Hello beautiful people! I began this blog almost half way through my undergraduate law degree and, as you can see, was having FAR too much fun (as I should have been) to handle all my law work and consistently blog! What am I, Superwoman? Well, yes. But honestly I think it was best because I am more confident that I have worthy things to say now I’m older, wiser, and more outspoken than ever! AND I’VE GOT MY LAW DEGREE!

When I began this blog I didn’t have a specific topic that I was going to focus on but had the intention of finding a focus eventually. However, that time has not yet come! I am wiser but not wise enough to begin untangling all the madness that goes on in my head – I think trying to ‘categorize’ each blog post is the best it’s going to get!

So yes, I will be discussing anything and everything that might affect a young 20-something year old living in London, may that be luurve, or life tips, rants about my struggle of a journey to become a solicitor, satirical political pieces mocking this economically-driven, environment-destroying machine we call life that we are forced to be cogs in, where our Prime Minister is basically found to have fucked a pig and we just casually gloss over it as though it is your standard student debauchery. Trust me, I am not the best behaved, but I assure you that putting your dick in a dead pigs mouth is NOT what students in Britain do for fun. #elitistproblems

Okay, so clearly right now it’s not just my journey to becoming a qualified solicitor that I am beginning, but also the beginning of my journey to becoming a revolutionary. VIVA LA REVOLUCIÓN! Will the hippie in me leave me with age? I hope not. I hope it stays like weed smoke trapped in a stuffy hot-boxed room. Hopefully the ‘luurve’ bit will come when I run off with Russell Brand to live by the sea in a hut, and grow my own vegetables, and wear trousers made of nothing but my own leg hair. She says, as she sends off training contract applications to commercial firms because doing the LPC (legal practitioner course) costs the life of your first born child. At this rate there will be no first born child for me until I’m 35 and I have lost most of my eggs (but probably good, as I will still giggle and get eggstatic over the punny yolks I crack.)

Much love! xxx





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