14483501_10209096588886128_690028606_nI’ve said before and I’ll say it again, I’m by no means a beauty expert, I just like to write about it in my spare time. But still, I feel like as a blogger there’s a certain level of skill I should have that I just don’t have down at all, which is equally hilarious and frustrating at the same time. Hilarious because errr LOL you should see some of my attempts. So awful.

Anyway, here are the beauty tricks I just cannot for the life of me do. Which yes is probably down to practice but also NOPE can’t be arsed doing a full face if I’m not leaving the house, just in the name of ‘practice’. Nu-uh. And if I’m leaving the house you can bet your sweet ass I’m already 45 minutes late and do NOT have time for new and/or advanced techniques.


Winged Liner

I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I just can’t for the life of me get them even, nor do I care about practicing either. I have hooded eyes so it’s really rare I decide to do eyeliner cause half the time you just can’t bloody see it. Annoying but also I get 20 minutes extra in bed so who’s the real winner eh???


Colour Correcting

I’ve dabbled with colour correction a bit, but every time I give it a go I just end up with the opposite effect I want… my red spot is suddenly green and then I try and correct that with some skin coloured concealer and rub off the green corrector in the process and then it’s just back to square one except I’m all flustered. If anybody has this down please teach me your ways. PLEASE.


Lip Lining

It’s not that I can’t line my lips, because um HI it’s the easiest thing since eating a whole pizza at once, I just forget. ALWAYS. I’ll have done my face, be admiring my contour. Now lipstick time, straight in with the red… and ooooooh shit, forgot the liner. And then repeat same routine every time wearing lipstick ever ever ever. FFS.


Body Moisturising

I’m all about the smooth life. Literally there is no better feeling than crawling into bed with smooth AF legs but if you think body moisturising is on my radar you are WRONG. Nope. Apart from once in a blue moon when I decide to treat myself (and then have all the regrets because EW legs stuck to pjs) I just cannot be arsed. At all.


If I’m in for the day, I’m in for the day. I am NOT finding the time to practice applying fake eyelashes for nobody to see. Which means that whenever I do decide to apply them I’m completely shit, and end up flustered and hot and stressed and having a temper tantrum on the floor. Which tbh is the only acceptable way to deal with eyelash issues, but so far hasn’t helped at y’know, actually improving my skills to the point I leave the house wearing them. Oops.


Which beauty tricks can’t you do? And what are your tips for nailing the ones above? Help a gurl out, these tantrums are getting v tedious.


P.s – That picture has absolutely nothing to do with the post but I literally just got off a plane so lets just roll with it yeah?

alcudia majorca holiday old townAs you may have guessed by the 2629010372801037291 Instagrams, and several blog posts, last week I buzzed off to Alcudia on my first proper holiday in three years.

It was nice.

I spent the whole time relaxing, doing exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. I napped on sun loungers. Photographed the most perfect beach. I read half a book (which tbh I think is quite an accomplishment when the sun is at eye glaring level 80% of the time), and I ate tapas. Lots of it. I drank cocktails in the company of a Spanish parrot. I swam in the sea.

We stayed at JS Sol de Alcudia, which was lovely and modern, very clean, and did nice cocktails. Which is basically all I need in a hotel. Breakfast was great, the evening meals were hit and miss but generally good.

It was a break I very much needed.

I wrote last week about pre holiday bikini dread, and how the thought of wearing a bikini in front of strangers after having, *ahem*, a couple of cheat years was filling me with absolute disgust.

And you know what? It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t care. The bikinis I took with me fitted me well and were flattering, so while yes, I still want to shed a couple of stones, I managed to enjoy my holiday without wanting to cry at my belly rolls every time I sat up on the sun lounger.

And I’m so happy about that.

It was the break I needed from everyday life. Relaxing. One on one time with Danny that involved a lot less Instagram scrolling, a lot less xboxing and a lot more laughter than the daily grind.

But I wouldn’t go back to Alcudia.

I didn’t fall in love.

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When planning our trip, Alcudia came up in a lot of my searches due to its beautiful beach, cultural old town and authenticity despite tourism. So I went with it.

On arrival we soon realised the resort is a very scattered one. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before, with pockets of bars and restaurants but no real centre.

The area around our hotel, the beach area, is quite ‘Brit abroad’ with lots of English and Irish bars aimed solely at British tourists. The more culture filled port area was a half hour walk from our hotel, and the old town was a taxi/bus ride away.

And while I relaxed, and drank, and ate until I almost burst, I didn’t fall in love with Alcudia as a place.

I didn’t click with it in the same way I did with Croatia, and Prague, and Bruges. I didn’t come away with a burning desire to return, leaving me with wanderlust as soon as the plane touched down in Manchester airport. I just didn’t.

So while I loved my week away, the food, the memories I created, and the rejuvenation I feel upon return… I didn’t fall in love.

And life is too short to return to places that don’t grab your heart and make you desperate to revisit.

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