February 14th, the date when smug people gush all over your desk with their dozen red roses while you rub savlon on your new rose tattoo that you bought yourself (yes I did that last year judge away). Continue reading “Relationship status – New”
It’s January, and the only way to make the month less shit besides filling your water dispenser up with mulled wine in the office is to book a holiday. Sun, sea, sex, far too many cocktails and a stench of after sun what more do you need for a relaxing well-earned break? Well I will tell you, you need the people on the plane next to you to have some bloody mile high manners. Continue reading “Mile high manners”
NYE, the most over-hyped evening of the year. It’s all anyone can talk about in the week following Christmas and it ends up being a little like a sad, fizzled firework that doesn’t quite go off properly. Continue reading “NYE is overrated”
December is the month of the work Christmas party or the more aptly named employee hunger games of who has a job to go back to next year.
Here are some top tips for maintaining your dignity and contract in the coming weeks. Continue reading “#workxmasparty”
As the festive season creeps up on us like the disintegration of mascara when some else eats all of your advent calendar by the second of December, so does the pressure of being joyful, happy and thankful for two weeks of the year. Continue reading “Tis the season to be jolly”
My name is Vikki and I am not an alcoholic. However, recently life threw me a massive lemon and now I am no longer allowed to pair it with tequila.
It all started with a stomach ache, one bad enough to stop your Nutella addiction in its tracks. A few G.P.’s later this leads to seeing ‘Mr Specialist’. ‘Mr Specialist’ weighs me, I had lost a few kilos and secretly high-fived myself even though I knew this was a sign something was not right. The words ‘endoscopy’ and ‘colonoscopy’ get bandied about as if they were as common as a blood test. Well let me assure you, they’re not. They involve being off your face on anaesthetic and having cameras shoved down your throat and up your arse – super sexy stuff I know. Continue reading “Last orders”
Three years ago, I had been single for about a month and I had just moved from a small town to a city. I was busy trying to embrace this whole modern man inner city living vibe. Everything was new and I had decided that I should maybe start dating. My home town protocol was just go out with someone you knew from school or from the local pub, but in the metropolis of Aberdeen there were endless ways of meeting people. Continue reading “The dessert menu”
Sorry Jean, it’s not you it’s me….
Standing in a Topshop changing room aged 18 trying to squeeze my stomach into some skinny jeans contemplating some sort of diet that will help you lose weight but also potentially shit yourself in public. Continue reading “Dear Jean”
1. Don’t believe the hype
We need to talk about inspirational quotes. A gorgeous girl or guy with a cute rucksack, nice pair of shorts as if they just walked out of a catalogue. If you decide to travel or move countries SPOILER ALERT you will not look like that you will look NOTHING like that. Stepping off a plane after spending a ridic amount of hours cramped next to strangers with questionable hygiene methods and watching re runs of shitty sitcoms with a dodgy gut does not result in a Victoria’s Secret model arrival. Truth be told you will smell like a toilet , look like you just fell out of a bin and will have no fucking idea what time it is and spend the first ten minutes angry and bursting for a piss while you navigate where the toilet is. WELCOME! Continue reading “8 brutally honest truths about moving to a new country”
This story goes back to a time when there was no Tinder. There was however – Facebook. So begins the romantic tale of the 21st century. Or as I like to call it – the worst date I ever had.
One day I had a random guy pop into my mail box. This guy was by no means unfortunate looking in the slightest. In fact, after a bit of light Facebook stalking, it transpired he was a model. Apparently my image had appeared and he just had to ask me out. This was the first time I had been approached this way but we got to talking and arranged to rendezvous. Continue reading “The Pourer”