Merry Blooming Christmas #bringbackaretroxmas

Ahhhhh the enchantment of Christmas! I can’t pretend I don’t bloody love it.  I have loved it since I was a kid reaching out for my knee length school sock and sleepily gulping down a mix of tangerine and quality street, whilst trying to refrain from shaking my mum out of her snoring state. I remember my brother enthusiastically pointing out Santa’s sleigh in the sky on Xmas Eve before he lovingly tucked me up in bed whilst my mum and dad were getting smashed in fancy dress down the local working men’s club. I remember my crisp new PJs and book before bedtime and I still think fondly of the memory of my mum’s voice luring me to sleep whilst reading it to me.  I remember excitedly colouring reindeers in my ‘Super Bumper Christmas Colouring Book’ whilst watching my mum frantically prepare for ‘the big day’. They are my most favourite memories of my childhood, I must say!
But in terms of Christmas – the list above is about all that is I remember ….. what I don’t remember is my mum being responsible for the whole enchantment and shebang of Christmas. The feeling didn’t need to be created in the way we ‘create’ it these days. It was just there ….. it just happened, don’t you think?
Ok sure, she had to buy some gifts . Some being an important term here: they didn’t have to compete with Sarah and Glen’s ‘insta’ mountain of presents. They also needed to buy some Ritz crackers and some pickled onions and cabbage etc. But they didn’t have to have Sabayon with Procesecco and figs or Pork and Caramelised Onion rings but to name a few.  We didn’t have Xmas Eve boxes, I never stepped foot in a theatre unless it was derelict and I was getting pissed. I didn’t get special hot chocolate to drink before bed (could make a cuppa tea if I wanted like).
I definitely didn’t get taken to several Santas – I saw my dad’s mate dressed as Santa whilst smashed on whiskey at the Club and I was grateful for the selection box that he handed me. Usually it was free and a reward to our parents for spending most of their benefits in the club all year. It did not cost £30 whilst being handed a plush rhino and an awkward encounter with some overgrown elves after a 3 hour wait. My parent’s weren’t then bent over and robbed for an additional £20 for the exact same photos as last year with an extra inch of height on us all . And what the hell are ‘Christmas Outings’. The Christmas outings of my childhood were for grown ups … for us kids .. this term simply meant .. we went out to play and let the adults get on with the wrapping and the cooking and after the main event .. we would simply ‘play the fuck out’!
Elves on Shelves???? My bloody stocking was my school sock (as detailed above). PNP videos?? – my sister would recite ‘Twas the night to me’ whilst eagerly dragging me to bed. It was certainly not something my mum spent 3 hours doing after a 12 hour shift at work. And I know that she did not feel sick with guilt when she forgot to set the react cam up on the app. Tracking Santa on Norad? Listen … you went to sleep .. if you woke up and your parents told you to get back into bed … he hadn’t bloody been. I didn’t need to know that he had dropped off 2450,000000 presents off and was gliding above Gambia to add excitement. I didn’t care what Pedro got in spain as long as my Scootex was sat under that tree, life would be good.
Oh and don’t get me started on decorations. We had one tree!!! And there was no such thing as a Norwegian Snow Covered Sprucie Wuccie!! It was a bloody artificial tree (usually about 4ft tall) and it was covered in decorations from generations ago. We didn’t have to match every sodding bauble. My mother didn’t have to fork out every year for a brand new set of decorations as Tracy from Greenway Close had copied her purple theme! Outdoor decorations were fairy lights around the inside of the window … and only then if you were posh enough to have two sets of lights.  You didn’t have to compete with Martha May Who and her lifesize re-enactment of Santa’s reinauguration at the North Pole.
Table settings??? Not a sprig of Holly in sight .. or lights … or candles … or place cards!!! Napkins? Kitchen roll at best I am afraid. We ate our dinner on our knees whilst watching Superman for the 99th time. The best thing about xmas dinner, you got to have a drink with it rather than having to wait until after you have eaten your dinner. Bonus! Our coffee table would be adorned with the xmas condiments of beetroot, pickle and such – not a xmas hurricane lamp!!!
I feel for the parents (mainly myself) in this generation. We don’t get a chance to enjoy the festivities that we work so hard to prepare. It has simply become a tick list of events and to do’s that we simply have to complete. And if we don’t complete it … boy the guilt! There is just so much to do .. it is becoming impossible. I need to start in the summer if I am ever going to keep up with the growing list of xmas events and traditions that I need to adhere to.  I don’t know about the rest of you overworked, underappreciated mothers and fathers reading this, but I would like to have a 1980’s xmas … just for one year .. so I don’t have to spend thousands in both time and money in order to satisfy my children who don’t even notice that I have even remotely tried.
Maybe we should all rebel next year and hashtag our own #retroxmas
However you have chosen to spend this Christmas, I hope that you have had a chance to enjoy your hard work because just incase nobody has told you …. you totally deserve it!
All my love and best wishes for the festive period Angelina xx
P.s All the pictures on my blog are of my siblings … so clearly by the time my parents got to baby number 4 the novelty of a camera (and possibly children) had worn off. Again they did not have to prove to the world of social media that they loved us all equally so clearly didn’t bother.
The Simplicity of 80's costumes

It’s here!!!!!!

It is so quirky, raw and original. She has a talent to transport me to a time and place I have never experienced. A very funny and talented writer.
Carol Bennett – Canada


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Reading ‘The diary of an Ageing Sexual Adolescent’ was a blast from the past and while our musical tastes weren’t the same, our romantic interludes seemed to be. It will strike a note with most 1990s teens out there; the teeth smashing, the indiscriminate fancying of anyone and everyone, the straying into enemy territory in the pursuit of love, it’s all here. But what struck me the most was how the tone subtly changed, much like our heroine, as life and love played it’s wicked game with her. I read the last section through in one night, so desperate was I to know the outcome. A brave, honest and laugh out loud cringe fest coupled with the heart wrenching destruction of your ideals regarding love. A fab read, a definite buy.
Jaimee Beavers – UK




It’s Here ……………………..
The day that I have feared, anticipated, vomited over is finally upon me. I hope you enjoy my seeds my friends. Without you, I am nothing. Thank you for walking this lengthy journey by my side.
All my love,
Angelina xxx

Angelina Avator




EXCITING NEWS …. the time is now!

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Once upon a time, on a day you probably barely remember, I spilt to you, the news that I was working on a brand new series of books that would hopefully spread the laughter of this blog amongst the miles.  Not one to compete with myself or my own blog, I decided to write a fictional story about a young girl trying to deal with life in all its true forms and brutal truth and not replicate the glorified versions of which currently adorn the bookshelves of Waterstones everywhere. 

Now admittedly, my first agent informed me that nobody wanted to read about how shit it was to lose your virginity and nothing like the magical event we imagine it to be, how some girls find penises repulsive to look at, never mind touch and more importantly have no idea what to do with them. And they definitely would not like to read about a girl who LIKED TO HAVE SEX but was not always so keen on the relationship aspect. Apparently my protagonist would be classed as a flawed heroine, and not only was she unrealistic and readers would not be able to identify with her but people wouldn’t like her either. Funny that, I feel like I know so many ‘flawed heroines’ that apparently people would not like #wounded.

It got me thinking, do we all have such an amazing experience of adolescence, or are there a ridiculous amount of Shannons out there, but we just don’t talk about it. Even in 2018, is it still not acceptable to act/feel this way, simply because you are a woman? Now if you have followed this blog for some time, you will know, that I am not very good at positive portrayal and much prefer to spew out experiences of real life to the masses that also have no chance in hell of every experiencing a seemingly ‘normal’ life.

So it will be of no surprise to fill you in that, I wrote the fucking book anyway. And I am sure that it will also be of no surprise to know that I found this book writing experience a total fucking nightmare. Maybe you were with me at the beginning of this journey, like 2 FRIGGING YEARS AGO!!!

Maybe you were convinced by a riveting cover and engaging blurb to download this emerging author’s debut novel’s free chapters. And now many moons later, long after you have no doubt forgotten the juicy innards of Shannon Black’s life, the weary author has had the time to finally finish the story. Yay! Like any good story, the process has not been without an evil witch or two. The ‘time fairy’ stole all of the writer’s time and she was enforced by her wicked mentor to split her lengthy tale into a series of books, even requiring a scary title change. Eek!

But a happy ending is surely on its way, as I bring to you great tidings of a release date of the book that should never be released. It seem then that you can all judge for yourself, whether Shannon is indeed normal or if we should put her in the stocks at Chesterfield Market and lob rotting vegetation at her? On Friday 20th July, 2018, your inbox will be filled with a joyous invitation to purchase the final offerings of the completed debut novel, the first in the series, ‘The diary of an Ageing Sexual Adolescent – The Harsh and Brutal Truth of Firsts’.

If you cannot contain your excitement and eagerness to be the first in line to grab a sparkling copy for yourself, then fear not because you can grab the first four chapters completely free right here.

Diary of an Ageing Sexual Adolescent – The harsh and brutal truth of ‘Firsts’ – FREEBIE

Following the release tomorrow, for a whole two long weeks, my new release will be available exclusively, digitally on amazon at the discounted price of £2.99!
If you are not the e-reader type, then don’t worry, the paperback is currently being prepared and will be released shortly after on Friday 27th July. Who needs a god damn fairy godmother or indeed a likeable, identifiable, not flawed heroine? Just give me sleeping children, silence, some bananas for energy and a brutally honest exploration of the trials and tribulations of ‘sexual adolescence’.

The ageing and exhausted writer would like to thank you from the bottom of her heart for your patience and most of all for being a part of her journey to becoming a writer. I only hope you enjoy reading about her journey as much as I enjoyed writing it. And if you are missing my blog posts as much as I am also missing writing them, then watch this space. As following spending every available second I have sleeping and drinking for the next few weeks, then I will happily get back to being a keyboard warrior. Oh do I have some stories to tell!

Wishing us all a happily ever after,
Angelina XX

Angelina Avator

Living the Dream, Parenting a Teen!

If you are recently contemplating your own early death as the only viable coping mechanism for parenting teenagers… then fear not!!! I am going to bring to you regular positive point prompts (from my new book) of why having teenagers is awesome. So let’s start right here:

1) No alarm clock needed on a weekend (saving both money and the annoyance of having to remember to set it). As a parent to teenagers you will be provided with the wonderful experience of waking up to the sound of your 16 year old daughter sobbing her eyes out screaming at her boyfriend down the phone probably due to spending the night at a party laying his tools to some pre teen who he has recently stacked up the streaks with. Thus having the added bonus of bringing back your own horrific memories of the purgatory that is adolescence.

But if you should be unfortunate enough to not be blessed with a raging hormonal and terribly unstable daughter, and only a zombified, full of rage son – then fear not … this positive point can still be applied to you! Ok .. so you may not get the petrified sobs full of separation anxiety but instead you will be awoken to the beautiful ringing of virtual frustration, violent threats and warbling over a lack of bullets not to mention a lack of co-operation from his ‘fucking retarded’ virtual team mates (clearly their words not mine).

Now …. if like me … you are pleasantly blessed with one child from each gender bracket, then imagine the joy of being awoken by the sublime ringing of both of the afore mentioned, simultaneously!!! Yes … simultaneously!!! There is nothing better than being dragged from your sleepy slumberous dream ( who wants Channing Tatum to school them anyway : / ) by two screaming banshees, from opposite ends of the tone bracket – making for quite a symphony sprinkled with profanities.
Ahhhhhhh … seriously this is living the motherhood dream. Get in on the action and create your own teenager today!!

Mother’s Day or yet another Children’s day in disguise?

Diary of a Mental Mother

Anybody else feel under immense pressure to post pictures of the sentimental beautiful messages that their children have written to them on this very special day? Or maybe Instagram the piles of thoughtful presents? Share details of days out or special moments shared with the fruits of your loins? Yeah of course you do! And should anybody say anything to the contrary, then they are simply being contrary for attention – right?

Well I must say that I did receive such lovely things …… from my 7 year old!!!! The teenager and pre teen barely notice I exist and certainly a day on the calendar labelled ‘Mother’s Day’ didn’t hold enough clout to change that! I will give it to them … they dutifully landed on my bed (after the husband had dragged them out of bed) with a card that they had been forced to sign. They reluctantly watched…

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An 80’s Christmas Advent

Awwww an old fashioned advent!

Diary of a Mental Mother

There are not many perks to having teenagers, let’s just be honest for a minute. Although there will always be some twat reading this who frowns at their screen reminiscing of all their ‘Walton’ moments. Actually, now you have made me ponder it … there may be a couple! For example, having somebody to make you a cup of tea (or more likely witches piss), wash the pots occasionally (leaving clumps of sprouts still attached to the pan)  and of course walk the dog (leave the garden and stand around the corner for 10 mins having a fag before they return, dog un-walked).

Anyway I suppose they have a mild level of usefulness but the perk I was particularly mulling over today, was the idea that at times they have the ability to propel us back to our own childhood and fill our heads with memories of days gone by. …

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Oh no she didn’t …. oh yes she did!

Keeping with the festive feel of the season …. I wanted to bring you news of good tidings. Ok so I haven’t quite given birth to the Christ himself (but if I had, let me tell you: I would place him in a more suitable place than a god damn manger). But to me, these good tidings are akin to giving birth (metaphorically speaking).  So here goes …. I have given birth to a …………………. new book!!!! Yes!! Now if you are a writer, you will understand that similarly to pregnancy, the weight of carrying around unfinished/unpublished work can be a nightmare. The symptoms are often the same: people always asking when it is out, the constant nausea of worry and (let’s be honest) always a little unsure of whether you will like it once it is finally out (or was that just me?).

Anyway so here it is. Unlike my usual works, this is a children’s book!! Yes, I know – check me out all prim and that! Believe it or not, I do have a softer side. And you will be pleased to know ….. yes I like this one. 🙂

This story is a celebration of the uniqueness of being ginger. How the 2% of the world’s population that are ginger have natural super powers that they aren’t often even themselves aware of!

So, if like me, you have a ginger or two: I am myself the maker of three gingers (maybe I am more godly than I first let on – bring me the manger after all), then this book is a lovely story for them to remind them of exactly why they need to proud of their heritage. Celebrate the red head in your life – regardless of age.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Happy Red Celebrations xx