Lifestyle · Manchester · Music

Finishing First Year of University 2.0

Okay so I might not have exactly passed yet – I received 34% on an exam I took before summer so that’s getting sorted in a couple months – but my first year of university is almost (not officially) over!

It has been a weird old year in Manchester and spellbindingly diverse in comparison to last year.  Innocent me taking on the world in the heart of Manchester with some acquaintances that would come to me when they fancied a night out (and vice versa) or wanted to lend some money (not so vice versa). Surprisingly, none of these people cast a shadow over my life anymore.

I also believed I was embarking on an odyssey where student life was concerned – safe to say I dropped out of my Music Journalism degree at the British and Irish Institute of Modern Music as soon as I realised this was a no-go area.  Best decision of my life to change courses to attend The University of Salford? I reckon so.

The 2016/17 academic year has firstly made me question the girl I was becoming.  I realised at The Warehouse Project in October 2016 that I needed to quit the life I had led for the past year.  Did I really want to go stand in a sweaty room of eighteen-year-olds, bouncing around to the ridiculously horrendous David Rodigan, pretending I was having a good time?  Did I really want to be downing double vodka oranges every other night in G-A-Y and stumbling home at 6 am? It just wasn’t me anymore and that was a really scary realisation.  I was the party girl and all of a sudden POOF.  Vanished. Weird, huh?

This idea that I was evolving was totally cemented in when I visited my best friend Kate Shepherd at York St. John’s University, and we attended at University of York student night at Fibbers… Never, ever again am I stepping foot in Fibbers. Give me a chilled night in Manchester’s Jimmy’s or Cane and Grain any day of the week. EVEN Soup Kitchen on a Saturday night!

I have sadly come to terms that I just do not like the partying student lifestyle anymore.  That might make me beige by your book but for me, it is probably my greatest epiphany of this academic year.

So once I stopped wishing DJ EZ was at South Nightclub every weekend I did not really replace this musical desire with anything.  The Libertines said “If  you’ve lost your faith in love and music oh the end won’t be long”.  And honestly music was lost on me.  I did not care.  I did not see a live band from November-May and I genuinely just was not interested.  I had given up hopes of writing about music and I was seriously at a loss.  What changed?  I decided I needed a hobby other than the gym, knew I was good at writing so started again.  Seriously as simple as that… I just did not want to run on a treadmill anymore.

In December I started writing for again after taking a year hiatus to experiment with other things.  IE. Not do anything and was wasting away in my bedroom.  I gained the position of News Assistant and was then sent to Liverpool Sound City and Isle Of Wight Festival to become a roving festival reporter for the weekend.  As soon as I stepped through the gates of Sound City I knew this was what I was missing.  The hunger for live music, to discover the next-big-thing, to interview none other than Metronomy frontman, Joseph Mount – this is the gal I was.  I just lost her for a couple years.  Shout out to the Gigslutz team for allowing me back into your world so kindly – Mari Lane, Steve Aston, Becky Rogers and Melissa Svenson (who does a pretty cool podcast which can be listened to here, you absolute angels.

So I rediscovered my passion in life, I ditched the nights out blah blah that is all well and dandy Ella but what did you achieve this year? Power over my own life.  I learnt to say “no” when I did not want a beer (I went to Funkademia at Mint Lounge and was buying rounds of lemonade and water for me and one of my favourite chefs at work AND was home by 2 am, sober.  It was a proud moment.)  I learnt to say “fuck it” when an opportunity I was desperate for popped up.   I learnt that my life was mine and the people that filled it was the people of my choice.  I learnt that I am twenty years old – I have plenty of time in my life to mess up one night and spend the next day lying in bed eating cold pizza from the night before, but right now, at twenty, all I want to do is make an impact in the music industry.

This year at university has taught me to be determined and I will get there, eventually.  I now know not to give up. Cliche? Cheesy?  Embarrassed?  All three, yes probably.

I have also managed to take my blog a hell of a lot more seriously this year.  I am not posting as much as I would like (hello life, nice to see you throwing things at me as always) but it has taken a serious turn in the upward direction. We celebrated our third Cigarette Sounds birthday in April of this year and we are definitely preparing for the milestone of the fourth.  There is no slowing down with this baby, we are speeding up in every single way possible.  Hopefully, soon I shall be able to settle down into a nice lil’ routine of blogging a few times a week, rather than a couple times a month… Here is to hoping. I do need  graphic designer to make Cigarette Sounds a bit more personal so if you are free, give me a holler.

Speaking of blogs, one of my gal pals from work, who also happens to be a sick manager too (Em definitely paid me to say that) Emily Brooks, started a blog this year after she was toying with the idea for so long.  It is a good little start-up, you should check it out at

Kate’s sister, Laura Shepherd, also started a blog earlier this year called My Northern Rose Blog which I heavily enjoy reading. It is extremely aesthetically pleasing and very satisfying, I lav it a lot, check it out here –


I do of course realise that I haven’t ACTUALLY talked about university throughout this entire piece and this is because honestly, this year is first year this year is the year you make mistakes and learn basics and NEXT year is the academic year which counts.  So eyes peeled for when I start to take education seriously… 

Shout out to all the girls in the industry who are killing it.  This time next year, I hope to be as close to my goals as you are.


Lifestyle · Travel

A stylish stay with Ibis: Liverpool

If you know me then you know I’m all about last minute plans, usually because I always leave things to the very possible last second to organise. So, on Sunday morning when I realised I needed somewhere to live temporarily post-Liverpool Sound City, I quickly jumped on the internet and luckily discovered a twin room in the beautiful Ibis Styles Hotel on Dale Street, Liverpool.  If like me, you’re one for simple quirkiness and aren’t afraid of swapping a traditional English breakfast for granola, brie and more croissants than you could shake a stick at – then look no further!

The Ibis Styles Hotel is located in the commercial district of Liverpool, near the courts and roughly a ten-minute walk to infamous Albert Dock and Beatles Story.  Branded as ‘the hotel that sings’, every room is ‘musically themed’, meaning it has the essence of The Beatles plastered all over it.  Whether it’s from the subtle psychedelic carpets, spiralling song lyrics or simply a pop of colour splattered across the room – the music of the legendary band is seriously alive in this hotel.

Walking into the hotel is different.  You are greeted by a colourful chill-out area and a bar.  It is 2 pm and there is no bartender… Where is the front desk?  The Styles hotel has decided to drop the formalities, the pay-at-the-desk and the awkward reception check-out conversation.  This is the internet era and when booking your hotel, an automatic check-in is applied (if you want of course.)  You just need to find a lovely staff member who swipes your paying card for security reasons, gives you your room key and sends you on your way.

The lifts are card-automated – so if you’re not staying at the hotel you’re not using the lift to get up to the rooms.  This idea allows you to feel fully secured and extremely safe, especially when you are staying at the hotel alone like I was.

I was designated Room 501, and it was so refreshingly lovely!  The room in all consisted of two extremely soft twin beds, with unbleached sheets; a desk area for working if you are on business or have some rambling thoughts you need to write down; a wall mounted TV; a wardrobe filled with complimentary coffee, tea and a hairdryer; a gorgeously clean bathroom fitted with two towels and shampoo/body wash and two MASSIVE mirrors, perfect for selfies.

Adorning the bathroom door was a swirl of the word ‘road’ in various different languages such as Spanish and German, as well as along the back wall next to the beds in a wavy fashion.  See pictures for a clearer understanding.

The room was immaculately clean, safe, tidy and friendly.  The greyscale theme with a pop of pink and blue carpeting was seriously inviting as well as extremely calming.  There were no garish colours nor was there anything causing an eye-sore.  I loved the room so much that I rank it highly as one of the best rooms I’ve stayed in for a   l o n g time.

On my way into the hotel after the festival, I was kindly reminded that breakfast was being served from six am until half 11, due to it being a bank holiday weekend. HELLO LIE IN.  At about half nine I made my way downstairs to the bar area, where a continental feast was put on.

In kooky glass, jugs were every juice option under the sun: apple, pineapple, orange and cranberry just to name a few, shots of what looked like tomato juice? (I was far too scared to try) and alongside these the largest bowl of bananas I’ve ever seen.  Moving across there was rows of soft granola and natural greek yoghurt in v. cute jars, a selection of vegetables (cucumbers and tomatoes sliced two ways), ham and pastrami and the largest cheeseboard in the world.

I am trying slowly and surely to be dairy free, but in situations like this, where there are thirty slices of soft, creamy brie piled high on a wooden board – it would be rude to say no, right?  I died and went to cheese heaven.  Future Ella, please don’t be disappointed in me.

A selection of slices of bread and a basket of croissants was also on offer.  I lost count of how many croissants I managed to dunk into my three (!!) lattes and scoff into my mouth.  As the saying goes, when in Liverpool…Right?

After I had doubled my weight in the food I edged my way back up to my hotel room, packed up my belongings and headed downstairs for check out.  Simple and effective, I again found one of the staff members and handed her my room key.  A couple hours later I received a confirmation text saying I had been successfully checked out. I liked this very much as it felt as if I was personally being thanked by the company for staying.  So here I am, returning that thanks.

Fast service, friendly and affordable for a hotel of such fantastic description – if you ever need somewhere to stay in Liverpool I would highly recommend the Ibis Styles Hotel on Dale Street.  I’m now itching to get travelling and find out what the rest of the Ibis Styles Hotels are like across Europe?  Please give me recommendations for any that you’ve stayed in!

See you soon, world,

Ella Scott


New Year’s Resolutions: 5 Months Later

Remember those pesky New Year’s Resolutions you made on January 1 which you PROMISED you would stick to this year?  ‘This year will be different, this is the year I accomplish blankety blank blank blank’.  Remember? Me neither, however, I put mine in writing for the world to see… Bad move, Ella – now you gotta’ look at what you promised yourself and comment on your progress….


  • Stop being sad about losing mates

Welcome to 2017, the year I genuinely entered with friends I could count on one of my hands.  Fast forward five months and I have seriously planted some firm roots in some real good rays of sunshine.  No more negativity is coursing through my veins about not having many mates to go out and enjoy the sun with, go drinking with, cry on their shoulders when I have failed an assignment with.

I’ve grown closer (if that’s even possible) to my day-one-until-forever best friends, made some serious gal and guy pals for whom I will hold close to my heart for a considerably long time and have also rekindled friendships with some of those who fell out of my life in the last couple of years, too.  I’m still bad at keeping on top of messaging people and staying in contact but I’m working on it.

I no longer feel awful about losing my friends… Why should I when I have picked up some extraordinary faces while cleansing the air of those who I no longer fit in with?  Life is about being happy, it isn’t about getting upset over spillage.


  • Start going out sober

Where once I was a double gin, lime and lemonade with a side of jagerbomb girl… I’ve turned into one of those ‘prossecco girls’.  “You know the type, loud as a motorbike but wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight”…. Right, Jay-Z?

I still love a pint or seven.  I still love going out, I now love chatting nonsense to my best mates, sipping on something bubbly, and I still enjoy getting hammered and eating cheesy chips and gravy at 4am.  I’m not very good at going out sober because when the elixir of fun hits my lips it’s a WHOLE new level.  I just love it. However, if I don’t want a drink, I’m learning that I do not have to say yes to the strongest substance possible.

I went to Crazy Pedro’s in the NQ the other night and drank Hooch Hoola. Honestly, if you haven’t tried this sweet alcoholic beverage then you are missing out  B I G  style.  I was still having alcohol, I was still drinking, I was still joining in… But I wasn’t downing vodka or sloshing tequila slammers and I didn’t feel like I was drinking to get drunk.  A serious rarity.

I went to York to see my best friend in the world a couple weeks ago and essentially had a sober night out in Fibbers.  (Those of you who know the York nightlife will feel outraged that I and Kate went to Fibbers on 3 cans of beer each at 12 pm.) And earlier last week, my work do ended up with me having all the fun in the world on 2 pints of Paulaner.

None of these nights out have been 100% sober, but I’m working on it.  Every step is one in the right direction.  I still have seven months to master the idea of a ‘sober night out’.


  • Experience live music once a week

Fail.  Complete fail.  I haven’t seen a band or an artist live this year.  Slap on the wrist, Ella.

However, I do have real plans to attend Liverpool Sound City, report on Isle Of Wight Festival for Gigslutz and am seriously debating whether to splurge on a Reading & Leeds Festival day ticket just to see my boys, Kasabian.  Watch this space.  But for now, FAIL.

Note: I just found this song on Youtube from the My Little Pony series and my god, this is my new jam.


  • Gimmie a little sparkle!

You can see from my Amie Skincare post, that the first part of my ‘self-love and self-care’ 2017 New Year’s Resolution has been successful.  They say don’t fix something that isn’t broken (my skin is currently amazing) but I want to add the likes of toner, eye cream and a heavier moisturiser into my routine.  If you have ANY recommendations please, please send them my way!

I’m eating way healthier (with a lot of pizza-and-chocolate-bar shaped bumps along the way) I’ve lost weight, I’ve stopped drinking as much, I’m treating myself (TREAT YO’ SELF) to things rather than food and basically, I couldn’t be happier!


  • If you want it, get it

After I wrote my A Minor Depressive Episode blog post, I went out and bought a truckload of things that I just NEEDED.  A Burts Bees conditioner, toilet wipes, coffee and hair mousse are just some of the things I went out and spent my hard-earned dolla’ on.  They’re not the most exciting things ever but I bloody needed them and I was so thankful to myself, too.  You need to love yourself.

The idea of ‘nothing is getting half-arsed in 2017’ is a big one.  I’m still drowning at university (will I ever not be?), I’m still not reading enough and I’m still not putting 100% into everything I do.  But Jesus, I’m really trying!

Something which is a serious want of mine is a body and a bloody fantastic body at that.  At the moment I’ve got an alright body.  I have good boobs, and nice hair, and a good waist.  However, I also have chunky thighs, cellulite on the back of said-chunky thighs and hips which I frankly just hate.  SO ELLA, get yo’ ass to the gym.

There are parts that I love about myself, and parts that I despise, and ‘not half-assing anything in 2017’ applies to the idea that I have to love every part and every inch of my body.  Not just loving my boobies and then hating my bum.  All of it, you hear me?  You need to know you’re the bee’s knees, Ella, go do some squats and feel GOOD.



  • Stick in at University

Yeah… I’m just going to leave this one here.  I have exams which I am going to prepare for with the best of my ability and come September I am really going to nail the second year.

She says now….


So as a recap: I’m doing awful on the live music and university front but other than that, I’m working really hard to be as good as gold.  Well on my way to saying “2017? Bitch, I did that so well”.   How are your New Years Resolutions going?  We’re only five months in, a lot can happen in the rest!


E x


A Minor Depressive Episode

I suffer from depressive episodes.  Not major episodes which last for weeks, which circle my head with the feeling of nausea-inducing emptiness or swarming guilt caused from being lethargic during the day.  Just a few hours at a time.

The phrase “you do not have it as bad as some people” annoys me.  If your depressive episode lasts for one hour or ten, twenty minutes or twenty hours, it does not make yours any less severe, or important than anybody else’s.

I usually literally feed my depressive episodes.  With my negative body image, the intake of food (which coincidently fits in with my illness) doubles.  This obviously increases the intensity of how I feel.  Today, I ate half a dark chocolate Lindt bunny which my mom bought me for Easter.  This tied with my current state, bled the feeling of betrayal into my brain.  The three emotions of disappointment are as follows:

  • I’ve been really trying to eat healthily and I’ve just gone back on my weight loss by eating half a huge chocolate rabbit.
  • Knowing I don’t really need the food intake, I’m just attempting (and undeniably failing) to make myself feel better.
  • I wanted to keep the rabbit until long after Easter. I ultimately am ashamed that I have had to open it and could not control my cravings.

But, it is just a chocolate bunny?  Why am I so upset about eating a chocolate rabbit?  I can just go buy another one.  I know this.  But I am psychologically projecting my hurt, dismay and sadness onto the idea that I am upset with myself because I have eaten some chocolate.

I cannot describe to you what having a depressive episode would be like for you, because there is not a mirror image of what mine is.  Sometimes I am capable of coping.  Other times I am not.  Sometimes I can wallow in self-pity for hours.  Other times I can snap out of it in a minute.  There is no describing to somebody who has not had a depressive episode/suffered from depression themselves, what you are feeling.  You cannot empathise with something you have never experienced, no matter how much you would love to try.

I personally understand the rough pattern that my mind takes.  I have an event which causes intense heartache and overwhelming stress.  My coping mechanisms are to eat and to cry.  Eventually after the first blow, I will cry so much that I no longer know what I am crying about.  After this, I ponder.  After thinking, I am fine.  I’m still down, grumpy and moody, but I no longer feel ‘sad’.  I then eat.  I fill the pit of my stomach with food that I don’t really want.  After I eat, his is where the emptiness kicks in.  During the emptiness, I need somebody or something (like work) to take it away through distraction.  After the distraction, I am completely fine, and it numbingly feels like it never happened. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

This is just me.  This is my skeleton of what happens during a depressive episode.  Maybe yours follows the routine but meanders off into a different direction.  Maybe it does not fit my mould.  Does that make it any less worthy? No.

Sometimes it is really hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but there always is one.  There is always one creeping at the back.  And when the sunshine hits and the depressive episode ebbs away, life is brilliant and my outlook regains positivity.  The problem is, the time between the darkness and the light switches every time.

There is no wrong way to deal and there is no right way to deal, I just try to always maintain strength.

E x


Food · Lifestyle

A dairy-free Nutella: Sweet Freedom Choc Pot

Being dairy-free for me is bloody difficult.  Not only do I constantly crave chocolate, want Nutella on toast at all times of the day and feel the need to have the Not Chicken Nuggets from work (Yard & Coop, NQ) in and around my mouth more than would be deemed acceptable – quitting dairy is (and will probably always be) an uphill struggle.  However, to make the ban a little bit more tantalisingly sweeter I have discovered the moreish Sweet Freedom Choc Pot.

I’ve self-enrolled myself in the Sweet Freedom family for a couple months now.  See my raving post on the Choc Shot here. And obviously, I have been buzzing about the idea of a dairy-free Nutella-alternative since the brand announced earlier this year that it would be hitting ASDA shelves.  Upsettingly however, my local ASDA have JUST got the choc pot in stock extremely recently!

That’s going straight in my bahsket.

The details:

Sweet Freedom prides themselves on the ethic of ‘I do not’ and ‘no way’.  This means all of their products (including the Choc Pot) contain and are free from:

  • Chemical processing
  • Palm Oil
  • Dairy, gluten, nuts and GMOs
  • Preservatives

Their products are made naturally in the UK, and are suitable for the veggies and vegans striving among us.  Basically – its super good stuff and ANYTHING is better than a product promoting the dairy industry.

The Ingredients:

Listed on the 250g pot, the ingredients are as follows:

  • Apple extract
  • Grape and carob extract
  • Water
  • Cocoa
  • Natural Flavouring
  • Rapeseed Oil
  • Sunflower lecithin

Shall we compare this to the list of ingredients on a Nutella pot?

  • Sugar
  • Palm Oil
  • Hazelnuts
  • Fat-reduced cocoa
  • Skimmed milk powder
  • Whey powder (milk)
  • Emulsifier: Lecithin and Vanillin

If you’re not sold already just on the ingredients list alone then let’s dissect the Nutritional information.  Each element listed is per 100g of substance.

Choc Pot:

Energy kJ: 1143
Energy kcal: 272
Fat: 8g
Fat of which Saturates: 3g
Carbohydrates: 43g
Carbohydrates of which Sugars: 38g
Fibre: 7g
Protein: 3g
Salt: 0g


Energy kJ: 2278
Energy kcal: 546
Fat: 31.6g
Fat of which Saturates: 11g
Carbohydrates: 57.6
Carbohydrates of which Sugars: 56.8
Fibre: N/A
Protein: 6g
Salt: 0.114g

Now I’m not being funny – but it doesn’t take a mathematician to put two and seven together to produce the outcome that the Choc Pot is WAY better for you than Nutella.  Obviously, both are a calorific treat but come on, if I can have chocolate spread on a crumpet for breakfast and not feel as guilty as I usually would, which one am I going to select in the supermarket?

Taste test:

For some (me 80% of the time) it’s more about the taste than anything.  Obviously, the sugary, heavenly smooth and sickly substance of Nutella is a dream.  It’s so bloody good and in reality, I am always going to be in love with that little jar of heaven.  But deep down I know the Choc Pot is the all-around winner.

While Nutella you can gulp down serving after serving, the rich combination of ingredients and smooth dark chocolate cocoa component seriously only allows you to have a teaspoon full of Choc Pot.  You don’t want any more than that.  It might not be as sickly as Nutella, but it is as satisfying.  It’s like Cadburys VS Lindt.  Both are heavenly, but one is a lot easier to swallow a bar whole than the other.

I absolutely love it.  It’s seriously changed the way I see toast in the morning (dat look of love doe) and I genuinely feel SO much better about indulging in a spoon for a little taste of something sweet.  Does it make me sad that I am enthusing about chocolate spread?  Pitting the both against each other?  Maybe but maybe not.  Seriously though, try it for yourself – you won’t be disappointed!

Get ya mitts on the Sweet Freedom Choc Pot chocolate spread now, available in selected ASDA and Boots stores.

E x


Lifestyle · Manchester

Ella Has A Meltdown

You know when you have those nights where you get far too drunk to function and the next day you lie in bed, in a pillow fortress, regretting ever putting alcohol anywhere near your mouth and vowing to never sip on the devil’s juice again?  Yep.  Thanks 42’s, my state last week was ALL YOUR FAULT.

Just kidding, I still love you.

So basically my hangover kicked in the same day as my pill-induced period and I cried.  I cried because I was sick, because I couldn’t eat because I was bleeding from my vagina (which is always an inconvenience) because I had left chips in the oven and my flat smelt horrible but in all honesty, I mainly cried because I wanted to go home.  Home, home – as in leave my university course right now in Manchester and move home to Northumberland.

“You just went on one night out, Ella, chill out”

It’s a big jump from crying because you’re hungover and crying because you want to leave your educational course, is it not?  Did that last can of Red Stripe really push you over the edge Ella, and made you question whether English really was your destined path in life?  No of course not, but the thought process and need for immediate educational withdrawal stemmed from just one night out.


Last year all I did was go out.  I drank three to four times a week.  All of my ‘friends’ were people who just wanted to go out and stay up until 8am chatting nonsense in the kitchen.  Every other day was a write-off day.  I stopped eating healthy.  I stopped seeing people.  I stopped exercising.  I stopped leaving the flat.  I stopped going to my previous course.  I stopped writing.  Basically I stopped being me and that is extremely scary to go through.

Present day:

42’s happened.  I got so drunk and I walked home by myself and I burnt chips and I woke up in the morning and I seriously felt as if I had transported myself back to a year ago.  I felt I had taken a 360 degree step back and action needed to be taken so that I would never, ever allow myself to feel like that again.

Leave Manchester = no nights ever like that again! 

In hindsight, I should’ve made myself a smoothie, some Nutella on toast and some sugary tea but do we ever make good decisions in a time of crisis?

I rang my mom and told her I was coming home on the weekend.  I talked to my two best friends and explained I was having a breakdown because of my night out and that I wanted to move home and quit university and never go back to Manchester.

Logically I learned this is stupid (thanks Kate).  Why would I want to leave my favourite city in the world just because I got drunk and had a write off day?  Plainly speaking, I am extremely worried about ever falling back into the ways of the alcoholic comas I used to spell through.  Alcohol was forever my saviour, my friend on a good day and my medicine on a bad day.  Why would I need to go to uni and get a life when I could just move home, save money and spend it on visiting my friends and getting pissed?  Do you see my problem?  This is a bad thought process.  Alcohol is NOT the answer and moving home to avoid said ‘not the answer’ is definitley, double-ly NOT the answer!

Don’t get me wrong, I love having a beer after work, or having a glass of wine in a bar in Northern Quarter with my friends to catch up or if it’s sunny get me to The Oast House NOW.   I am a total sucker for a controlled, social drink and I 100% know when it’s home time.  However, I didn’t know that last year.  The main difference in myself between this year and last is the realisation that I have changed and I am no longer the party girl I was.  I have previously mentioned this epiphany in my ‘I’ve Lost My Party Girl Persona’ blog post.

In no shape or form am I telling anybody to stop drinking, having the time of their lives staying up until the early hours of the morning because we are young, full of life and fucking fun and doing that stuff is GREAT.

However, I am not the gal I was last year and it is extremely frightening when I slip back into that persona.  The party girl who didn’t have any ambition to propel her life forward, to embark on an adventure to enhance her creative ability and basically craft a future: I turned into her last week when I wanted to leave my course.  I never, ever want to be here again.  So, here’s the plan of action.


`1) Stop going on nights out and getting mortal. It was my New Year’s Resolution to still go out and have fun but to not drink.  Do it, Ella.  Get your ass into gear please.

2) Do my university course. You gave up last year, and I do not care what kind of bullshit excuse you come up with, you’re finishing your degree whether you like it or not.

3) Go home more. I’m at home this very moment and it is so special just lying in bed with my dog, going for coffee with my best friend and eating fish with my mom. The simple things in life are the best.  Just try to get out of Manchester a bit more.

4) Write, write, write. Get your blog moving.  Meet people and communicate and network.  Put more time and effort into content for your own site and other sites.  BE that productive girl that people go “Omg how does she do it”.  Be her, get motivated, get sorted.

5) Don’t be the girl that you were last year. If you are her for a night, make sure you don’t flip out the next day and make your world come crashing down.  We all have our moments.  Just stay calm, breathe and make sure you have a long period between feeling bad about yourself.

The ramble has ended and honestly I currently feel so much better for getting my feelings of my chest.  Stick around for some fun, interesting content coming soon (I promise my Berlin stuff will be on the way EVENTUALLY) and thank you to everyone who read the waffle.

For now everything’s coming up Milhouse,

E x

Food · Lifestyle

PG Tips Strawberry Cupcake Green Tea

Banish the four teaspoons of sugar in your tea and wave goodbye to those mini cake wrappers you have brashly shoved down the back of your bed – PG Tips have created a sweet but insanely healthy alternative to shovelling down sugar, in the form of tea.  A sweet aftertaste with properties such as speeding up metabolism and lowering blood-sugar levels: introducing PG Tips Strawberry Cupcake Green Tea.


 Yeah, you read that right STRAWBERRY CUPCAKE GREEN TEA.

 I received a little PG Tips envelope through my letterbox with my delicious sample of Strawberry Cupcake Green Tea concealed inside, and within ten minutes I was already guzzling it down.  I just could not help myself.

Taking form in the classic PG Tips pyramid bag, the green tea was instantly plucked from the foil wrapper (to keep fresh) and dunked straight into some freshly boiled water.  Now I was going to have coffee, but the prospect of this tea was so much more inviting!



With the refreshing tea only needing to infuse for roughly 1-2 minutes, it has never been easier to consume some goodness, whether you have just awoken from a broken sleep or a hungover nap: 2 minutes, bam, and green tea.

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget to drink enough, especially when we’re all so busy.  Luckily, green tea is 99% water, and green tea can contribute to your daily fluid intake”


The aromas coming from the Strawberry Cupcake-infused cuppa were divine.  Super poignant and luxurious, the smells wafting from the tea were warm and sweet yet still rejuvenating for the soul.

Comparing tastes to smells there was a huge difference.  Where you expect it to be sickly and overpowering, the taste is smooth and calm, with a definite hint of the Strawberry Cupcake flavour on the back of your throat.  Satisfying your sweet tooth cravings while doing the best for your body, this tea actually makes you want to drink it, not make you feel like you have too.


Honestly, go and get you shoes on; go and get your jacket on (who cares if you’re still in your PJ’s?) and get down to your local supermarket and GRAB SOME Of THIS BLOODY TEA.  I am about to do exactly the same (I might swap my shorts for some long pants though; it’s a bit cold right now in Manchester) because this has revolutionised my green tea experience.

Ella Scott