“Today is never too late to be brand new”

Listening to Taylor Swift for the first time in ages.  I have missed her old songs which I could relate to.  The ones which weren’t all about boys. 

But today isn’t too late to start again, so that’s what I’m doing.  I’m going to write a list of naughty things I never want to do again.  If I feel the urge I may use my blog as a method of distraction.  I apologise if this means that you might be at the receiving end of some of my bad habits…

  1. Give up naughty sticks.  Been having them more and more regularly recently, and this is not good;
  2. Give up on friends who are only in a friendship for the drama you get with it.  They aren’t worth it, they never will be, and they deserve the crap, boring life they are setting themselves up for;
  3. Give up on sexting: this is the one I apologise to you for.  If I get the urge to send a naughty text to an undeserving boy, then I will write an opening to an erotic novel on here.  I will probably end up deleting it immediately, but at least it will be out my system.  This is the hardest one for me to give up, I reckon.  There are far too many people who expect it of me, I find it hard to decline.  (Don’t worry, I won’t subject you to my naughty photos)…
  4. Give up caring what people think.  I realised recently that I care far too much what strangers think of me.  I will see these strangers a maximum once in my life, so why do I give a shit what they think?  If my dad wants to car dance with me when we’re stuck in traffic, I’ll join in!  If my mum wants to hold my hand when we go shopping, I’ll let her.  If I want to stand up and dance on an empty dancefloor, fuck it, I will.

This should be enough at the moment.  Everyone needs a guilty pleasure or two.

Welcome to the world, new Becci. 

Getting off my fat arse…

I am one of the many people in the world who buy all the right running gear, some decent trainers, get all pumped up, take a photo and post it on Facebook and Twitter of how healthy I am, leap down the stairs, then discover someone cooking bacon.  I normally end up sitting watching TV in my running gear, stuffing my face.  Every single time I get changed to go for a run, food gets in my way. 

I am not going to let that happen any more.  I will sneak down the stair with a shield and a sword to fight off the threat of food, and run out the front door.  I will sprint down the street, and impress everyone who drives past.  I will be healthy, I will be fit, I will have a bikini body by the time I hit Australia! 

…maybe.