Lockdown 3.0: Are we just exhausted?

Lockdown 3.0 has hit different.

I don’t know about you but, this time around, I feel deflated. Totally, utterly and completely deflated. Unmotivated. Unwilling. Undone. Sure, I was swashed by this wave of emotions the first and second time, but not like I have been now. I’ve even procrastinated writing this blog for almost two weeks until I was inspired by one of my favourite bloggers, Chloe Plumstead, on her Instagram stories yesterday to just get writing.

So, what is it? Is it the longing for normality? The feeling of entrapment? Is it the scary, worrying, relentless reminder that we are still amid this pandemic — the same pandemic that arose over a year ago, that has affected millions globally, that our government has so incompetently mishandled? Perhaps it’s an amalgamation of all the above and more; I could go on and on and on about how lockdowns can be so detrimental to our mental health. While these emotions were also present in Lockdown 1.0 and 2.0, they were present alongside polar emotions – motivation, willingness, success – contrary to Lockdown 3.0.

As we entered the second lockdown, I was quick to anticipate the differences between Lockdown 1.0 and 2.0, concluding that the main difference was that, come Lockdown 2.0, we knew. We knew that another lockdown was necessary to assist in preventing the continuous spread of the cruel disease. We knew that we could stay connected with our pals via Zoom, even if we were sick of the abundant virtual pub quizzes. We also knew that the implications could be detrimental. If we knew all this back then, you’d think the same would apply again now, right? Alas, we feel more deflated than before, thus begging the same question I posed in that blog: what’s different this time?

Image description: An unmade bed in front of a window

By Lockdown 2.0, as I said, we were somewhat prepared. We were familiar with the prospect of a lockdown unlike the first time. Some were more frustrated than others — and for good reason — and others were more motivated to reignite the spark that charged them through Lockdown 1.0. Most felt a combination of the two; I was certainly frustrated, but I coped by writing. At the time, we were too provided an idea for how long the lockdown would last, so I suppose that made it slightly easier to withstand.

Remember Lockdown 1.0? Of course you do; that’s a bad question. What’s worse is that it began almost one year ago. My point is: in Lockdown 1.0, despite the tragedies caused by COVID-19, we were overwhelmed with a plethora of positivity. Our socials were inundated with our friends excessively exercising, our colleagues concocting delicious dinners and celebrities sending soulful messages. Hell, if it wasn’t for Lockdown 1.0, who knows? I might not have created this blog and since written over 30 pieces totalling to almost 45,000 words. Most, if not all, of us achieved something that we should be proud of between March and June 2020, I’m sure – and that was inspiring.

Lockdown 3.0. When non-essential retail closed in many areas across the country in December, I sensed another national lockdown was imminent. However, having to enter a new “tier” of lockdown restrictions on the Sunday before Christmas? That sucked. Then, being deprived of a somewhat normal Christmas? That sucked more. And, with many unfortunately having to spend Christmas alone, yet again due to the government’s mishandling of the situation – Cummings, terribly confusing rules and failing test and trace to name a few, as Dr Rosena so rightly pointed out – from the beginning? That sucked the most.

Christmas… A common theme in my evaluation of Lockdown 3.0 there. Is that what defines this lockdown, then? The deprivation of a normal, celebratory, happy Christmas? Or is that just one of many definitions – the others including the longing for normality, the feeling of entrapment and the scary, worrying, relentless reminder that we are still amid this pandemic? Or maybe it’s none of these at all…

Maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it’s something so simple, so mundane, so raw. Maybe it’s… exhaustion.

I think in trying to decipher the defining factors of both Lockdown 2.0 and 3.0, I’ve subconsciously circumvented admitting to the fact that perhaps we’re just fed up. I’ve tried so hard to rationalise the possibilities for feeling so deflated that I’ve dismissed the possibility that maybe, just maybe, we’re fed (.) the fuck (.) up. Fed up with the longing for normality, with the feeling of entrapment and with the imbeciles leading our country, hence feeling unmotivated, unwilling and undone. However, it almost feels unfair to admit to feeling this way. Selfish, perhaps. Wrong. Who am I, a non-essential worker, to say that I’m merely “fed up” when our essential workers – especially our NHS heroes – have been working tirelessly from the onset of this pandemic? Instead, I should just shut the fuck up, right?

I don’t know. Perhaps it is unfair in some ways, and perhaps it’s okay, too.

There’s no denying that there’s an underlying, yet overbearing, desperation. A desperation to go “back to normal”. A desperation to see and spend time with and hug our family and friends. A desperation to escape the mess made by our government. And that goes for everybody: not just non-essential workers, but our key workers, our healthcare workers and everyone in between. This entire situation hasn’t been easy for anyone; it’s certainly affected us all in different ways, but to say it’s been anything other than easy would be a downright lie.

Are we just exhausted? Or are there a million potential reasons for feeling so deflated? Unmotivated? Unwilling? Undone? Okay, maybe not a million, but certainly a lot – and perhaps exhaustion is one of the predominant reasons this time around, whether that’s okay or not.

Stay safe, everyone, and keep fighting – a better year is on the horizon.

Love,

Little Pav ♡

“This year hasn’t been all bad”: Lessons we learnt in 2020

If you could describe 2020 in one word, what would it be? Exhausting? Disastrous? Shambolic? I think we can all agree that, for the most part, this year has been catastrophic to say the least. I don’t even have to expand for you to comprehend why; it is a truth universally acknowledged (a testament to my fellow former A level English Literature students right there). While the topic of coronavirus has predominantly led the narrative of 2020, there have been several other defining moments that have taught us valuable lessons which should not go unmissed. As I reflected upon the shitshow of the past year, here are what I have figured to be the five most important lessons we learnt in 2020.

Image description: A notebook with flowers tucked inside

It costs nothing to be kind

Back in February, the awful news that TV Presenter Caroline Flack took her own life – which was said to be exacerbated by the press and social media trolls – sparked the “Be Kind” Campaign. Though it shouldn’t have to take a TV personality’s – or anybody’s, for that matter – passing for any of us to realise this, many came together to show their support by using the #BeKind hashtag as a plea for media outlets and social media users to be more considerate online. As the year progressed, we saw even more catastrophes across the globe caused by the impact of COVID-19 which inevitably posed further mental health challenges, so the message still stands. Be kind. Always.

We can all do better

Remember the little black square you posted on your Instagram feeds on 2 June in the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement? It’s still important. Following the tragic murder of George Floyd back in May, many – again – came together, both physically and virtually, to protest racism and police brutality. You might have seen the infamous quote “it is not enough to not be racist; you must be anti-racist” time and time again amid the movement, but it speaks volumes. If you claim to not be racist, what are you doing about it? Whether it’s signing petitions or calling out your friends for their racial biases, we can all do better in playing our part to actively fight against racism.

Never take life for granted

Throughout 2020, millions all over the world were ordered to stay at home to assist in preventing the spread of coronavirus. Here in the UK, we have encountered three lockdowns: a three-month national lockdown from March to June, a shorter lockdown from 5 November to 2 December, and a tiered system of restrictions from 19 December to… well, we don’t know yet. In spite of the omnishambles of our government’s response to COVID-19, our time spent at home, losing loved ones to a cruel disease and distance from a normal lifestyle highlighted that we must never take life for granted. Family, friends, health, happiness, time; you name it, we’re now more appreciative of it than ever.

There is hope for the future

At long last, Trump has been voted out of The White House. Although his sheer mismanagement of COVID-19 is enough to dub him as an appalling president, there are so many more reasons his removal from office is victorious in itself. He’s narcissistic. He’s racist. He’s misogynistic. He’s homophobic. He’s transphobic. He’s in denial. Sure, Biden isn’t perfect, but the removal of Trump means there is hope again not just for American citizens, but for the world. And, with Kamala Harris who is not only the first woman and person of colour to serve as vice president, but also a diversity activist and generally great debater, America is one step closer to really becoming great again.

If there’s anything you need to survive, it’s toilet paper

At the onset of the COVID-19 outbreak back in March, the empty toilet paper shelves in our local supermarkets were telling of the fact that the one commodity we need to survive a pandemic is… toilet paper. It didn’t make sense to me then; it doesn’t make sense to me now. But, for some reason, the pandemic induced panic buyers to stockpile toilet paper. Was it the notion of having to stay at home? Is it because toilet paper has no expiration date? Are people generally low on toilet paper? Whatever the reason, it was laughable. At least now we know that, if we are to ever face another pandemic in our lifetimes, all we need is plentiful toilet paper.

All in all, this year hasn’t been all bad. Granted, I miss the mundanities of everyday life: waking up, making a coffee, hopping on public transport frivolously, enjoying my colleagues’ company without the worry of maintaining social distancing, hopping on the bus back home, dressing up, heading to our favourite restaurant, engaging in date night, ordering more wine without having to order more food to accompany it, returning home, catching up with my friends, making plans, and doing it all over again (obviously, we didn’t go on date night every night, but you get the gist). Notwithstanding, I am grateful for all the lessons 2020 has taught me and they have certainly influenced a more refreshing approach to the new year.

What lessons did you learn this year?

I wish you health, happiness and less havoc for 2021.

Love,

Little Pav ♡

Here we go again: Coping with the Christmas lockdown

Here we go again. Another lockdown, another torrent of emotions. Sadness. Frustration. Anxiety. As if this year hasn’t been draining enough, the tail end of 2020 saw many of us entering a new “tier” of lockdown restrictions which – to top it all off – covers the Christmas period. While it was clear that the pandemic was still ongoing following Lockdown 2.0, perhaps even more clearly than before, a faint ray of hope shone upon us as we “non-essential” workers were unfurloughed, high streets reopened and restrictions were relaxed on Wednesday 2 December so we could enjoy the festive period with family and friends. Now, due to the government’s incompetence in controlling the coronavirus from the onset of its outbreak back in March (which, may I gently remind you, is only three months away again), our Christmas plans – though perhaps unusual to begin with – have been completely ruined. Those who don’t live with family now can’t see their family. Those who don’t live with their partners now can’t see their partners. Those who live alone now can’t see anyone. That’s not to say that we can’t still try to make the most of each other’s company as we have for the entirety of 2020 through the likes of Zoom; while incomparable to being with your loved ones, we should be thankful that we can still communicate with them in such a manner.

As the first two lockdowns, the recent news has undoubtedly affected many, including myself. Following Lockdown Numero Uno, I unravelled my emotions of uselessness due to my inability to make my contribution to society as a non-essential worker, anxiety surrounding the global situation and envy of those who remained occupied by working from home. Likewise, during Lockdown 2.0, I shared my despondence as I anticipated the recurrence of the platitudes that emerged from the first lockdown. This time, however, it’s different: while the prospect of another lockdown was imminent, I don’t think anybody was prepared to receive the news on a Saturday afternoon – and not just any Saturday afternoon, but the last Saturday before Christmas – and enter Tier 4 just eight hours following. Thus, it’s only understandable to feel that torrent of emotions – sadness, frustration and anxiety – and dwell on the shitshow that is 2020.

Image credit: The word COVID-19 written on a red background

Alas, here we are. Although it’s easy to dwell on the way COVID-19 has impacted our lives in different ways, it’s so important to remember to prioritise our mental wellbeing. If you’re struggling with the recent news, I hope at least one of the following suggestions will help you to cope with the Christmas lockdown:

  • Host or engage in a virtual Christmas quiz. Although the virtual pub quiz has almost become a cliché after having hosted or engaged in so many in the first lockdown and ideas had run dry by Lockdown 2.0, it wasn’t Christmas then – so, just like you would in normal circumstances, arrange a Christmas quiz with your family and friends!
  • Plan a virtual Christmas dinner/movie night. I’m so sorry if your plans with family and/or friends have been cancelled. Nonetheless, that doesn’t mean you can’t still have Christmas together – plan a virtual Christmas dinner or movie night with them and make the most of each other’s company, even if it is over Zoom!
  • Get up and get dressed. Whether you’re working from home, out of office or furloughed, put on those jeans (or your preferred bottoms), apply a little mascara and make the most of the day ahead. Sure, if you need a duvet day, take a duvet day – but be sure to take care of yourself.
  • Go for a walk. Yes, it might be freezing. Yes, it might be raining. So what? Plug in your headphones and listen to your favourite artist or podcast. Call a friend and talk as you walk. Wrap up in your gloves, scarf and raincoat and soak in some fresh air – even if it’s for 20 minutes. You won’t regret it.
  • If you need to, take a social media break. We all know social media can be detrimental to our mental wellbeing and, especially if your Christmas plans have changed last-minute, how others are spending their Christmas may be the last thing you want to see. If you need to, take a break, and focus on spending time with your loved ones – virtually or physically.
  • Reflect on your achievements this year. Generally, this year has – again – been one hell of a shitshow. Notwithstanding, that doesn’t mean we haven’t achieved anything this year. Graduated? Landed a new job? Acquired a new hobby? Whatever it is, celebrate your achievements and be proud of yourself!
  • Don’t be ashamed to feel what you feel. It doesn’t matter whether someone “has it worse”; your feelings are always valid. Whatever you’re feeling – be it sadness, frustration or anxiety – feel it. But, whatever you do, please: make sure you talk to someone about it and remember – as my last blog – it’s okay not to be okay.

I wish you all as happy a Christmas as possible and an even happier and healthier 2021.

Also, know that I’m here for a chat. You can reach out to me via my contact options here.

Love,

Little Pav ♡

Remember to be kind this Christmas

Are you okay?

Such a simple question. A question so engrossed in everyday conversation that it has almost become meaningless. How many times have you been asked are you okay? in passing – by friends, by family, by coworkers – and responded with the likes of yeah, you? or fine, thanks, when what you really wanted to say was actually, I’m not okay? Too many times, probably. So, why do we do it? Why do we respond with such? Why do we essentially lie about how we feel? I’ll tell you why: because it’s easier. It’s so much easier to say I’m fine than to delve into all the reasons why we oftentimes feel quite the opposite of “fine”, be it to save face, avoid feeling like a burden or because we think the other participant of the conversation might not really give a crap. Isn’t that sad? Isn’t it sad that we are fabricated to respond to a question with what’s “easier” than with the truth? Perhaps if we all started to express ourselves more openly rather than adhere to the conventions of small talk, the stigma surrounding mental health would subside; a matter long overdue.

Why am I talking about this? Well, because – in all honesty – I’m not okay. I’m not okay because this year has taken its toll on my mental health – on everyone’s mental health – in that we were trapped inside for months, lacked socialisation, routine and normality and saw thousands lose loved ones due to a dreadful disease. I’m not okay because it’s been almost a year since I graduated with my master’s degree and I anticipated that I’d achieve so much more than I have by now but, thanks to COVID-19, my progress was stalled. I’m not okay because I really, really miss my grandparents. Yet, every day, I put up a façade and carry on.

Image description: Coffee topped with marshmallows, cinnamon and a candy cane

The latter reason is the main reason I’m not okay right now. This Christmas will be my first Christmas without any grandparents. I’ve thought a lot recently – specifically, since my granddad passed away in August – that, at twenty-three, I’m pretty young to not have any grandparents. It’s a horrible feeling. Though I never met my dad’s dad because he unfortunately passed away before my brother and I were born and we were never close with my dad’s mum, but we were very lucky to have a great relationship with my mum’s parents, I still can’t quite fathom the fact that not one of them is still with us. Up until around seven-to-eight years ago, we’d spend every Christmas at my grandparents’ – my mum’s parents – and have the most wonderful, loud Greek-style Christmas. Things changed after my yiayia (Greek meaning “nan”) became immobile a few years before she passed away in 2016, but we would still visit them on Christmas morning. Then, my pappou (Greek meaning “granddad”) would spend the following few Christmases in a household other than his own – for instance, with us – so we still got to see or call him. But, now? We can’t see any of them. We can’t pick up the phone and exclaim Merry Christmas! and feel their smile beaming through the phone. We can’t hug them tightly as a means of expressing our affection. Things are especially different now neither of them is here for Christmas this year.

I have so many reasons to be happy. I have a loving family. I have the most incredible fiancé. I have a good job, the best friends and an adorable fur baby. I have so much to look forward to; buying our first home, our (postponed) holiday and our wedding to name a few. And I am. I am so happy for all these reasons. So happy. However, I’m also depressed for all the aforementioned reasons – the pandemic, the writing off of 2020 and the loss of my grandparents – and it’s important to remember that it’s okay to feel this way, even when we do have so much going for us. As the saying goes: “it’s okay not to be okay”. Still, we feel obliged to respond to such a simple question as are you okay? with – quite plainly – a lie.

Christmas 2020 is just around the corner (nine days away, to be precise) and, while some are more excited than ever to celebrate it this year after the crazy year we’ve had, others are not feeling so festive. The impact of COVID-19 has affected everybody in different ways but, for the most part, I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a pretty shit year. That’s why I want to kindly leave you with the following reminders (or clichés, but important ones) for this Christmas:

  • Be kind.
  • Everybody is fighting their own battle you know nothing about.
  • It’s okay not to be okay.

The next time you ask someone are you okay?, be sure to show a little more compassion. Listen. It might just make their day. Likewise, the next time you’re asked are you okay?, don’t be afraid to open up. Speak. It might just be what you need.

Take care and remember to be kind this Christmas.

Love,

Little Pav ♡

Lockdown 2.0: What’s different this time?

Yesterday, towards the end of my last working day for at least a month, an avalanche of gloom crashed over me as I anticipated Lockdown 2.0. It was the strangest feeling. Up until that moment, I thought I was prepared; “we’ve done it once before, so we can do it once again”, to quote every brand, celebrity and influencer comprising our Instagram feeds. Up until that moment, when asked “what are your plans for this lockdown?”, I would confidently respond: “you know, play more Animal Crossing, write more blogs and invest more time in myself”, as the previous lockdown. If I was so confident, then, what triggered that avalanche of gloom to crash so abruptly last night? What’s different this time? To be honest, I’m not quite sure. I guess that’s the point of this discourse: to decipher what it is exactly that has made me and many others feel so despondent this time around.

Image description: “COVID-19” written on a black background

With that, let’s backtrack to March: it was during this month that a 12-week long national lockdown was ordered, encouraging non-essential workers and the like to “stay at home, protect the NHS and save lives”, as the mantra back then quite rightly communicated. The vulnerable received letters, text messages and special mentions to shield from that of anybody other than those they reside with and have somebody else acquire their needs. Key workers – again, quite rightly – received praise for their astonishing efforts in continuing to prosper during such an unusual time. Although we were fighting a global pandemic, a sense of unity flooded the nation in that we each played our part to combat the virus.

As our time at home progressed, many of us engaged in virtual pub quizzes aplenty, explored our creativity through the likes of cooking, painting and writing and spent hours on end developing our own island paradise on Animal Crossing: New Horizons. This way of life inevitably became, in familiar terminology, the “new normal”. Notwithstanding, the tail end of Lockdown 1.0 saw the plethora of virtual pub quizzes convert into cliches, the lack of socialisation induce frustration and the yearn for a return to normality grow stronger and stronger.

Back in March, the prospect of a lockdown was entirely new to us. We’d never done it before, so we weren’t so sure as to what was in store (rhyme unintended). We’d never engaged in so many virtual pub quizzes. We’d never baked so many cakes, painted so many walls and written so many blogs. We’d never had so much time to devote to a video game. For this reason, lockdown was almost satisfying for many; it opened an abundance of avenues of artistry. On the contrary, it was also very difficult for many; some more so than others. Going so long without seeing family and friends, journeying to our favourite cities and accepting this reality was detrimental to a lot of us, both physically and mentally.

Come June, when many workplaces reopened for business and social distancing rules relaxed slightly, many – for the first time in three months – felt a fragment of relief. That’s right: just a fragment. Though it was relieving that we could return to work, reunite with loved ones and revisit some of our favourite locations, we all still felt a strong notion of uncertainty. Though social distancing measures were still encouraged, they were often flouted. Though you could not yet book a facial, you could get your beard trimmed. Though we were finally “allowed” to leave the house, the vulnerable and those living with them still felt obliged to stay at home. I related to the latter in particular given that my fiancé is deemed vulnerable; I did not yet feel safe to return to my usual position which, luckily for me, my employer was very understanding of and worked to cater to those of us in such situations.

Upon my return to my usual position in September, I quickly adapted to the second edition of the “new normal”; mask-wearing, social distancing and accepting that the pandemic was ongoing. In fact, I believe this was the case for a lot of us; following Lockdown 1.0, conversations typically derived – and still derive – from the topic of coronavirus because it’s happening. It hasn’t stopped. Every day, I receive notifications from the BBC App on my phone regarding “your morning/evening coronavirus update”. The reality is that people are still being affected by this horrendous disease. Hence Lockdown 2.0.

To answer the question at the outset, I think I’ve deciphered what’s different this time is that, although many of us explored creative outlets old and new during Lockdown 1.0, we were all impacted by the cliche of virtual pub quizzes, the lack of socialisation and the yearn for a return to normality; when businesses began to reopen and social distancing rules were relaxed, we were finally reunited with familiarity. Now Lockdown 2.0 has arrived, we know what’s in store, and we know that the implications can be detrimental. So, let’s focus on the good that came out of Lockdown 1.0 and implement them in Lockdown 2.0; book in those Zoom catch-ups with your family, friends and coworkers; bake those cakes you didn’t get to the first time around and play those video games to your heart’s content. Remember: this lockdown is necessary to help stop the spread of this cruel disease and, one day, this will all be a distant memory.

Stay safe!

Love,

Little Pav ♡

My hair and me: An ever-changing relationship

Hair. It’s a funny thing. To some, it is merely an aspect of their existence; to others, it is a means of expressing their identity. Since my early teens, I’ve had an ever-changing relationship with my hair; I’ve dyed it several colours, cut it extremely short and let it grow extremely long (as it is now) to name a few.

Just a couple of weeks before lockdown due to the coronavirus pandemic, I had plans to chop off my current long locks to donate them to The Little Princess Trust. Although restriction measures were not yet in place in the UK, it was evident that the global situation was worsening and so – amongst many others – I decided to cancel my appointment. I was certainly disappointed at the time however, I am now so glad I made that decision as quarantining has not only provided me the opportunity to let it grow even longer, as there is a demand for longer hair donations, but also to take extra care of my hair. For instance, I used to dye my hair every three months and wash it every two days; now, I haven’t coloured my hair since New Year’s Day and have washed it just once a week since April. I still very much intend to donate my locks before my return to my regular position (I am currently working from home temporarily as I explain in my blog about returning to work after having been furloughed) as the notion of providing an individual who is unable to now the ability to embrace long hair is infallible.

In light of my realisation that I will soon be giving up my long locks, I evaluate my ever-changing relationship with my hair – in the form of a timeline – hereafter.

Image description: My long hair, Summer 2019

2008. The beginning to my (unknowingly, then, dreadful) high school career. When I started high school, I had relatively long hair – it fell a couple of inches below my shoulders. In my first year of high school, I had not yet “discovered” my identity, so my natural ash-brown hair colour remained untouched.

2009. My first colour contemplation. As my mum was a hairdresser in her young adult years, her ability to dye hair in a professional manner continues. My first ever colour choice was a reddish brown (I would have loved a brighter red had it been allowed at school). Thus, my mum proceeded to dye my hair and simultaneously cut it to shoulder length for a fresh lewk.

2010. The “emo” phase. Yep, I was one of those who experienced the infamous “emo phase”. Though my favourite band at the time was The Jonas Brothers (judge all you like; bitches might not have liked them then but drool all over Nick now!), my music taste branched out to the likes of Paramore, You Me At Six, Fall Out Boy, Blink-182 and Sum 41, and my hair was a reflection of this.

How, you ask? One: my mum – again, professionally – dyed it jet black. Two: my mum’s friend – who happens to be her hairdresser – styled it in the most emo way (as per my request). The layers. Oh, the layers. In retrospect, they were laughable. The shortest layer was about an inch long and every morning before school, I would not only straighten my hair, but I would also backcomb every bloody layer.

Funny side note: I was told by multiple people in my year group that I had the “best” hair and, rumour has it, a few girls showed their hairdressers a photo of me to have it cut in a similar style. LOL. #OGtrendsetter

2011. The sudden urge to chop it all off. I specifically remember showing a photo of, and explaining to my mum’s hairdresser friend that I wanted it cut like, Frankie from The Saturdays. Remember The Saturdays? Remember Frankie? Remember her extremely short hair? That’s how I wanted mine cut, and that’s how I got it cut. Again, in retrospect? Laughable. But, the maintenance? OH-SO EASY.

2012. After several cuts to maintain the oh-so short hairstyle (and dyes to upkeep its jet blackness), I decided to grow out my hair. The grow-out stage from such a style is the absolute worst. Not only was it shorter on one side than the other, but it was also impossible to tie up for a really long time; I followed the terrible trend at the time to input as many bobby pins in the back as possible.

2013-2015. Sixth form. The “bun” all day, every day period. By the time my hair had finally reached the “long bob” stage, I was able to tie it in a bun – and not just any bun, but the neatest bun. Fortunately for me, hair donuts were a real hairstyle staple at the time and thus allowed me to tie my hair in a neat bun. Oh, and dip-dye was a real trend at the time, too, so my mum dip-dyed my back-to-natural brown hair blonde.

2016. My first year of university. By this point, my hair finally looked nice enough to leave down after two years of growing it out. As I was already used to in my high school years, I would take the time to straighten my hair once it had dried after a wash and proceed to use my straighteners briefly in the mornings when getting ready so as to ensure it stayed straight throughout the day.

2017. By the time I reached my second year of university, I realised that my hair had become “long” again; it was becoming too much to maintain before, during and after every wash. My solution? Tying it in plaits every single night and untying the plaits in the morning for a “beach waves” look created from the plaits every single day. Eventually, this routine became almost as easy to maintain as my previously short hair.

2018-2020. My hair has become too long for me to cope with. I’m surprised I’ve got this far without mentioning how bloody thick my hair is; hence, when it’s long, it’s like trying to maintain a bloody lion’s mane (don’t get me wrong, I’m really appreciative that my hair is so healthy; my comparisons are meant for exaggeration!). Now, I have the urge to again chop it all off. Just not so short this time.

In preparation for my chop (before I cancelled my appointment back in March), I researched everything I needed to know about donating hair to The Little Princess Trust. I am delighted to confirm that my hair is fit for donation according to their terms and conditions and, as mentioned previously, the demand for longer hair donations continues to grow. Hence, I intend to donate at least 14 inches of hair (I’m not quite sure how long my hair is at present in inches – I just know that I want to cut it to a long bob so, if my hair below my shoulders is actually longer than 14 inches right now, great!).

Your hair is a part of you. Just as you like to take care of your body by showering, moisturising and exercising, remember to take care of your hair. Do some research into its type to find the right shampoos and conditioners for you. Take the time to put a mask on it every now and then. Brush it gently. And, if you can, consider donating it to those who don’t have such an ability.

Take care of your hair – and take care.

Love,

Little Pav ♡

Running out of ideas for your next virtual pub quiz? Here’s some inspiration

The virtual pub quiz has seemingly taken the world by storm amid the coronavirus pandemic. As families and friends across the globe have gone weeks – even months – without seeing each other to assist in stopping the spread of COVID-19, many – including my own – have turned to hosting and/or engaging in regular virtual pub quizzes over the likes of Zoom to keep in touch and spark a little joy during what is such an unprecedented time. While they might have become a cliché now, I for one can certainly say they’ve helped me to stay somewhat sane; they have provided opportunities to keep me occupied and have something to look forward to. Being an extrovert, I’ve confidently jumped at the chance to create and host a quiz on a few occasions now. The first few times I volunteered, I had many ideas for quiz rounds; the last time (a mere 24 hours ago), however, I admittedly had no more of my own. All my and others’ ideas had been executed already. Alas, for the first time, I turned to Google for the apparently highly-searched “virtual pub quiz ideas”. In light of my virtual pub quiz brain fart, I’ve amalgamated some ideas for quiz rounds from quizzes I’ve previously created, participated in and discovered amongst Google’s many responses for those who might be stuck for ideas for their next virtual pub quiz, too.

Image description: A neon sign that reads “Cocktails”

1.    “Name that musical”

In the first virtual pub quiz I hosted, my first round was inspired by a quiz I’d come across during one of my casual Facebook strolls; a “name that musical” quiz. Similarly to this quiz, my version merely included still images from 12 different classic musicals on one PowerPoint slide for everybody to examine and cry “argh, I know that one!” as they tried to jog their memories or inadvertently confuse Les Misérables with The Greatest Showman. A simple Google search will generate plentiful musical names and images to inspire this round. Or, if you want to make it a little more interactive, you could include or play clips from classic musical numbers and ask your participants to name the iconic musical, song and even artist for some extra points, too.

2.    Celebrity couples

One of the most fun rounds I’ve created for a virtual pub quiz is a “celebrity couples” round whereby I listed 10 celebrity couples, past and present, but eliminated the vowels from their names. For instance, for Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, it appeared “brdptt & nglnjl”; for Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman “tmcrs & nclkdmn”; and Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas “sphtrnr & jjns”. This can be really fun for your participants as they may be able to identify one name but struggle to remember the other half of the couple. It’s especially funny if you hear them muttering them to themselves, too, but that can actually help! (Say “brdptt” and “tmcrs” aloud and they ~ almost ~ sound like Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise, right?)

3.    The noughties

This idea for a round is a particularly fun one for both millennials and previous generations alike. It emits a sense of nostalgia for you as you gather the questions and your family and friends as they take themselves back to a time where the likes of Britney Spears, Kylie Minogue and Destiny’s Child were plastered all over MTV and playing on every radio station repeatedly. With questions like “Which Outkast song contains the lyrics Never meant to make your daughter cry // I apologize a trillion times?”, “Which female singer partnered with Nelly to release Dilemma in 2002?” and “In which year did Kylie Minogue release the single Can’t Get You Out of My Head?”, you’ll be sure to witness your participants scratching their heads.

4.    Warner Bros.

I won’t lie, I was quite proud of myself when I thought of this for a round. Rather than your typical Disney round which – don’t @ me – I’m not too much of a fan of myself (don’t get me wrong, many Disney films I love, but anything Disney Princess I’ve never particularly enjoyed), I thought: “why not Warner Bros. instead?”. Similarly to the “noughties” round, Warner Bros. can make you feel very nostalgic; questions like “Which 1996 hit single featured on the Space Jam soundtrack?” will remind you of easier days. Plus, it provided an opportunity for me to ask a Friends-related question which everybody was expecting from me in my first quiz: “What is the title of the famous Friends episode where Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey?” (if you know, you know).

Gif description: Monica from Friends saying “That’s not even a word!”

5.    “Finish the lyric”

Instead of the all too familiar “listen to this and name the song and artist”, you can switch up a music round by asking your participants to “finish the lyric”. This idea for a round when I was creating my second virtual pub quiz was inspired by a video that went viral of a lady being asked to “finish the lyric” by the videographer who sang a lyric from Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper’s Shallow. I provided 10 lyrics from 10 different songs in a list format, again on a PowerPoint slide, and asked them to simply provide the following lyric as an answer. You can make it even harder by merely reading the lyrics as opposed to singing them; your participants might recognise the lyric but forget the tune, making it more difficult for them to do as the round asks.

6.    Social media

In a world where virtual pub quizzes over Zoom have become the norm for occupying time as “non-essential” workers are imperatively staying at home during the coronavirus pandemic, it’s highly likely that your participants will be familiar with some facts on social media. To some, social media still sounds like a relatively new concept, but questions such as “In which year was Facebook launched?” and “Which early social network was bought by ITV in 2005 for £120m?” will soon make them realise that social media has been around for a lot longer than they might think. And, for those of us who have been using Facebook, Twitter and Instagram and the like since or soon after they launched, they will be a breeze.

7.    Catchphrase

During a Zoom catchup and virtual pub quiz with my linguigals (my group of friends who I talk about in this blog which, coincidentally, unfolds my pandemic experience), one of my linguigals was hosting and included a Catchphrase-like round (‘like’ referring to the Catchphrase TV show). It was quite different from your usual quiz round as, much like the TV show, we were shown a series of images which referenced common catchphrases, and the first to “buzz in” and shout it out earned the point. In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I stole the idea for my next virtual pub quiz (thanks, G!). You could even, like my fiancé and I have also participated in, create a game show-themed quiz, including the likes of Who Wants to be a Millionaire, The Price is Right and Family Fortunes as rounds.

8.    Logos

Does anybody else remember when an app called The Logo Quiz was all anybody could ever talk about circa 2010? Yes? No? If so, this one’s a bit like that. If not, this idea for a round essentially requires you to display images of an array of brands but excluding obvious details such as their name or an iconic symbol (you can find loads of photoshopped logo images on Google). Or, rather than asking your participants to merely identify the brands, you could also do a “this or that” and display two images of the same brand beside one another but, again, with minor details changed like the orientation of a symbol or the order of the colours (which is what I did). Since it’s been a good decade there or thereabouts since The Logo Quiz was prevalent, this one was fun for me to do.

9.    Album covers

Another friend of mine in their virtual pub quiz created a round which included a number of photoshopped images of famous album covers; similarly to the logos as explained above, obvious elements like the album or artist’s name were edited out. Admittedly, on her version, I didn’t recognise any of the album covers until they were revealed (~ obviously ~), making me question my music knowledge which is usually pretty good – or so I thought. Again, these images can quite easily be found on Google for you to include in your next virtual pub quiz. This idea for a round is a fun way to test your participants’ music knowledge (or lack of) and perhaps even decipher the kind of music they’re into, too.

10.   TV show sets

Another good idea for a virtual pub quiz round is to show your participants an abundance of images of the sets of popular – or, if you want to spice it up, more obscure – TV shows. With the likes of Netflix also having conquered many households across the globe over the last few years with their variety of television series, dramas and movies, this will – similarly to the album covers round – unveil how much (or how little) TV your participants watch. This round is again quite unusual; instead of the “identify the theme song” or “who said this quote in which television series?”, you can utilise the screen-sharing function on Zoom to display such images and get your participants thinking.

Finally, it’s worth mentioning that you can’t go wrong with a “general knowledge” round (I usually leave this round till last). These rounds are always a success for both you and your participants as you can ask any burning questions that didn’t fit elsewhere in your quiz and it’s a fun way to test your family and friends’, well, general knowledge. If you’re unsure on what kind of questions to ask, there are millions – and that’s probably not an exaggeration – just waiting to be searched on Google.

As per, I hope you found my tips useful and, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask below or by contacting me via social media or email (you can find my contact details here).

Stay safe, stay home and enjoy your next virtual pub quiz!

Love,

Little Pav ♡