Usually covered in clutter due to my inherited untidiness (although on a good day I may clear it so my laptop can sit well as I have a good ol’ Skype session with my bestie and by clear I obvio
Usually covered in clutter due to my inherited untidiness (although on a good day I may clear it so my laptop can sit well as I have a good ol’ Skype session with my bestie and by clear I obviously mean shove everything onto my floor), writing about my desk would be a bit pointless. Instead I’ve decided to write about the next best thing—what’s on my bedside table, which is (a little bit) more organised.
Since I can remember I’ve been a head-to-toe, 100 percent, fully committed tomboy and I shall not be changing! My friends seem to think otherwise though due to some of my recent purchases. Really they’re just saying it to wind me up for their own amusement, although having a best friend who’s gay and another who’s posh makes it pretty easy to return the playful banter.
So, these purchases. Perfume my friends. I recently spent more than enough time in Boots testing out fragrances and it’s fair to say my trips there were, how do I put this, a shambles? In my final endeavor to Boots, with the aid of my best friend (possibly a good luck charm?), I stumbled across ‘Midnight Fantasy’ (Britney Spears’s perfume). Despite its rather girly exterior (I guess I won’t be living that down anytime soon) I loved it’s rather sweet and Skittle like smell (#tastetherainbow) so took the plunge and made one of my first steps into the world of womanhood.
Next up are my Hello Kitty’s. Yes, there’s more than one. A relatively new obsession of mine and one which I cannot justify my love for at the age of twenty and with my masculine roots, but as a sucker for anything cute these days I cannot help but see something Kitty related without gasping in excitement and ‘awwing’ as it’s adorability. I’m starting to see where my friends are coming from.
(Photo courtesy of Flickr user foshie)
Quotes, I love them. I have them on my bedroom door, I’ve comprehended having them tattooed on me, so it’s really no surprise I have a little book of quotes on my bedside table. Despite the overly unsympathetic title of: ‘Shit happens so get over it’, some of the quotes in there are actually quite reassuring for when life’s being a bitch. Some of my favourites include: “Everything is OK in the end. If it’s not OK, then it’s not the end” and “Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, so that we can see life with a clearer view again.”
As an aspiring photographer, I’ve always have pictures nearby, whether in my wallet or on my bedroom walls (in fact my room is still a teenage haven plastered in posters), so it was inevitable that I would have a photo on my table. This one is of me and my best bud and sits in a Bart Simpson frame. I will always be a die-hard Simpson fan at heart.
A good few years ago my Sister’s (ex) boyfriend kindly bought me a Christmas present. It certainly topped the previous year’s gift of Lord Of The Rings on DVD. Not that I think it was a poorly directed piece, but never in my life have I shown an interest in hairy toes, speaking Elvish, or certainly putting two together on the big screen.
Thankfully by the following year his gift buying skills had improved and he bought me something a bit more quirky. A phone holder disguised as a mini shopping trolley! It stands proud on my table and is something I would definitely recommend people buying. Not only because it looks the shit, but also because there is no chance of being struck with B.T.T. (bad trolley times) and getting that one we all dread—the one with the doggy wheel!
Saying that I don’t actually use the holder, my mobile has the most aggressive nature when put on vibrate (the only way I know my phone’s gone off!) so when leant against the metal bars of the trolley and on the few occasions I’m popular enough to receive a text, I jump out my skin and crap my pants. Not worth the hassle. Regardless, I love its aesthetics and therefore refuse to get rid of the little fella.
I have a couple of other bits and bobs on my table but I didn’t think talking about my tissue box in great details would be all that exciting. Agreed?
All in all I think my table says a lot about me. That there’s more to me than my tomboy exterior? That it exposes my more feminine side? But most probably that I’m quite a different individual who has no shame in admitting she has a growing obsession with a Japanese cat.
