibling Solidarity

I have only 1 sibling. Amongst other choice things he’s called Justin. He’s 11 months younger than me. We’ve always joked about my Mum being ‘at it’ in the taxi home from the hospital after having me because we were born so close together.

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We got on as kids. Most of the time. Other times we stabbed each other in the thigh with a fork. We played outdoors for hours on end in the summer holidays, bike rides, roller skates and playing kerby’s were what we did.

One time when we were 7 or 8 he was riding a Batman motorbike, god knows where he got it from. It was made of plastic, a bit flimsy and we were all stood at the bottom of the hill shouting ‘na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na BATMAAAN’ only the bike got a bit excited and he couldn’t stop it. Eyes wide he went over to the side like a motorcyclist. It was summer, flesh on show. Did I rush in terror towards him to help? Did I hell. I pissed my pants laughing. If you go back there you’ll probably find half his skin embedded into the tarmac.

I was a cow to him sometimes, when we fought i’d wallop him. He’d take it quietly then when he gave me a wallop back I’d shout really loud so Mum would hear and tell him off or give him a smacked arse. You’d think he’d have learned after the first 22 times but no. Although in fairness he did try to kill me at least once.

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Eating food in our house was a serious affair. You sat at the table quietly, always with knife and fork held properly, elbows off the table. We lived on a council estate but I think my Mum was a Hyacinth Bucket wannabe. Not a bad thing looking back now but I was always jealous of my mates who sat watching He-Man with their burger ‘n’ beans precariously balanced on their knees.  Only he knew I was (and still am) a giggler. Absolutely anything would set me off and he’d sit opposite me making faces. The amount of times I got sent to sit in the draughty hallway to ‘think about my behaviour’ with a rumbly tummy was unreal.

He laughed when I got caught throwing my steak and kidney pie out of the bathroom window and I covered for him when he hid his potatoes in the Xmas crackers. No matter how many times he told Nan he hated potatoes they ended up on his plate.

We’d have secret meetings on the landing and sneak downstairs when the little old lady that babysat us wasn’t looking and watch Prisoner Cell Block H through a 3 mm gap behind the brown and orange sofa. We’d smirk at each other in the morning when we were being praised for being so well behaved.

When it came to moving out he came to stay with my friend and I who thought we were the kiddies, we argued a lot but we also shared the good and bad times. We’d sit, down to our last pennies pulling the tobacco out of dog ends in the house ashtray to make a roley or share a bag of Space Raiders with the last few pence we could find down the sofa.

When we went home to visit we scared the crap out of each other with a china doll my Mum was given as a present, hiding it in each others bed and cars with a knife in it’s hand. She still has that creepy shit sat on a wicker chair on the landing of her creepy old house. I swear she watches me walk around smiling about the time I found her late at night in the boot of my car with a meat cleaver poised to kill me.

One thing we’ve always shared though is our sense of humour. Those times when I sit crying laughing at something, the one person I know who will always get it is him. He’s a right royal pain in the arse at times but we’ve always stuck together through good and bad and I wouldn’t do without him. 

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Candyland Halloween Sweet Champions Review

This has to be one of my favourite review posts of all time! Opening the bags I’m transported back to my childhood – a time before I had a dodgy perm and braces. The days when your Mum said you could have a 10p mix up and you got Black Jacks and Fruit Salads. The times whilst at comp we’d have an actual ice cream van on the school grounds at lunchtime and we’d have a naughty Wham bar and Astro belt after the ham roll hastily shoved in our gobs!


We got to try out a Candyland 200g Sweet Champions Halloween assorted mix and a 300g Sweet Champions Halloween lollies pouch. This time there’s a bit of a twist some of those well loved favourites are now in lolly form. Exciting stuff. The kids looked on incredulous as their Dad & I reminisced about turning our tongues black and how they still taste exactly the same. I can’t believe I’d forgotten that cola Frosties were absolutely my favourite sweets and somehow they managed to find their way into my handbag 😉

They both contain Black Jack, Fruit Salad, Dip Dab & Refreshers lollies and the Halloween mix bag also has Original, Brew and Strawberry Wham bars which can confirm are just as yummy as they always were!

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The kids of course had a try, I the Refreshers and Fruit Salad lollies seemed to be the firm favourites for them. These would make a great choice for your trick or treaters, without breaking the bank.  We do tend to get a lot of callers so it makes sense to stock up on inexpensive treats. I love it though, so lovely to see little ones in their costumes. Since we munched our way through most of them I’ll have to buy some more before Halloween 😉

Sweet Champions Halloween 200g Assorted Bag MRRSP £1 available from Tesco, Asda and Sainsburys.

Sweet Champions Halloween 300g Lolly Pouch MRRSP £2 from Asda

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*We were sent the sweets free for the purposes of this review however all opinions remain honest and our own*

Nineties Nonsense

Growing up for me  was, I imagine like growing up for anyone who was a teen in the 90’s, I spent my evenings ‘down the leisure’ I ate bags of beef Space Raiders and chips in cones made to look like newspaper, played Street Fighter on the arcade machine and drank Lilt. Elbowed my mates when one or other of our crushes walked past and talked about what a slag Kerry was ‘cos she let Barry do something naughty to her outside the fire exit.

I used Salon Selectives but I definitely didn’t look like I’d ‘just stepped out of the salon’ it did smell nice however, once it was clean it was time to spray it within an inch of it’s life with Silvikrin whilst scrunching. Surprised we didn’t all end up with clawed hands because of it. Fire hazard be buggered, took your life in your hands every time you lit up a sneaky fag, some dippy git told me to wrap chewing gum round my fingers so my Mum couldn’t smell the smoke – did it work? Did it hell!

 

I wore Cover Girl foundation that I won from a competition in a magazine. My Mum would never have let me have it otherwise – wouldn’t want me ruining my lovely young skin see. I can still remember the smell of that stuff to this day. It’s highly likely I looked like Casper the friendly ghost – not that I cared I was grown up obviously! I wore Heather Shimmer lipstick. Think everyone in my school/town/country did. Good job there’s not an awful lot of photo evidence around it’s really cringeworthy stuff.

I had a luminous pink Hi-Tec bag that I could have fitted my whole family in and more. I had those horrible white daps (plimsoles for those not from Wales) with a heel and those really shiny flesh coloured tights that made your legs look like sparkly sausages.  I wore ankle length wrap skirts (not good in a gust of wind) with a body underneath. Those poppers were a bit of a twat when you were busting. I read somewhere recently they were making a comeback. Well sod that!

I bought all my single cassette tapes from Woolworths. This is back in the day when Woolworths was the best shop in town (well our town anyway which didn’t have that much other than the ‘Big Tesco’).

I called him Mr. Raider, called him Mr. Wrong, called him Mr. Vain and couldn’t say no to anyone without saying the full No no, no no no no, no no no no, no no there’s no limit! I watched Bad Girls, Band of Gold, Bottom and Byker Grove.


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As much as loved being a teenager in the 90’s and so many things were better then I really wouldn’t want to go back and do it all again. Especially all the boy trouble, let’s be honest many teenage lads are complete arseholes! The fashion wasn’t exactly anything to write home about either – black velvet choker anyone?!

Julie x (2)

Crap we believed as kids!

Funny how much stupid stuff was rumoured when we were kids and when you’re young you believe all sorts of nonsense. Every school/town/city has it’s own “urban myths” and ours was just the same. This post was inspired by Julian at Northern Dad Blog with his post about school in the 80’s it’s hilarious, have a read 🙂

Crap we believed as kids!

•To get to our school we had to walk through a graveyard (nice) and one of the graves had an angel sat on top. Rumour had it that if you ran around it 3 times it would open it’s eyes. I ran around it 3 times. Did she open her eyes? Search me, I was out of there like a rat up a drainpipe. I wasn’t sticking round to find out. Hard as nails me…

•The cottage next to the school housed a witch. Honest. Mandy’s cousins aunty’s friend told my brother that he saw her warts and all. If your ball goes in her garden and you go in there to get it she’ll get you. Then eat you. In all the years I went to that primary school I never once saw who lived there. Maybe that’s not a bad thing…

•There were devil worshippers at the tower in the hills. They sacrificed humans so don’t even think about going camping, they’ll dance round a fire with torches and chop random bits of you off. This could possibly be true I suppose but who the heck wants to find out?!!

•The man who ran the local bakery did unspeakable things with his doughnuts. As you do. Poor guy had to get the holes in them somehow didn’t he?! Chelsea buns were ok though. Well I bloody hope they were because I took a bit of a liking to them.  They never did me any harm anyway.

•When we went on a school trip -mountain climbing/outdoor pursuits style trip – that involved a stay over, one particular trip had the dormitory backing onto a graveyard (there’s a theme here) and written all over the delightful plastic waterproof mattresses were warnings about the “Black Nun” who of course would get you if you dared to go to sleep. This was written amongst the disgusting “Roses are Red” dirty poems that weren’t in the slightest bit funny 😀 all fun and games til 3am and you’re all terrified to sleep and the teacher wanders in in her best nightie and her hair all over the place. But it’s dark so you don’t realise it’s her to start with so you scream and then she screams because you startled her and then you get a right bollocking for messing about.

•Whenever you went on a school trip (as above) at least 2 of the teachers were having an affair. Whether they were happily married and 1 was at least 100 and the other 30 made no difference, every look, every laugh triggered much elbowing, sniggering and “see, I told you they were shagging” I very much doubt they were though. I imagine they were far too stressed after a day with us little gits to have the energy for shenanigans!

I wouldn’t change it for anything though, it’s all part of growing up isn’t it. Next time you have a doughnut you might want to check the size of the hole the jam comes out of though 😉

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A Cornish Mum