I left my bed

I have never been to " Gay Pride" before. And let me tell you, it's fucking wonderful. I love the kind of days that make you feel so much friggin emotion that you become overwhelmed. I mean, i'm sure the vodka played a part, but it happens without. Jake, Ellie and I set off in the afternoon. After 20 minutes of riding up and down in the lift, forgetting stuff, going back, taking lift selfies, we finally made it on the tube, albeit separately thanks to Jakes enthusiasm. I was wearing the strongest outfit. See through black top, bright robot dinosaur VS unicorn leggings, 2 buns, red boots and rainbow eye shadow. Luckily for me, i was promised i would feel under dressed as soon as I got to central and that became true thankfully. We turned up to Trafalgar square, got some sandwiches and an iced coffee and set out to find out where the parade was heading... Not before seeing Lee Ryan from Blue in Cafe Nero. Mental. Thought about asking him for a pride selfie but I

As i was boiling my spring greens for the occasional healthy salad i like to make as an attempt of trying to replicate what i eat out, i tipped away all the green juice in the pan and was suddenly like... OH MY GOD. So i poured the rest into a glass, this is where the good stuff is right? That's why steaming is better, because it keeps all the nutrients locked in. If, like me, sometimes you have a kitchen so grubby you cant find things to steam in and the microwave smells like 4 other peoples curries (#studenthalls) you may find refuge in a saucepan. I thought to myself, WHY AM I POURING ALL THE GOODNESS AWAY and came up with an idea to make it more drinkable. I chose - Spring greens - Basil - Spinach But feel free to wack in like Parsley cos that's well good for you, kale... you know the drill. Boil and save all the veg for dinner and use the juice. Add whatever you want to it. I imagine apple juice would be great, 100% pure obvs. Almond milk would probably work if you want a

I'm going to be honest about why i started this blog. I've medium touched on it but you know, just little snippets.  I don't like laying too much out on the internet, a) It's not smart and b) Where's the mystery, guys?! but this isn't that much of a secret. I suffer from depression and anxiety disorder. These 2 disorders have plagued my entire life and not without other disorders coming and going throughout growing up.  The point is, i first started this blog as an outlet but also with a shell. "Sophie is loving life and here's what you can do with yours etc." But, that's bullshit. Am i happy in all the things i have done and written about? Absolutely. Did it take me fucking 5 hours to make it out of bed to maybe do it? Quite possibly.  I switch between writing about things I have seen, done and love, to writing about things i have discovered about myself, life and my brain.  I've wondered how to merge these two

Im lucky enough to have a family to go on holiday with, which makes me super happy. After 3 years off the family tradition, my dad decided it was time to spend some seaside time together again. That and my mums gentle persuaison. This year was a little different. We had a new little man with us and my sisters boyfriend. After the most chaotic journey to Cornwall in the history of time, or mostly our time, we had finally arrived. I say chaotic, we were just stuck in holiday traffic for 9 hours. We all settled in to Priory Lodge which is our go-to hotel for staying in Newquay. The food is great, the staff are great and it feels like a second home. Our second day there, we managed to do what the Edwards's do best on their first day of holiday. Go to pound land. Don't ask me why. You would have thought the novelty would have worn off now its become so popular in almost every town and I am never more like 3 minutes away from about 4 in London but no. We still managed to spent

My other half had surprised me whilst I was on holiday in Cornwall, with a one day and night trip to Brighton. Double beach time? I was ecstatic. I met James from work at London bridge where we got our tickets to head to the seaside and settled down on a one hour train, in which we both ate leftover pizza and napped through. Which in my opinion is already a good start. During our journey on the train, James muttered "shit" under his breath, which is just what you want to hear on the way to your holidays. He had booked the hotel for the day after, and not the day we were actually in. Shit. I laughed at him because you know, men innit, and then we went in search of our hotel to see if we could rectify it. Brighton is very steep. Our hotel was mostly up a hill to the beach front which was too windy to get even close to. It's a lovely little pub with rooms above it and we were immediately welcomed by the owners. They didnt have a room for that night so they were kind