I Actually Enjoyed Shopping?

In my younger years (I sound like an old woman) I was notorious for hating shopping, scorning the thought of myself wearing makeup, and not wanting to go to the effort of going outside to do something for myself – entirely for me. Today, I flipped that on its head, and realised some parts of my personality have changed drastically.

When I’m at my dad’s house, I’m often happier and strive to be independent. Such was the case when my dad asked me on Thursday, “Elm, want to do anything at the weekend? Maybe we could go out on a walk or learn some routes, like going on the bus or something.” I’m blind and so my independence means a lot to me, as it’s abismally low, which meant that I jumped on the opportunity.

“Actually,” I said yesterday when I was transferring from my mum’s to my dad’s, “Can I go out and get some makeup brushes and makeup?” No one was more surprised than I was (except most likely my mum). Over the last year and a half, I’ve steadily warmed to the idea of makeup: I don’t think I’d wear it all the time, but I know it makes me feel confident. Not because of my appearance because I can’t see myself, but it’s a new thing, an extra little add-on that – if I apply it myself – gives me faith in my own abilities, if that makes sense?

After having stayed up until 4 (I still have a pretend grudge against the bloggers I skyped until then) I was exhausted; I woke up at 11, relaxed, had a shower, brushed my hair and made myself feel as relaxed and happy as possible because I knew if I went out today with a bad mindset I’d give up and not want to do what would make me feel better: taking control of myself. I took the first steps to do that by putting perfume on, and wearing clothes that I actually like; it’s little things like these which make me feel secure.

At my stepmother’s insistance, I wasn’t guided by my dad and I walked the (short) distance to the bus stop. I embarrassed myself by not being able to find the card reader thing (I live near London) and getting pissed off, stepping aggressively down the bus and then losing contact with my dad, meaning that I couldn’t find a seat and nearly sat on someone… That was great.

When I arrived at the shops, I got stressed: I knew what I wanted, but I was paranoid I wasn’t getting the right thing. Rapunzel, a close friend of mine, has helped me because I’m literally terrible at everything to do with beauty. I asked her for advice, and used my (limited) skills to find out what I liked.

I bought:
Four brushes from Real Techniques:
• A foundation brush
• Concealer brush
• Shadow brush (for eyeshadow I think
I KNOW NOTHING)
• Powder brush
• Foundation from Bare Minerals
• Perfecting Veil from Bare Minerals
• Two packs of makeup wipes from Boots
• I’m not turning into a beauty blogger; that would be hilarious because me +beauty =disaster

In the midst of shopping, I had to deal with some, errm, emotional panic, so that wasn’t great, but I soon looked over it because I was happy as I was being independent with my actions. Not once did I feel bored, or frustrated at not being able to decide; I spoke to three shop assistants and didn’t feel out of place. They didn’t make me feel like a child.

This afternoon, I learned that it’s okay to change your opinions. It’s alright to go out there, ‘do what you want, and not judge yourself for it. I’ve accepted that I’m intrigued by the thought of makeup, of making myself look a certain way and being able to manipulate that.

All in all? Finding myself makes me feel like I can truly do this. That I can truly express my own personality without screaming at myself for it. You can, too.

From Elm 🙂

Guest Post – No, It’s My Birthday!

Hey Guys:

My name is L (sure, don’t judge me, because it’s not my real name… Or is it). I’m a blogger (surprise surprise), and I’ve been invited by our lovely Elm (hem hem hem hem hem) to guest post on this blog. So before I start, let me just tell you that you’d get a MUCH better quality of blog if you read my fine writing, at
Consider Yourself Warned…

There is little that Elm and I have in common, although that is a complete lie; it was just a good way to start a paragraph. We’re both blind, from London (roughly), and most important, we share a birthday. Our birthday is on 31st December, and it’s been a long-standing debate on which of us owns the birthday. Of course, being the superior being, I am certain that the birthday is mine, and I kindly share it with Elm.

She, on the other hand, claims that `the birthday”‘ is hers, because she was born first. Of course, this is ridiculous: everyone knows that the first is the worst, and the second, moi, is the best – it’s common knowledge! Despite this blindingly (pun) obvious fact, I’m willing to settle that our birthday belongs to both of us, and that we are both equally as important as each other (you have to lie to these less intelligent beings you know!)

As my birthday is, well, mine, I thought I’d tell you all about my birthday, and what happens each year. I’m not one for parties, which means I was undoubtedly born on the WRONG day – New Year’s Eve is the BIGGEST party day of the year. I like to have a quiet day, sometimes shopping with my sister, using the Christmas and birthday money I have received. Also, like this year, I sometimes go out with `the family”‘ for a meal at a restaurant. I like that, because it’s quiet and peaceful, and I feel very sophisticated (which I am, of course… It’s not hard to tell). Present opening either happens in the early morning (6 or 7) or early afternoon (1 or 2), depending on my parents’ work hours that day. Cards are usually in the morning, because that’s where the money is, and if I’m going shopping, money is usually pretty hand (I know, I must be a genius… QUICK, CALL OXFORD!!!)

I do hope that this post has been an enjoyable read for you; I hope that you’ve gathered who’s birthday it is (mine, of course);,and that the best (me) was clearly saved until last (the last day of the year, if you hadn’t quite got that yet). Don’t forget to check out my blog, and I hope to write to you all again (I never said soon…)

L XX

For the Girls Who Fundraised for Malawi

Today, I went Christmas shopping and I ACTUALLY ENJOYED IT. Shocker, right?

The atmosphere was fantastic. We went to this indoor Christmas market that just smelt of Christmas, and I bought so many lovely things and you could hear buskers outside playing a marching-band type song (Christmas carols AND pop songs). You had rings and trinkets and beautiful scarves and even some rock-salt candle holders.

I was walking outside to go and get some food when we passed these girls – my dad said there were four of them – and one was singing Christmas carols.

So, I’m going to write something to them. Part of me wishes they’d find this, because they need to know what an amazing thing they’re doing.

To the girls who were fundraising for Malawi,
I only gave you 40p to start, even though you have amazing voices. Seriously, the way you sing is just so beautiful and powerful, even when it’s Christmas carols.

But I came back, because I fell in love with what you were doing. You’re raising money for education in Malawi, which will go towards building a school, which will give 400 orphans a place to learn. Yeah, I listened to you, because the way you spoke just made people want to give you money to help. It certainly made me want to give you some.

I gave you a pound the second time. Sorry for walking INTO one of you – I didn’t realise you were sitting down and my dad made me walk across the street to you, which was scary but so worth it. The first time, I shouted over the music, “What you’re doing is so great!” and the second time, I reitterated it because it’s so true. I admire all four of you so much.

I wish I could meet you, honestly. It sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? I don’t know your names, if you’re nice or not, how much you believe in help. But what I do know is that you stood up there, sang and raised money for children who can’t learn because they don’t have the money or the facilities, and you were there for a long time. That shows dedication. I’m guessing you’re about my age – 15 or 16 – and I could never do that. I’d LIKE to, but I’m not brave enough. You are.

Despite only passing by you, despite only knowing you for a fleeting second, you’ve inspired me to want to help. It’s affected me, and I’m not sure why – I think it was the festive atmosphere, the fact that I felt so happy, because you ALWAYS see people singing on the streets. Except you guys were doing GOOD with it, to help people who others might not help.

Thank you.

From Elm 🙂

Have you ever had days where something just touches your heart? Something that doesn’t usually, I mean.

I want you to take something from this: just think for a bit. Think about what those girls did. Think about people who can’t be helped. I’m not religious, so I won’t pray for them, but what I WILL do is think about them.

It’s 12 days until Christmas, and every day, I’m going to try and be as nice to people as possible. It’s the least I can do. I’m not doing Blogmas, or a 12 days to Christmas Challenge, but maybe this will be my challenge. Maybe you could join in with me, too.

Every day, just do something small. Say to someone, “I hope you have an amazing Christmas,” or just smile at them. I sound like one of those people you get in assemblies at school, but just try it. I’m going to try, even when things get tough.

Thank you so much for reading.

YEAH, I have Friends!

So, today I’m going to town with my bestest friendy eva, Odd. Did I just write that sentence?

Anyway. Usually, when we go to town, we end up getting into really odd (ha, HA) situations. We’re like the famous five but… Um, there are two of us, and we’re not annoying little kids, and we don’t solve mysteries… Okay, we’re NOT like the famous five at all.

I’ll give you examples of what usually happens:

She picked me up once and put me down on a wall and this woman was staring at us.

We went to the bookshop, read loads of blurbs, and fangirled and shouted with anger at the “mysterious, irresistible boy” cliché. Why didn’t we get kicked out?

We were in the bookshop again and I found the errotic fiction section. That was…

She kicked my cane; it flew nearly into the road and nearly hit a little boy.

She always screams “RUN! THE POLICE ARE COMING TO GET US!”

There have been several awkward situations involving me not knowing where the shopkeeper’s hand is to put the money into.

Somebody dived out of the way of my cane – when I say dived, I do mean DIVED.

We’ve had several laughing fits and we’ve fallen over many times.

I’ll update you on what happens 😛

Wish me luck! Should be leaving in about 15 minutes because it’s a 35 minute drive or so.

From Elm 😀

I went outside today. *Gasp*

AAAAND I just came back from that oh-so-loveable (not) moron’s house. After she posted THAT, she took my phone, went on Omegle which was terrifying, started playing some songs I wrote really loudly (self-promotion lah-dee-dah) and then I attacked her to try and get the blasted thing back. And her dog jumped on me.

I Am Odd.

So, today Elm and I saw each other today. Or, rather, I saw her. It was a little bit hectic, but in a good way. Definitely. It started out well with my dog going mental and showing her more affection than she does me. Fucking good for nothing demon dog sucks. Anyway. And then we went to town and I decided to lift her up so she could walk on a wall, and an old lady with a child stared at us as if I was mental and Elm was some form of weak child. That was fun. Then, as is always inevitable, I decided to kick her cane. And she let go. With a man and a child in front of us. Imagine being in the man’s shoes watching this white, long thing fly towards you and the little child next to you, then imagine my fear as…

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