Ah, I love airports.

Howdy, y’all!

So, right now I’m sitting in a shopping area at Heathrow trying not to stare at a woman wearing the most absurd hat in existence.

Imagine a plain black snapback cap.

Now add pink fluffy trim.

Then add the words “Mummy Swag” in little jewel studs along the front.

As I said, pretty absurd.

This is why I love airports. They attract every kind of person from the farthest reaches of the world and chuck them together in a confined space.

Plus, the place has a feeling of transience about it, where a unique set of people momentarily cross paths in a situation that within itself is so wholly unlikely that it makes the entire instance seem astounding…

That sounds very pseudo-philosophical, but oh well.

Back to people-watching.

A group of Japanese tourists is walking past.

They all have matching hats on, this is glorious.

Okay, what the hell just happened?!

Here I am, minding my own business, and an elderly woman from the Japanese group turns to me and says,

“You are cute white girl! We like cute white girl!”

That said, she snaps a photo of me and scuttles away.

Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

Oh God. I’m sat on those rows of chairs arranged back-to-back with other rows, and there’s a man behind me snoring and his head looks like it is dangerously close to lolling back onto my shoulder.

Please no.



Oh no.








oh thank god he woke up.

Crisis averted.

I’m now at outside a Yo! Sushi.

I nearly got run over by one of those buggy things on the way here.

In all fairness, the guy who was driving it looked like he was on a homicidal rampage.

And there was an old guy in the back egging him on, wielding his walking stick like he was some sort of warlord.


I’m about to get on a flight to Warsaw, and I have no idea whether I’ll have internet access in the hotel so if I go AWOL for the rest of the week, that’s why.

Also, if anyone has ever been to Warsaw and recommends anything to do in particular, please let me know!

Much like!


Anecdotes., Uncategorized

Shopping Pandemonium

This was a shopping excursion with me and my mother.

It was bound for chaos from the outset.

We went to Costco (it’s basically a huge warehouse that sells products in bulk to representatives of businesses etc.)

The journey wasn’t exactly harmonious.

The short of it is that we ended up taking a wrong turn, swearing profusely, cutting up three lanes of angry rush hour traffic and getting eyeballed by a creepy businessman at some traffic lights.


Okay, at this point I’m going to do a quick blame-shifting exercise: the trolleys at Costco are humungous (you could probably fit two of me in there, for crying out loud) and the back wheels don’t turn side-to-side so you’re basically throwing the thing around a corner and praying you don’t take out a nun or something.

This will be of import later on.


We went in and grabbed our complementary coffee/tea (cool, right?) and started to mooch.

On our right, there were flatscreen TVs, games consoles, mobile phones, all the flashy tech you could imagine.

On our left, there was a massive cabinet of expensive jewellery, some with rocks so big they looked fake.

And what did the mother say?

“OH MY GOD. LOOK. THEY HAVE VARIABLE VOLUME STORAGE!” and ran away to basically fangirl over glorified plastic boxes.

So I slid away to look at the books, and was disappointed. Nothing but airport fiction. I did see a pair of gorgeous black Levi’s but they didn’t have my size (me cries.)

Upon meeting up with the motherbird again, we went up to the foodstuffs section, and this is where I renewed my daily tradition of horrifically embarrassing myself.

My first mistake?

I offered to push the trolley.

Bad, bad idea.

So I was trundling along, and we found ourselves in a long stretch of empty aisle.

I don’t know about any of you, but I cannot restrain myself in these situations.

I slowly backed up to the end of the aisle and psyched myself up.

Then, I ran full pelt for a few feet, jumping onto the back of the trolley and flying at hyperspeed down the aisle.

Just before the end I leaped off and pulled the trolley to a halt, giggling like an idiot.

And then I looked behind me.

Three shop employees were staring after me, a mix of confusion and utter bewilderment on their faces.

I just grinned and ran off. Well, as fast as you can run with a trolley laden with enough ground coffee and peanut butter to last a couple of decades.


We carried on having a browse (ducking behind nearby crates when one of the employees materialised who beared witness to my trolley land-speed record) and stocked up on enough everything to survive a few apocalypses and then some.

At one point, I got a little over-zealous with my trolley-handling and I didn’t bother to look when I turned a corner.

I literally came about a centimetre away from full-on mowing down a child. He looked about six and I think I may have inadvertently made him shit his pants.

Oh, did I mention that my evade-making-child-pâté manoeuvre involved off-roading onto an empty crate, almost capsizing my overloaded trolley and nearly T-boning a little old lady carrying an industrial sized pack of napkins?


I managed to get out of the place without killing myself/anyone else thankfully.

The only things I gained from the experience were chicken noodles and an affirmation of my dorkishness.

So yeah.

I’m essentially disaster-on-legs.

At least it makes a good (ish) blog post though.



I regret nothing.


Izaezel: wreaking havoc on wholesale supermarket chains since 1997



Quick sidenotes: I ended up deleting the last post I published (The ‘Proactive’ Summer) because it sounded plain stupid. Sorry for any glitchiness that may have occurred because of that.

Aaaand a superquick THANK-YOU. My follower count has shot up by about 25 in less that two weeks (that may sound pitiful to some of you luminaries of the blogosphere, but it’s all proportional). For me it’s pretty crazy that y’all would want to read my rants/ramblings/the crap that spouts out of my brain, so it means a lot. In other words: you’re marvellous


A-Level Results Day: The Verdict

Well, fuck.

That was weird.

Le Lowdown:

Went to school with my friend A. We were both feeling trippy. No biggie. She rather suitably had a crewneck on with a huge hand flipping the middle finger.


Got to school. Officially preparing to die. K.

Went into the hall. They were lined up in envelopes in boxes. It felt like some twisted version of the Hunger Games. Fully expected Effie Trinket to burst out and pound me in the head with one of her wigs or something.


Signed off on the register. Got handed my results.

About ready to flip my shit, climb on a table and rugby tackle people I hate.

Or die from heart failure before I could open the results.

Decimated my envelope in the process of trying to get it open.

Looked at the results.

My string of reactions went kind of like this:





I could not fucking believe it.



Pretty good, seeing as in my exams my brain went into lockdown and quarantined the bits with my intelligence in them. I literally ended up like:


I felt bad for people who didn’t do as well as they’d hoped though. It’s hard to seem genuine in those situations, and I always feel like I’m doling out fake sympathy and really bad advice. Well, when I last had a bad set of results and people tried to comfort me, I was like,



But anyway.


(and all I got was this crappy blog post)





Anecdotes., Uncategorized

Best Friend’s New Boyfriend: A Tale In Supernatural Gifs


The bestfriend, P, has obtained a boy.

I learned that they were a thing a while ago.

First reaction?

Via buzzfeed.com

Via buzzfeed.com

And then:

Via buzzfeed.com

Via buzzfeed.com

I know the guy.

He’s nice.

So I talked to him at a party a few days ago about P.

I began with the intimidation card; hurt my best friend and I’ll pee on everything you love, etc.

Kind of like:

Via sabatofamily.blogspot.com

Via sabatofamily.blogspot.com

Buuuuut then a load of drunken people came running through like:

Via pinterest.com

Via pinterest.com

So that didn’t really have any cred from the jump.

Plus he’s like 5’10 and I’m basically a hobbit so it didn’t really have much effect.

So I tried the nonchalant, casual conversation approach to try and weedle some info from him.

My attempt at casual =

Via buzzfeed.com

Via buzzfeed.com

I am an idiot.

Buuuut he was being very cute about P.

I was trying not to explode with happiness.

I most probably looked like I was in excruciating pain.

Or really needed to go to the loo.

He actually asked if I was okay at one point.


Via prettylittlereader.com

Via prettylittlereader.com

But overall, I was like:

Via hakuyowaneforlife.deviantart.com

Via hakuyowaneforlife.deviantart.com

So all is good.

I told P later that I had been talking to le guy.

I gave her the lowdown on what was said.

My face the whole way through:

Via buzzfeed.com

Via buzzfeed.com



So the next time I saw them with each other, I literally ran around like:

Via zephyrante.tumblr.com

Via zephyrante.tumblr.com

I’m such a dork.

The general reaction to this was along the lines of:

Via uncyclopedia.wikia.com

Via uncyclopedia.wikia.com

And this, fair reader, is when the revelation came upon me.

I have officially lost my wingwoman.

I realised I would, from now on, be…

Via buzzfeed.com

Via buzzfeed.com


And seeing as I am going to a party tonight, there is only one solution.

The end of the road.

The last resort.

No other choice.

To drown my sorrows…

Via buzznet.com

Via buzznet.com

I have a feeling many post-worthy events will occur.

Wish me luck…






Swat Ninja.

Okay, this post is a measure of how lacking in sanity I am.

It was 11pm, and I was dumb enough to turn my light on and have my window open at the same time.

Then a moth the size of a flipping poker chip flew in.

I hate moths.

I’m not scared of them, I just hate them.

They’re just so…

Source: reddit.com

Source: reddit.com

(Michelle Obama is amazing. End.)

And I’m not squeamish.

I think it’s the flutteriness…



So I was faced with a predicament because I wanted to go to sleep at this point, and I was not about to chuck myself into unconsciousness when there was a chance of this thing flying up my nose or whatever.

And I get grouchy when I’m tired.

This moth was standing between me and sleep.

Therefore, this moth had to be terminated.

I armed myself with a flyswat and began the approach.

It was on the wall.

I had it.

Then, with a brief yuck-flutter, it landed slap-bang on my Fault In Our Stars poster.

Right on Ansel Elgort’s schnoz.

(That’s a nose for anyone who doesn’t speak Izaelien.)

I am protective of this poster.

Thus, this moth just made an act of war.

And, I (out loud, full of rage) said, “Oh, it’s on, bitch”, looking like,

Source: memecrunch.com

Source: memecrunch.com

So I chivvied it off the poster (I couldn’t bring myself to splat it all over Ansel Elgort’s beautiful face. Potaple will understand) and I managed to semi-swat it in the air.

It fell down the back of my bedside table. Pulling the table out of the way, I saw that the moth was still moving, but slowly.

Again, out loud, I said, Aha! I have you now, fiend!”

I am ashamed to know me.

I managed to squish it and dispense of it after wrapping it in a zillion tissues to make sure it wouldn’t magically reanimate and invade my nostrils in the night.


I think I am insane.

But nevertheless.

You can call me:

Swat Ninja, Vanquisher of Moths and Liberator of the Bedroom Realm, Defender of Sleep and Wielder of Swatness.



Infamous Prefect Weekend *dramatic music*

So, this is the post you’ve all (not) been waiting for…

It’s here.


Source: memecrunch.com

Source: memecrunch.com


HEALTH-WARNING: This post is helluh-long, so if you are in danger of:

  1. Needing to pee
  2. Getting peckish
  3. Becoming thirsty
  4. Getting bored

Then relieve your bladder, grab some nibbles and a beverage and put on your 3D glasses now (not all at once. That could be dangerous.)

Just saying.

Mega-essay over here.

Totally worth it though. I laughed at my own jokes.

First off:

Phase 1: THE PREP
So, I thought it was going to be the relatively simple task of just taking some old jogger trousers, old trainers and t shirts.

How wrong I was.

It was like a military operation in my household, my mum giving me torches, disinfectant, repellent, head-to-toe waterproofs, bin bags, safety glow sticks (wtf who even has them outside of Spy Kids) and all but a bloody grenade to protect myself against existence. If there was to be a viral outbreak or a zombie invasion, I was your gal.

So it started off as I expected. We congregated in the school café before hauling our multitude of suitcases onto the coach (seriously though I could have probably had a goddamn party in some people’s bags – they were huge. How long are planning to stay? A fricking year?!)

I sat by two girls I vaguely knew and we decided to be in a tent together. Then we proceeded to debate whether butternut squashes are a fruit or a vegetable (any help here anyone…?!).

Pretty standard.

We got there and pitched tents (ours looked a bit tipsy – we didn’t bother to check the ground to see if it was level. Oops.) Then we were split into 3 groups of 10, named after Harry Potter houses (I was in Slytherin WOOP)

So then we walked to a massive shipping container that had all the equipment in it (helmets, climbing harnesses) and began to get ready.

Now, young padawan, let me describe the scene for you.

These aforementioned harnesses are of the full-body type, so they go around your shoulders, over your back, like so:

Source: peaksupplycompany.com

Source: peaksupplycompany.com

If you look, they also go right up the inside leg of your crotch.


Now, we all did Sex Ed. We know that mannequin hasn’t got any junk if you know what I mean.

But, you see, the 17-year-old boys we were with?

They do.

You see what I’m getting at?


One girl very eloquently summarised the situation later in the girls’ shower room: “You’re not looking, you know you can’t, you know you don’t want to. But it’s just there. Like… like the elephant trunk in the room.”


So anyway, the first activities were high ropes. I love heights, so I was like:

Source: diylol.com

Source: diylol.com

There were a load different things to do, like climb up a telegraph pole and balance on top of it, a team race up a Jacob’s ladder, a king swing…

It was great.

Apart from if you fell. Then all your weight is on the harness.

And man, that stung.

But anyhow.
Here starts the real embarrassment.

Phase 3.5: THE SWAMP

After the high ropes, we were beckoned towards a rather suspicious looking rope swing.

That happened to be positioned over a swamp.

And then, rather casually, the instructors said: “Okay, now you have to get your team of ten people across the swamp onto a tractor tire in the middle.”

Commonly translated into normal speak as: “Okay, now magically transform all of your physically inept teammates into Neo from The Matrix and double backflip onto this platform the size of a two pence piece in the middle of this swamp infested with crocodiles and flesh-eating piranhas.”

So naturally, I was like:

Source: diylol.com

Source: diylol.com

And, in-keeping with Sod’s Law, my group was picked first.

We got about seven people on fine.

Then it was my turn. I swung on and so very nearly slipped.

After a bit of hasty grabbing of limbs, we were all intact apart from a foot-dunk in the drink.

At this point, we were all holding onto each other for dear life, and I definitely felt a hand on my boob.

And if I hadn’t been at risk of falling into a stinking swamp, I would’ve been like:

Source: quickmeme.com

Source: quickmeme.com

But I saw it as a proportional sacrifice. Plus the guy was pretty hot as well so that ameliorates the situation


So then there were eight.

Aaaand that’s when the ninth came in (literally) like a fricking wrecking ball.

We all fell, in true cartoon fashion, into the swamp.

And it stank.

I was literally like:

Source: sodahead.com

Source: sodahead.com

Oh, did I mention all of the other prefects and my teachers were watching?


Our team all had to go and shower in our clothes.

The rest of the evening was better, though.

A lot of people went down to the pub to watch the England game, but I and about six other people stayed and set a campfire, made smores and played card games for a few hours.

That was probably the highlight of the trip.

After everyone came back, we played Boys v Girls Capture The Flag (we won because we tied our flag to the rope swing over the swamp) and finally hit the sack around 1am.


We all found out something new that morning: a result of using muscles you didn’t know existed + sleeping on rock solid ground =

Source: troll.me

Source: troll.me


We had breakfast, packed up tents and shiz and began the morning activities: problem solving.

It basically comprised of things like using beams to get across a ‘flaming lava pit’ (i.e. a square of grass), and a blind-folded obstacle course.

It was okay.

I think I was probably too tired to pay much attention or summon up a damn to give.

Then we packed up on the coach and went to another facility to do raft building.

Raft building.

I really was not looking forward to this.

We basically had to make something that would hold 5 people with nothing but 6 wooden planks, 6 oil barrels and some rope.

We took the advice of our instructor, naturally.

Source: gamemoir.com

Source: gamemoir.com

Our team’s looked alright until we got it on the lake.

Well, unless a raft should sit at a 45º angle on the water.

What’s worse is that the instructor that told us to do it like we had was travelling next to us on a fricking speedboat.

So by the time we got to the middle of the lake, most of the team were like:

Source: gifcentral.blogspot.com

Source: gifcentral.blogspot.com

But we all just jumped in the lake anyway, so it didn’t really matter in the end.

We then sunbathed for a while before getting picked up, and I literally collapsed after I got home.

I’m pretty sure I died and came back.

Aaaaaand THAT is all folks.

If you’ve reached this point, I am:

  1. Shocked.
  2. Grateful, and
  3. will pay you back in cookies and gifs.
Source: disneycreate.wikia.com

Source: disneycreate.wikia.com

Source: pandawhale.com

Source: pandawhale.com

Hope you enjoyed!





I will never be able to face the world again.


So, this morning I realised I had left my walking boots in the car. At this point, I was still in my pajamas. I looked out of the window, weighing up the situation with meticulous precision, and devised two plans:

Plan A: Haul myself up the stairs (in the morning, equivalent to Mount Everest) and make my appearance socially acceptable to the point where I would not scare small children.

Plan B: Risk being seen in full PJ gettup (messy hair, pas de makeup, flowery pajamas and all).

Bearing in mind this is at 7am.

I took the plunge and chose Plan B.

So, I did a weird walky-jumpy-running thing to the car (yeah, I had no shoes on either) and opened the boot.

Now, at this point I’ll mention that I have had Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody in my head for the past 48 hours. So on the way to the car, I was humming this under my breath.

In true meerkat style, I did a little pop-my-head-out-and-scout-around thing. Beside the car, there is a small hedgerow separating our drive with next door’s. Because I’m short, I can’t see over these. The only other place I could have be seen from was the house over the road, and the owners are away.

So, naturally, I saw no one. Because of this, without consciously realising, I started to hum a little louder.

I grabbed my walking boots and then spotted my rucksack at the back of the boot.

I was now faced with yet another predicament:

This is a big boot.

I have short arms.

So I (very ungracefully) climbed in the boot, all the while rapidly approaching the chorus of the song.

Then, bestowed with rucksack and walking boots, I wriggled back out of the car.

I did another little peer around, and I was still alone.

Now, the chorus was upon me.

The catchiness was overwhelming.

I had no choice.

I sang.

I cannot sing.

But I sang.

And I did a low-key jig on the spot, funky shoulders and the rest.

In pajamas.


In public.

Then, mid-chorus, I closed the boot, singing: “I wanna feel the HEAT–”

And then, my life ended.

My elderly neighbour was standing on the other side of the hedge.

He had been there the whole time. Gardening. At 7am.

“Hi.” I said.


He just stared at me, looked vaguely confused.

Cue uncomfortable silence.

Then I calmly (!) scuttled back into my house.

And I have officially lost the last morsel of pride I possessed.

Why am I even here

Why do I even care anymore.

Well, sh*t.

This is going to be awkward.