Monday, 30 September 2013

Dear Diary | Loneliness

I have written a couple of posts about loneliness (HERE and HERE) and for me, I actually enjoy being alone sometimes. Despite having fab family and friends, being by myself, for me, can be freeing. Today, however, I felt the very opposite of being content with the feeling of loneliness.

I felt like I was living in a silent movie; watching everyone talk as if with subtitles because I had to focus really hard to think about anything other than a sad feeling rising in my gut. I felt slightly self-absorbed but that really isn't always wrong. I don't think it's bad to feel sorry for yourself but, today, I really did and I didn't enjoy it all that much (not that anyone does).

I think my loneliness was triggered by a mixture of things: panic, fear and stress. I had loads of people around me, but I felt very alone. Every now and then I get the feeling that I don't belong. Today was very much so one of those days. All in one moment, I suddenly felt very isolated. It was most definitely not because of my amazing friends, I just felt like I didn't have a set place at college. It was kind of soul-destroying for a moment or two (a day) but it is passing and very close to being passed. Also, suddenly, everything future wise became all too stressful which, in turn did not make me feel much better.

I am writing this post as I know that loneliness hits us sometimes, more for some and less for others. I hope that you, if you ever get lonely, know that there are, even if you can't see them, so many reasons for you not to be lonely. I wasn't actually alone today but that's not really what loneliness is always about. I could have and should have turned to someone who would want to hear me talk about it to make me at ease and I know that now. I hope you're having the best day and if not, I'm sending you lots of virtual smiles and shooting stars.

As emotion is a good starter for writing, I thought I'd get a bit personal with you today, starting a new "series", if you like, called "Dear Diary". I'm not one for personal posts that are very much related to my life but I wanted to type type type my worries away. I hope you didn't mind it!

I think I might go and watch a non-silent movies so I can find my own voice.

Magic & Confetti Stars,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Friday, 27 September 2013

The Awkward Apocalypse

Almost two decades ago* the world was about to experience something that could only be described as *deepens voice and speaks in a strong, yet whispery tone* The Awkward Apocalypse. It consists of kids wishing they were born in the 1980s, wearing endless tie-dye shirts, listening to The Beatles and supporting big hair; it consists of kids growing up with the best cartoons and wishing to be back in those days every second of the present day; it consists of a lot of love, a pinch of hate and a  rather large amount of respect for bacon.

This phenomenon, to those who are only familiar with penny sweets and a life without internet, is my generation.

My generation is a huge contradiction. We are named the generation of no responsibility and yet we have endless pressure piled on our shoulders; we are a generation with a better outlook on life than any other generation before when it comes to any disgusting phobia or outlook but yet we are named the devils of the human world.

Welcome to my generation.

Kids are "growing up too fast": acting old before their age, whilst they think like Peter Pan: wishing they could never grow up. Everyone wants to look older, years older than their real age and yet when "older" is reached, they regret the days they craved for adulthood. Then there are those wanting to stay in one place, wanting to not progress to the next natural step in adolescence but are forced to live a life a few years older. You go on the bus and there's no way that a thirteen year old is a thirteen year old: an adult fare, you'll be charged. Mr. Bus Driver, it really was just mascara; she really was just thirteen. No one's to blame, but in the confusion of kids making themselves appear older and adults believing it, you're making us out of pocket!

Why, you ask, are we inclined to live this way? There is no real answer, my confused friend. We're talkin' 'bout my generation.

We seem to long for independence, to be able to live like adults in a not-yet-adult-but-so-close-body.

"The 'Awkward Apocalypse', you say?" Oh, where to start... Here lies the awkward turtle, the "awkward moment when" and the "OMG AWKWARD" years. Oh you're in for an awkward treat. "Why is it awkward?" Kids of 2050, you have just hit the nail on the head. Why is it awkward? I have a theory: We spent such a short but memorable while living the Kid Life like our parents; playing with toys and enjoying the real world, hitting twigs against a tree for an hour straight, that when internet existed, we were overwhelmed. We were the first generation to experience it, to really succumb to the powers that drew us in: online games; instant messaging; the programme Paint (my personal favourite). This made our minds close down to social interaction, thereby isolating real life situations from our capacity of understanding. In turn, anything that was slightly more out there than we were used to was deemed "awkward." How very awkward, indeed.

An apocalypse is "the complete final destruction of the world." In this case, it's the destruction of innocence.

Irony. We seem to always want to be ironic. I remember finding it "so totes annoying" that people would say "omg" in real life and then thinking, "wait, I'm saying 'totes'". I got so lost in the anger of what's becoming our society that I ignored the fact that I had too. I said (and say) things like "amazeballs" and "lol" ironically so often that it just became part of my vocabulary. Before long I wasn't being ironic anymore. It all became too real.

I, despite our flaws, like my generation. Maybe we're less ignorant to other generations before us because our OTPs are two males but we are less ignorant and more tolerable and that's all that counts and maybe, we find meaning when there isn't any and we don't when there is but here's one thing I know for sure: a lot of the time, we're speaking sense.

We're a confused but wonderful generation

Cartoons & Leg Warmers (the second time around),

The Girl in the Moonlight.

*I'd probably consider the people slotting right into the image of this post were born between 1990 and 2000, give or take a few years.

Wednesday, 25 September 2013

McFly, Galaxy Defenders and Royal Albert Hall

So, last Thursday I saw - yes, you guessed it - McFly. I saw my four favourite guys perform their hearts out at the Royal Albert Hall at one of their four special concerts.

I didn't believe I was going beforehand; it seemed so unbelievable that I was seeing my favourite band's 10th anniversary concert. I was on the train, grinning my way through the journey, bobbing up and down to McFly in my ears before I was finally at the Royal Albert Hall; the beautiful building where the people who I have adored for more of my life than I haven't were about to rock my face off - or maybe my socks, I'm not too sure.

Sat in my seat, merchandise bought, I was ready.

It was time.

We all stood.

And then the tears.

From the very start it was emotional; I was in floods as celebrities and fans said their "well done"s and "thank you"s on the screen and then they played early songs and my emotion heightened. They went through the perfect set, toying easily with my emotions and I loved it.

Everything about it was perfect. I was in a place full of nothing but Galaxy Defenders, people exactly like me, holding on to every last note that was sung and every last beat that was beat and every last moment of the most perfect night. Of course, Busted performing with McFly was, well, fantabulous. It was such a crazy atmosphere when they came on, memories and excitement buzzing off each particle in the room. McFly really took me down a fabulous tour down memory lane and a slight peak into the wonderful future of McFly.

It's time to talk about Love is on the Radio.

Love is on the Radio is McFly's upcoming single and I saw it performed for the first time on stage and I love the song so dang much. I haven't stopped listening to it. I love the Texas-inspired-twang, the lyrics, the melody and most of all that McFly are so content with their music and I'll tell you something for sure: so are every McFly fan and I.

Being in a room with all of these people just like me was electrifying. A few times I looked back at the crowd and the pride and happiness I felt was unreal. These people were singing like never before, just like me, hands in the air, feeling the best feeling in their stomachs, just like me.

The anticipation for these concerts has been like nothing before. McFly's excitement and passion for the show was reflected before and during the concert and it made it that kind of special that's hard to write in words. It was a show where everything from the last ten years was as obvious as McFly's happiness. Reflecting on the last decade was incredible and Tom's creation: McFly The Musical allowed us all to laugh and cry and appreciate that we love the best band in the galaxy. Tom sung and showed how much McFly means to him, reflecting just how much it means to us.

Thank you so much McFly for the most incredible show. I can't wait for the next for ever.

Violins & Opera Singing,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

P.s. I'm trying so hard with adding pictures to my blog - I know this one is, well... wonky, but the Leaning Tower of Pisa is beautiful so I've just adjusted the prestigious Royal Albert Hall for this post!

The last time I saw McFly!

Friday, 20 September 2013


Blogtember, September 20th: React to this term: comfort

I think comfort's definition changes from person to person, the fundamental meaning underlined somewhere in whoever's definition: ease, freedom from pain, solace.

Comfort is finding a flower on a not-so-perfect day.

To me, comfort is waking up, knowing that I have another day to work towards whatever my goal is and if I don't achieve it: I've got plenty more days to do so. It's having a bad day or a good day or a normal "well, it's over day" and putting in my earphones and listening to McFly. Comfort is having the best day with my favourite people. Comfort is rain outside when I'm snuggled up in a big jumper drinking hot chocolate, watching a film. Comfort is a feeling of happiness and content. It's going to bed and smiling. It's dreaming and the feeling of fuzziness and sharing a laugh with my brother. Comfort is having a horribly stressful day and getting home to an atmosphere where I can get my thoughts straight; letting my family make me feel happier. Comfort is knowing that I'm doing the best I can. It's looking back at old photographs and smiling, memories flooding in. Comfort, to me, is feeling happiness with my situation.

Sometimes, comfort is threatened but it's also fixable and, when I lose, I'll soon be back to feeling warm and happy on the coldest day. For many people, comfort is something to be searched for; it's an abstract clarification that you're safe and things aren't going to change. That's what I always thought comfort meant. Although I definitely think it does, I think comfort can be many things. What's comfort for you? Let me know!

White Roses & Solace,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Check out Blogtember here:

Thursday, 19 September 2013

Eyes Opened

Blogtember, September 19th write a (very short) fictional story that starts with this sentence: "To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century."

To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century.

A year had passed. A year and eleven days. A year and eleven days, about three hundred sympathetic eyes (multiplied by each time I was in their company), way too many lonely moons and even more liquid sin on my mother's behalf.

The rain was quiet beneath the sound of my mother's whimpers two doors away. I tuned them out the way I had learnt about six months ago, when no amount of talking, tea and my attempts at comfort was ever enough. I folded the newly-washed tea towels, I washed the side and cut mum's sandwich - that wouldn't be eaten - into two.

Moving quickly because I would definitely be late, I took a breath and knocked on the living room door. I didn't wait for an answer, walking in to be greeted by a smell that had become their house's scent. I cringed but showed no sign of discomfort. My mother, sprawled across the carpet craned her neck and looked at me; well, through me. She looked back at her hands. I didn't even bother addressing why I was there. She knew. I placed the plate down where I always did, opened the curtains slightly and closed the door again.

Back against the door, I let my eyes be free from the light that seemed too yellow, for just a second.

 *  *  *

He watches her, seeing everything the world saw: beauty, happiness and a laugh so pure and beautiful. He was just as in love with her now as he was twenty years before. She had barely changed. Sure, she has a few lines more than she did at seventeen and there are slight - only slight - shadows beneath her young eyes. Yet, he was ignorant.

She laughed her own melody and he turned to Flame. "How's it going Flay?"

"Just got them!" Flame says.

After she brings back the crisps and cake, he kisses his daughter's forehead and Flame grins as if she were still a toddler. "I live for days like this, you know."

Flame nods. "I know."

*  *  *

I felt myself drift through the high-street, past the car park and through the field.

Every year my auntie Deb holds a dinner party. She makes grand cakes and scones, even lemonade and jam. She makes strawberry jam, raspberry, blueberry and cherry. She puts up decorations and her knitted table cloth is placed proudly over the dining room table and fills glasses on the coffee table with breadsticks. She makes her own CD full of old classics and songs she thinks are 'cool as cucumber' and photographs every moment. My uncles dance and my cousins scream. Every year there are more people: Auntie Deb's workmates, neighbours, paperboys. It's the talk of the family for weeks after.

Last year was less lively than normal. Every time someone braved a topic change, someone related it to him and told a story, a memory of him.

I stopped just before I reached the front of my auntie's house and took a breath. This will be worse than horrible; my relatives will fuss over me and show how terribly sorry they are and attempt to make sure I'm smiling at every moment. I know they truly do feel bad for me and that's fine but it was so tiring. It will be over soon.

I approached the door with as much confidence as I could muster and rung the doorbell.

There it was.

A pair of Eyes of Sympathy.

"Hey Uncle Jon," I made sure my eyes met with his only briefly.

"Hi there sweetheart. How are you doing?"

The first 'how are you?' of the afternoon.

I chatted with Jon until I reached the living room and all conversations came to a sudden silence.

I made myself smile to the crowds of people in auntie Deb's living room. Everything looked too small.

There was a boy about my age, maybe a year older, maybe nineteen sitting next to my auntie Deb. He had green eyes that were obvious a few feet away and floppy brown hair that stuck up in all the right places. He had long, dark eyelashes, the kind that made girls jealous. I looked down when his eyes rose to mine. He was about to give me the sympathy look.

My eyes felt heavy.

*  *  *

He breathes an uneasy breath, forming a cloud in the early August air.

Flame bites her lip. She couldn't cry. Not now.

"Flay..." he tries.

"Everything's fine. I'm here," is all she could manage.

"I know," he almost whispers. "With... With you by my," he coughs and winces at the gash on his hand. "With you by my side, I know everything's fine. Life is the best it could be."

Flame felt her heart quicken, she felt it stop, feel comfort in his words and break all at the same time.

From the corner of her eye Flame can see bright yellow. She wonders whether the sun's coming up and she hadn't noticed. Then she heard a voice whisper that she was trying to be protected from, only she could hear, "the time has come." There would be no sunshine.
She turns back and can see he's struggling. "I love you so much," she says and then all at once, she can't stop, "I love you. I love you. I couldn't have a better-"

"Sweetie," he stammers and manages to say through a cracked breath "I love you."


"Dad," Flame whispers. "Dad, dad. You can't go. Mum hasn't said goodbye. Dad, I love you. Dad."

She sees the bright yellow again. She feels the paramedic's hand on my back but this was no comfort. She feels nothing. I watch as the man calls the time and closes my father's eyes.

*  *  *

I brought my eyes back to his, finding strength somewhere in my gut. I was ready for a new pity stare by a new, so-upset-by-my-story person.

"Hey there," the boy smiled, approaching me as noise filled the room, relatives finally chatted away animatedly.

I searched. My eyes darted around his face for a few seconds, looking for some kind of sadness, some form of grief for me. Instead I found freckles, a slight smile and, what stood out the most: eyes that smiled.

"I can help you escape."

"Pardon?" I managed beneath his stare.

"They have cards. All of them. Debbie has one that reads 'A year has passed, but memories stay, our love for him, still here today.'"

I felt myself laugh and he grinned back at me. Last year was a like a second funeral but under the influence of his grin, I felt like this one might be almost bearable.

"I'm Tommy."

For a brief second I closed my eyes and felt a brief wave of tranquillity. I felt a smile at my lips and opened my eyes.

Find out about Blogtember here:

Wednesday, 18 September 2013

The Dinosaur That Pooped A Planet

Being a kid at heart, when The Dinosaur Pooped Christmas came out, I was mighty excited, having it in my hands as soon as I could. Now, The Dinosaur That Pooped A Planet is out, by the awesome creators, Tom Fletcher and Dougie Poynter, I am over the moon made out of... poop.

Good camera work there. No, really, great job! (Sarcasm, ha!)

What could possibly match the awesomeness of poop and Christmas? Well, my friends, that would be poop and space, with an overlying allegory of the necessity to bring your lunchbox with you when you're out for lunch!

Think of the question you've always wanted to know. I know exactly what you're thinking: "What happens when a hungry dinosaur is unleashed in space?" Well, you're in for a treat. With robots and cats and the exciting adventure of being hungry in space, The Dinosaur That Pooped A Planet really is a hoot and a half! All 5 feet and a few inches of me laughed their way through this story as well as all of my family and friends. I've already got copies ready for all of my young relatives to enjoy - as well as my best friends!
When I was younger, rhyming books were the best things and so this is the best gift for any child - and McFly fan! It will make children grin and you'll have a little giggle at, well... poo! I honestly - fangirlness aside - think that it's a fabulous children's book with exciting illustrations! Buy it HERE.
Planets & Rockets,
The Girl in the Moonlight. 

Monday, 16 September 2013

To My Best Friend

Blogtember, September 16: Write a public love letter to someone in your life. (It doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic.)

To my best friend,

When we were younger, you and I only ever saw our future as being us and the world. It never occurred to us that we wouldn't be joint at the hip every step of the way. We were going to buy a house together, work in the same workplace, go on holiday together; we were going to do everything, just you and I. We'd always laugh about being old ladies rocking on our chairs on the porch one day, drinking tea and still eating too much chocolate!

Even though, now, some of this won't be true anymore (you and I soon realised after we went to different schools years ago *sad face*) - although we still bank on holidays together and being old ladies together - as we have our own ambitions and futures, you and I know that, when we think of our best friend, I'll say your name and you'll say mine. I think that's important: We could be anywhere, in any situation and we'll always be best friends.

Our friendship, to me, is a very personal thing. We can have the silliest, funniest time together (do you remember when we ate two boxes of ice cream and burst into laughter for minutes on end?) and the day can end with us confessing our deepest thoughts, both of us crying at each other, yet smiling at ourselves, our friendship. I've never had someone that I've connected (wow, deep) with as much as I am with you and I think our friendship is lovely and rare in my life.

We may not be around each other 24/7, not even always in each other's company once a week, but we'll always be best friends. We'll always have afternoons where all we do is eat and days discussing our biggest dreams for the future, each other egging the other on. We've always been the friends that are genuinely proud when the other achieves something. We've always thrived in each other's company. I love that about us.

I addressed this letter to you because we've been best friends for so long and I love you so much. We have the best time together and I'm so proud to call such a thoughtful, funny, intelligent, strong (in more ways the one!) and beautiful person my bestest friend.

I can't wait to see our adventures unfold.

Whipped Cream & Marshmallows,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Check out Blogtember here:

Friday, 13 September 2013

Writing Woes and Wonders

When I was younger I'd always write stories; I loved it. I would be in my element. I enjoyed manipulating people's feelings, creating another world and weaving troubles in between happiness and also the build up to the end of the storm. I enjoyed messing around with words, making something with the same meaning, appear better by just switching a few words around and adding another. I did so, secretly. Oh, how I didn't want a soul to know. So, I'd sit in my room on my big computer and write away. I'd write nonsense but it was okay because it was my rainbow.

However, the happiness I got from writing these stories secretly was always shadowed by my embarrassment.

"Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know."

Now, I face other woes with writing my blog.

I feel vulnerable writing. My heart feels clouded by fear that I'm putting too many of my feelings out there, on the sometimes scary, dark internet. Writing is sometimes, for me, about being honest, making things raw. However, when I want to type something but not open up too much, with the fear of overdoing it, my spirits are dampened.

My fear of not being good sometimes rains on my parade. It can cause me to be a little scared of letting my fingers tap away at the keyboard. It can be restricting. What if I'm writing gibberish? What if no one understands the point I'm trying to make? What if, anyone who reads this is just thinking: "What is this garbage?"

I've outlined the downside, for me, about writing but now let me tell you about the side that makes me see sunshine on an English September day, a rainbow when there's continuous rain and blue skies when clouds are distorting my happiness. (Jeesh, give it up already!)

Writing makes me excited. I could be out shopping and suddenly, a thought will shine above everything else and I'll be planning what I'm to write. I could be anywhere in my bubble of life and, suddenly, something will catch my eye and I'll have something to write about. This excites me a lot. It's the endless possibilities of having something I didn't know about in the morning to write about when I'm back at my laptop, ready to finally let my thoughts be written.

Writing is my place to go when I want to rant, express happiness or put my thoughts into chunks of text. It's the thing that makes me sigh with happiness: I get my point of view across somehow.

Writing allows me to put my umbrella down when rain is falling and dance in it; it makes me brave. I write things that I couldn't possibly say aloud, things I wouldn't have the courage to come to a conclusion about normally. For example, I can take an abstract idea, like, love and pour my thoughts into something more solid than a fleeting pondering. I don't always like that writing makes me vulnerable, but sometimes, I do. However, I also write things that I am passionate about, things that I want the world to know that I see the sad eclipse something may bring (yes, I'm talking about my plethora of posts on gay rights). I enjoy being able to write things that allow me to think outside of the box. It's exciting and challenging.

Writing makes me happy when things aren't always bright. I can go to my room and type away, letting any sadness lessen because I'm doing something I love. Although I fear how bad I may be, it also doesn't matter to me because writing brings me joy when my head feels like thunder.

I'm not a blogger with an amount of followers that is incomprehensible; I don't get tens of comments (in fact, I never have!) on my posts; I don't get hundreds and hundreds of views on each post I publish. Yet, that's ok. I (as I'm sure those on the opposite side of the blogger spectrum do too) appreciate every follower, every comment and every view. Why? That'll be because I didn't start blogging to have all of the crazy stuff: I did it because I love writing. That's why writing's wonderful. It's personal. It's eye opening. You can explore a subject and come to a conclusion all in one moment. It's exciting.

If you're like me and a little apprehensive, nervous and embarrassed about writing: You shouldn't be. Writing is your thing. Writing may be your haven. I choose not to show people, but I love it more than I am embarrassed by it because it's all of the above and so much more.

Clouded Skies & Green Grass,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Wednesday, 11 September 2013

First Impressions

After reading Zoe's back to school post, I had to write a post about first impressions.

Zoe said something about herself that, finally, after years, described my feelings about being faced with first impressions. I worry that people, when they first meet me, think I'm shy. Being shy is not a bad thing and there are situations where I will be shy. My problem is, I don't want someone to pin me down, label me as soon as they meet me. It could, in turn, stop certain relationships and restrict me being the very best version of myself. There are three reasons I wouldn't want people to label me as "shy-just-shy" straight away (as I wouldn't label others it): Firstly I am not a shy person and secondly, after people thinking I'm shy, I won't always show them who I really am because I'm so bogged down with their opinion and if I was a very shy person, that wouldn't be all that there is to me and more importantly, it wouldn't be the most important aspect of my personality.

I have learnt, however that first impressions don't matter. It's a simple as that. It doesn't stop us worrying about it, but I know my fear of first impressions has definitely lessened. First impressions reflect more on the person casting them than they do the subject.

Therefore, I try oh so hard to not make those first impressions of others. I don't always succeed which sounds hypocritical - and well, it is. Sometimes I'm faced with people who have done something that may strike me as horrible, rude or scary. I will, in turn, become sheltered from them - become shy, maybe. This is unfair. I may have caught them at a bad moment or completely misread the situation. Alternatively, I may have got it just right but that doesn't make me right for labelling them. So, I make a conscious effort not to do this when meeting new people.

I met this girl years and years ago and from the start we didn't like each other. We were very young but for no reason I didn't like her and she didn't like me. We didn't talk and we didn't try to until one day, we did. Guess what? She's my best friend. Both my best friend and I actually aren't the type of people to not like people (we were very young) but from what we can remember, we did and now she is one of my favourite people ever.

If you've just started somewhere new and you're worried or anxious about first impressions or anything else, I can tell you that everyone feels the same and there's (although this may not stop you feeling it) no need for you to be. Everything will be ok!

Have you started somewhere new? Or do you remember feeling anxious after starting somewhere new? Have you been wrong about someone and now think they are great?

Jumpers & Socks,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Monday, 9 September 2013

The Liebster Award

The Liebster Award is a blogging tag where, after being nominated by someone, you are to answer ten questions that the person who tagged you asked. You then tag ten other blogs who are to answer ten questions that you made up!

As for any awesome thing, the tag has rules:

Uno. The tagged blogs must have less than 200 followers
Dos. In your response, the person who tagged you should be mentioned
Tres. So those who you tag can respond, you should let them know!

I was tagged by the fantastical Lulu from luluslittlebiglife.

These are the questions I was asked:

1. When you bake what is your go to thing to make?
Although I love a good baking session with new things or big things, I'm a sucker for just quickly making some fairy/butterfly cakes (and then proceeding to eat most of the eighteen in one sitting).

2. What is your favourite book?
This question has made me sweat a little as I have so many favourite books. So, excluding the Harry Potter series and The Hunger Games series, I'm going to just say the most recent favourite book of mine: The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.

3. What item of clothing are you wearing the most at the moment?
I feel like as soon as my baggy red jumper from Topshop is back from being washed, I wear it!

4. Cardigans or jumpers?
My life is very jumpers galore!

5. Would you rather not wash your hair for 2 weeks or go 2 weeks without wearing any makeup?
I would go two weeks without wearing any makeup.

6. What is your favourite fast food?
Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, oh and pizza!

7. City that you would love to live in one day?
I would love to live in New York because everything about it sounds exciting: pretty sights, shops and the accent!

8. What are your makeup essentials?
I would say that Barry M nail varnish makes me happiest, but I also love sea salt spray and Benefit They're Real mascara.

9. Who is your favourite blogger?
I love too many blogs but because it was Sprinkle of Glitter's and Zoella's that introduced me into the world of blogging, I must give them the title.

10. If you haven't already would you consider making youtube videos?
I love watching people's youtube videos and am in love with a few too many youtubers but I, personally, wouldn't make videos because my personality doesn't really suit it and I prefer putting thoughts and events into words.
The fabulous blogs I am tagging:
Ooooo, I do love a bit of centralised text!
Questions for you to answer:
1. What is your favourite flower?
2. What would your number one blogging tip be?

3. What's your favourite season and why?

4. What would your ideal way to spend a rainy night doing be? (PG please guys, ha!)

5. Why did you start blogging?

6. If we were playing one of those "get to know each other" games, what would your fact about yourself be?

7. If you could go to any other country right now, where would you go?

8. What is your favourite type of book AND blogpost to read?

9. What is it about blogging that you love the most?

10. What is your favourite social media website?
To round up this post, I'd like to say a big, warm thank you to Lulu and to those who I've tagged, please let me know when you respond (if you do) and send me a link to the post! I think The Liebster Award is amazing. Not only does it raise awareness of smaller blogs, it's fun! I was so excited writing the whole of this post! A sense of unity is created with things like this so definitely check out the blogs I've tagged and also Lulu too!
Fairy wings & Buttercream,
The Girl in the Moonlight.

P.s. I don't think anyone I've nominated has been nominated before. If you have and I've nominated you (sorry!), please let me know if you can so I can tag someone else! Thank you!

Friday, 6 September 2013

The Loveliest Things in Life #2

A couple of months ago I wrote a blogpost about The Loveliest Things in Life but I know I missed a lot of things off of the list.

Making someone smile.

One of my favourite feelings is the fuzzy feeling I get in the evening after making someone smile. Some may call it an ego boost but being on this planet, for me, it is vital that people know I appreciate them and that, in turn, they'll remember me, in the course of time, for doing something nice. It might be writing my best friend a letter, sitting in the living room with my mum or telling a stranger I like their coat. It all counts.

When it comes to friends, I know it's important to make them smile for no reason at all or at a time when they really need it. It might be when they're perfectly happy or when they're upset. It could be as simple as sending them a text or having an hour long call with them (you know the ones where you hang up smiling). I might surprise them with their favourite chocolate bar or arrange something. It could be bigger. Whatever I do, I want my friends to know that I'm there: to talk, to cry on or to just be there.

With family, it's harder as I'm around them most but I know it's my family who need to know I appreciate them the most. So I'll buy my brother a film he really wants or make him his favourite food, I'll help my mum out with the dinner or watch TV with her and I'll act silly with my dad or arrange a day out to his favourite place.

What about making a stranger smile? Passing an elderly couple and smiling at them is one of my favourite things to do because that might just well make their day. Whenever I'm buying something at a shop I like to wish the person at the counter a fabulous day because they may come across some people that are rude or make the day harder. Or I like to help someone when they need it: pick up a kid's toy when the mum's got a thousand things in her hands; reach for something in the supermarket when someone can't; do something little to make someone smile for the moment.

Now, I don't try to make someone smile so that when I'm watching Eastenders in the evenings I can conclude the day by thinking "wow, I'm great." That's not what it's all about. Making someone smile means they'll get something out of an action that I do too: a little or big slice of happiness.

Smiles & Surprises,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Summer Dreams Ripped at the Seams

Summer has been fab this year. College has been tough and stressful but so worth it and I've spent this summer feeling nothing but chilled. I've never been bored and I've also appreciated days where I've just eaten sweets and watched films. We've also had lovely skies like this:

Summer dreams ripped at the seams... Back to college I must go.

Although I have that horrible "ugh it's time to go back", grey-sky feeling about my second year at college, I am motivated. I'm feeling the fear of the year to come, but I'm excited. As I'm feeling both ends of the spectrum, it means I can work hard to reduce my fear but also not forget to enjoy the fun parts of college that will happen this year. Although I'll have exams and stress, I'll also have days out and nights with friends and this can't be forgotten amongst the mist of notes and panic. These are the things that will make it bearable. Getting everything sorted for university will, in turn make me motivated to get the grades that I need.

Aims for this year:

- I must read more. Although I've made time to read this year, I've not read as much as I would do and so when I'm a bit tired, instead of complaining and moping, I shall read! In turn, some of these books will be ones that will help with my university course.
- Prepare for university. This is so important. I've got my places figured out but I need to understand each different university course as well as booking everything I need.
- Ultimately I have to work my mismatched socks off. There's no more to it other than: I cannot disappoint myself.
- I need to learn not to publish a post if I'm not happy with it. I've been so focused on making sure I publish regularly (three times a week), that I sometimes overlook the fact I'm not happy with the post. Planning what I'm going to publish when has definitely helped with this as it means I know what posts need to be done and I have ages to think about it.

I wrote a post in the middle of July about That Feeling. I said that I hoped the feeling would stay with me and, all summer, it did. I have had the best summer and I am so sad it's over - so sad - but life goes on and all that.

Blue Skies & Fluffy Clouds,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

Monday, 2 September 2013

The Fault in Our Stars - John Green

*Many traces of spoiler... Like, seriously, some real spoilers. This may be more like a retelling of the novel than a review.*

You know when people claim to have not been prepared to experience something so mind-blowingly amazing that they now see the world as a more meaningful sphere of metaphors? I experienced it and I experienced it oh so much. When I purchased The Fault in Our Stars I knew I would have my heart taken away from me on a rollercoaster cart, ready for the ride of Hazel Grace's life, but I didn't know my eyes would rain quite so much. (Oh, Mr. Green, my love for metaphors has increased).

Oh, and hold on tight because this is going to be a long post.

Let's start with the characters.
Hazel Grace is one of my favourite characters ever. She's courageous, funny and so selfless. She always seemed to be protecting other people's feelings and although it broke my heart because she didn't have to, she did all the same. She was also so outrageously, inappropriately funny and it made some really sour parts of the book lighter. She had an attitude that made horrible truths easier to take in. "Even cancer isn't a bad guy really: Cancer just wants to be alive." This quote just epitomises Hazel Grace, her justifying the destructiveness of her own illness.
I'm not going to talk too much about (one of) the love(s) of my life Augustus Waters because I will soon be posting a Fictional Fantasy post about him but he is just awesomeperfectlovely. From the moment he was mentioned in the novel, I knew he would tattoo my heart with his every organism. The way he saw things as a metaphor and his view on life lit my heart with wonder. Oh, and he's so gosh dang charming.

The parents of Hazel Grace played such a big role in the novel with setting up how heart-breaking the novel is." As Hazel stated, the thing worse than being a sixteen year old with cancer is being a parent with a sixteen year old child with cancer. Throughout the whole novel, whenever one of Hazel's parents was mentioned, this would play through my head, making every tear from her father sting me all the more. I, like Hazel, felt the best relief near the end of the novel when it was made certain that her parents would eventually be okay after she was gone.
I had built myself up to meet Peter Van Houten, this wonderful author, the image of him in my heart mirroring Hazel's and so when May came, I felt Hazel's pain with her. Her one wish, her one real wish turned out to be horrendously disappointing. I turned to my brother after I read it and complained about how he ruined Hazel's dream and then he reminded me, it's fiction. Still. What's more, Van Houten, by the end of the novel is still an alcoholic. That's raw and as much as I would have loved for him to be okay (I hope, beyond the pages, he is - I really want to email John Green about this), he wasn't and, well, that added to the realism.

Augustus and Hazel's relationship is at the top with all of my favourite romantic relationships because of one thing: their differences and similarities made a coherent whole. Everything about them worked so well; they understood each other and they wanted to understand each other. What was even more touching was how in love with each other they were before they were together. Hazel didn't want to be with him so as to make sure he never ended up hurt and Augustus wanted to be with her so they could be happy together.

"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly and then all at once."    


Augustus's fear of oblivion is a part of the novel that made me think. He feared being forgotten because, in time, there would be no one alive to remember.
"Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That's what bothers me the most, is being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease."
No matter how strong Augustus appeared, how sure of everything he was, he was vulnerable and he had fears. He wanted to make a mark and he feared not making it. Well, he made a mark on my heart, that's for sure.

The part of the novel that broke my heart the most about the novel was this: "...I was beginning to suspect that even if death didn't get in the way, the kind of love  that Augustus and I share could never last." I don't like to believe it's true, but, in my head I linked it with oblivion: nothing ever lasts. Although when I read the quote it caused me to dampen the top of my top, tears not staying at the bay for anything, I know it's exactly what I love about the novel. I really love how honest it is.

I've not felt sadness at a novel like the day I read of Augustus's exit. I went to bed and Augustus was alive and charming Hazel and me. I woke up to read and before long he was dead, gone from the pages of the novel. There's some sense of realism there. That's why my throat was caught and my eyes pricked for a second before I really began to sob.

I'm glad that the book was left where it was because, despite the novel spelling out Hazel's death and what happened after, without the "scratches on a page", we know that beyond Hazel's death, her mom's happiness will exist despite the pain and her parents stay together. I just know it. Mr Green, I thank you.

I've never been so touched by one novel before and heck, not many novels have made me cry quite like this one. I was left with a muddle of thoughts and sadness but enlightenment. Not only did this novel bring me great joy with opening my eyes quite so much, the tears it created meant some really moisturised cheeks! The Fault in Our Stars is full with lines that made me stop, re-read the sentence made up of everyday letters that formed something so special and let the words make my heart pound until I was ever so slightly over the hauntingly perfect or beautiful words. Every special line is in my memory, etched with the romance and the tragedy of it all. True, the overwhelming sadness I felt was genuinely heartbreaking, but it's the most raw, true and touching novel I've read.

I could ramble on (as I've done above) about how amazing this novel is for a days and days without thinking I've not covered everything. The Fault in Our Stars is a love story, a fight, a tragedy. The Fault in Our Stars is a masterpiece, a tear-provoking work and a story that will never leave me.

John Green, this novel was more than "scratches on a page."

Crooked Smiles & Metaphors,

The Girl in the Moonlight.
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