Panic Monster Abroad (part 1)

Anyone who knows me or has read between the lines of my posts will know that I worry about everything. Literally, everything. From your average concerns like ‘did I lock the door?’ and ‘do my hips look big in this?’ (they probably do, I’m not really sure why I continue to ask this question) to the slightly more disruptive ‘what if I get lost?’ or ‘what if it kills me?’ Essentially, that part of How To Be Single where Dakota Johnson says super dramatically I TALK MYSELF OUT OF THINGS THAT I REALLY WANT TO DO is something I relate to on a spiritual level. I just worry so much it ends up not being worth it. Until now. Because on Thursday, Teamales, I’m going to New York City aka this panic monster is going abroad. So in order to prevent myself from having another mental breakdown, I’m going to share my fears with you and hopefully we can face/laugh at them (depending on how sympathetic you are) together.

Before I begin, remember my blog-anniversary giveaway is running at the mo and you can enter to win a fabulously feminist bundle HERE!

Firstly, you have to conquer the airport.

1st Blogiversary Giveaway

Teamales! I’m so excited because this week marks one whole year of Half Girl Half Teacup- a whole blady year! Genuinely have no idea how I’ve managed to commit myself to a blog when I struggle to pay attention to an 8 minute TED talk, but here we are, welcome to the party (I like to think of this celebration happening in a big room covered in vagina shaped bunting with a table of pork pies in the middle and Fetty Wap blaring out the Sonos, while we play games like Pin the ponyTail on Jessica Ennis and Spin the Bottle-d up hatred of the patriarchy. You’re loving it already I can tell.) 

But now to the even more exciting bit- the GIVEAWAY. I’ve spent the past few months gathering the perfect feminist gift bundle because after all, this is a feminist blog and I refuse to provide anything less than gender equality to my readers (even if that means a super dodgy Etsy search history…) I wanted to compile something  über precious as a thank you to everyone that’s ever read, liked, commented on, followed or even thought about HGHT. Without you I would have no hobbies to put on my CV. So, it’s been a year in the making but, what is the prize?

A-Z Before Bed

I saw this tag on someone else’s blog (but I genuinely can’t remember whose so soz to all the A-Z tag doers out there, just know that it could’ve been you) and I thought it was a really cute way to get to know somebody. Aka I thought my one year blogging anniversary was this week but it’s actually next week and I needed a filler post so ta-dah.

Waitrose essentially, you use the alphabet and every letter reflects a different aspect of you- I’m going to be alternating between things I hate in red and things I love in green to make it a bit more spicy (and also the colours of Nandos). So, moving Taylor Swiftly on… (That awkward moment when you realise the keyboard isn’t arranged in alphabetical order and you have to sing the ABC song to know which letter comes after E.)

Antifeminism. Duh.

Bb Brother It was his christening yesterday and honestly it was the cutest thing ever, however the age gap does prove serious problems- especially prominent when I’m pushing him round Caffè Nero and all the middle aged women with their Macchiatos and blueberry muffins stop mid-sip to whisper to the woman beside them about the ‘teen mum’. Like proper staring. They’d never make MI5.

Contouring My mantra is (biological essentials aside) if Kim Kardashian can do it then I probably can’t. Contouring is quite possibly the greatest evidence for this claim, followed by wearing double denim and naming offspring after directions.

We’re Talking Periods. Period.

After 50 days of anticipation, I’m finally on my period.

In the words of Lily Allen:

Periods, we all get periods (not factually correct but we’ll sausage roll with it) every month (or 50 days in my case) (I essentially gave up menstruating for Lent) that’s what the theory is

so why then after all these years do we still feel awkward talking about them? From making our parents buy the hygeine gear on our behalf, to disguising our dysmenorrhoea as ‘tummy ache’, as a population we’ve got to admit that we are period phobes. Therefore, I am going to make us talk about Strawberry Jam Disasters to make up for the lack of conversation in the world: the things they make us do, the ways they make us feel and how we can prepare for them (so excited to discuss the app that will change your life).

Before we begin I feel like I should set the mood by explaining the term ‘Strawberry Jam Disaster‘ (sorry if you’re eating). Basically, it involved me, 2012, the white seats of my grandparents caravan- you can see where this is going, right?- and a cheeky leaky of blood. Which caused my grandma to call a family meeting because ‘someone’s spilt jam on the Laura Ashley cushion’. Cue lots of Google searches to find out how to remove JAM from fabric. Jess 1 Periods 0. They have been known as SJDs ever since (and Grandma still doesn’t know the truth).