He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.

Whether it’s going for hikes, gardening or cooking, every couple has something that they love doing together.

Something that brings comfort and allows both partners to just enjoy being in each other’s presence without any pretence or expectation.

For my boyfriend and I that means watching series in bed, while putting food in our faces.

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We recently started watching Supernatural. For those who do not know, it follows the story of 2 brothers that hunt and kill supernatural beings, in an ultimate quest to find the creature that killed their mother.

Although I find it terrifying and cover my eyes for the most part, it’s really enjoyable and captivating.

Saturday we vegetated in the bed the whole day, just watching episodes of Supernatural.

I kept reminding myself to go shower whilst it’s still light outside. (I feel safer from monsters when it’s still light outside)

It was quite late when I finally managed to convince myself that I stink and need to shower.

I was happily showering, when BOOM.

The light goes out.

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I just stood there, frozen.

After what felt like an eternity of calling the boyfriend to come to my rescue, he finally strolls in and fixes the light.

Just before he leaves, he says “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Just scarecrows.”

The last episode we watched was about this scarecrow that comes to life at night and kills people.

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And just to top it all off, he closes the door and leaves me in complete darkness before switching the lights on.

Naturally the rest of my shower went like this:

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But all in all, it made me realize 2 things:

  1. He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.
  2. I love him more than anything.

I was utterly terrified that night and he definitely added to it, but I have never felt such a great sense of relief as I did when he opened that door. Not only because it lit the room, but because he was there.

And I knew without a doubt, I was safe.

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My furbutts ♥

I despise people who labour under the misconception that rats are filthy, diseased creatures that need to be exterminated in the cruellest of ways.

I never in my life thought that adopting 2 rats could brighten up my life in so many ways.

I mean, how can you say no to this?

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We got Max (The brown hooded one) about 10 months ago and then  4 months down the line – after a considerable amount of nagging the boyfriend; we got Ben (The pink eyed, white one).

What I did not know was just how much attention and care rats actually require.

Besides making sure they have enough food and fresh water daily, you also have to ensure that their cage and litter box (Yes, they are actually potty trained) gets cleaned every day.

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And if like me, you like to spoil your furry children with custom made beds and hammocks, you need to wash those every week, because unfortunately they love to mark EVERYTHING.

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Living in unhygienic conditions can be detrimental to their health.

Like most pets, rats also require a lot of attention and interaction. They are highly intelligent, affectionate and each have their own, unique little personalities.

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There’s nothing better than coming home after a shitty day and hugging your furbabies.

Perhaps one day my dreams of owning 20 rats will be fulfilled.

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Thoughts on being sexy.

There comes a time when every girl grows boobs and becomes a woman. But as we get older we all have to confront our own sexuality.

Am I sexy?

Do I have to feel sexy to be sexy?

Do I have to try to be sexy? Or can I just wake up one day and decide “I AM SEXY TODAY”?

To me being beautiful is defined by your character, the way you conduct yourself and by your own unique quirks. But what is sexy?

I only own one piece of lingerie. I feel like a confused, cross-dressing alien when I wear it.

*looks at self n mirror*

“WHAT ARE YOU?”

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I have never felt sexy and comfortable at the same time.

It’s like feeling sexy is something you constantly have to work at, until you master it. That shit was not pre-installed.

I mean, cute? NAILED IT.

Pretty? Yeah, maybe on a good day.

But sexy? WHAT IS THAT?!

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I don’t want to come across as sexy to other people, because that is subjective to their opinions of me. I want to feel sexy for me.

Or at least only when I try to be.

The happy ever after..

Women have been brain washed for years.

Everything in the media has led us to believe that love is pure whimsy and magic and that the perfect man is out there, just waiting to sweep us off to our very own happily ever after.

We grow up thinking that we’ll find this perfection.

But the truth is, we’re not perfect ourselves, so how can we expect someone else to be?

It’s a terrible precedent to set, but we’re all guilty of doing it.

For example:

Boyfriend: What’s wrong?

Me: Nothing, I’m fine.

But here’s what I actually mean:

Me: I want you to reassure me that you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, that you still think I’m pretty and that you love me. Then I want you give me a really big hug. Maybe maybe some pizza too. And say you’re sorry. :(

What he hears:

Me: Nothing. I’m fine.

I know for a fact I am not easiest person to live with. Besides that I wear ALL his clothes, sometimes I turn into a real gremlin girlfriend.

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that relationships are hard motherfucking work.

There is no such thing as perfect, there’s only compromise. The willingness to work on the things you disagree on,  not only because you love your significant other, but because you want to have a future with them.

I think you just have to find someone worth putting up with, for the rest of your life.

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I like big books and I can not lie.

You know what makes me feel like shit? Books.

As much as I love reading, it ultimately makes me feel sad, because I realize just how much my life sucks.

Compared to the magic, books conjure up in our minds, our lives are boring.

Being a bookworm is very much like being a drug addict.

Attending social gatherings and performing simple, daily activities, such as sleeping and eating, become tedious. All you can think of is how badly you want to read your book.

But what happens when you finish said book?

You crash. HARD.

Your life loses all meaning and purpose.  You walk around aimlessly, with the inability to start reading a new book, because you’re still hung up over the last book.

As much as reading books makes me hate my life, it also brings me peace, happiness and provides a healthy way to escape negative feelings.

“ I don’t just want to reads book, I want to climb in it and live there” – Anonymous