Tuesday, 28 April 2015


Bonjour lecteur. (I actually had to google what reader mean't in french just to write that.). Today I thought I'd update you on some things. So without further ado here I go.

*As you can see, my blog design has changed. Again. And it's pretty much done a part from the new header I will be adding in the beginning of May ( it's up there now). It'll look a little like this.
 *As well as that, I will also be changing my blog name for the zillianth ( yes it's a word) time. I'm planning on calling it Star Girl Productions. You're probably thinking that I'm a really indecisive person and you would be right. But I hope you don't mind.

*The pages at the top of  my blog now finally show the posts in that category.  So go check those out if you want. I recommend Humor.

*My web novel will be moved over to Wattpad, which you can find by clicking the Wattpad link in the left side bar ( which is the only side bar, Stella). There's also a link to my twitter and whilst your at it check out my tumblr. I almost never post but I have it so yeah. It took me ages to find out how to add social media buttons but I  have and I'm actually really proud.

*I'll be attempting to post twice a week and hopefully including pictures in more of my posts but I'm not going to say that's certain just yet.

*I took a bit of a break from Project H. By a bit of a break I mean almost two months but I really want to get back into writing those posts. They can be found in the tabs section as well.

*And I also wanted to thank you guys so much for reading my blog, it's so strange to think I've been blogging for 6 months. It feels like time has just flown by.

But totally non blog related - I'll be going into year 9 in a couple of weeks and I'm really excited. Peace out year 8, you won't be missed.

I think that's it for now.

I'm out.

Friday, 24 April 2015

The H.U.G


Otherwise known as the rules of human contact.(As told by Star Girl.)

For me, a  person who lack total confidence in the idea of ever having a non awkward encounter, it feels necessary to establish some ground rules. And that's when The H.U.G comes in. 5 totally basic things you must not do when you meet someone. The H.U.G can also refer to a person who does not abide by these rules,thus becoming the embodiment of the acronym themselves.

The rules of The H.U.G are as follows. I've even added color to the rules to make them pretty.

-No close contact
Establish a comfortable distance. 20-40 cm is ok. 15 is pushing it. 5 and you're actually insane, unless that person is a wax figure and is unable to feel discomfort.

-No awkward stares
This includes, but is not limited to:
  •  Prolonged stares
  • Creepy stares
  • Death glares
  • A really sinister mix of all three, leaving the victim both traumatized and seriously confused.
-No unnecessary hugging
Hugging should not be distributed to Squirrels, Mongooses, Giraffes, Spiders or Tigers. This also applies to cacti, lettuce, weaves, braids, CD players, fish, potato chips, or hand lotion. Chocolate on the other hand, can be hugged.
Unless deemed necessary by said Hugee (that's a scientific term we awkward individuals use to describe a person receiving a hug) or clarified with both beings that the hug should in fact be carried out, the hug is not needed.

-No physical contact
Don't touch me! If put your hands on my shoulder, it's not guaranteed you'll walk away with both of them. Stuff can go from zero to a hundred real quick. 

-No touching of my personal belongings without my permission
This isn't human contact but I felt like I should mention it. Don't Touch My Stuff! I don't go around manhandling your unicorn mane so leave mine alone.

It's rudimentary really.

Other variations of the H.U.G consist of :

And my favorite-

But if the rules just weren't simple enough...well my friend,there really is no hope for you. There's only so much I can do. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this and I'd love it if you wanted to comment below telling me what you think. Now go forth human, spread the word.

Star Girl out.

Monday, 20 April 2015

Future Prospects

Does this picture have any relevance to the post?
 No it does not.

What do I want to be in the future?

Well I could tell you how I've always wanted to be a psychologist, or a writer, or even at one point a rainbow unicorn princess but the one thing I really want is to be happy.
I want to be happy. I want to wake up in the morning and smile. I want to do random things spontaneously. I want to be that person you come to, to laugh or confide in. I want to be happy. Not to say I'm not already happy but I want to know that 30 year old Stella isn't sitting in some humdrum building doing something she's never really had an interest in.

You see the truth is, I'll never fully know right now what career I want to pursue. I'm 13, I barely know what my favorite colour is? And I really don't know what job I want to have in the future. That's okay, I think. I know which subjects I like and I know the things I enjoy, but I'm never going to have the vaguest idea of what I want to be.

But sometimes I feel like I have to choose. Making a decision on your career prospects makes it seem like you've somehow got everything planned. Like you've got yourself figured out. And so I've been saying I want to become a psychologist the last couple of months. Truthfully, I have no idea. But I do know I like maths, and I do know I like sociology and I know I want to be happy.

Some things you don't need to know just yet. Some things you can't plan out. So for now...well for now I'll just do my best. Who knows, maybe I'll become the next best rap artist? I'll call myself UGGS. ( Unicorn Gangsta Girl Swag)

And before I end the post I want to introduce you to Kate. On May the 17th she will be hosting a Q&A to kick off her writing chain. And because I'm going to be watching, I thought i'd tell you guys about it so you can watch it too.
Here are the details.
Property of Kate

Will you be taking part in the Q&A? Tell me in the comments, or use your skills of telepathy to send me your message.
Thanks for reading.
Star Girl out.( I don't know if I should keep this.)

Friday, 17 April 2015

The Girl I owe An Apology To

 I have some things to day,so here I go.

Today I introduce you to Viviane- The girl I owe an apology to. If you haven't heard of Viviane, she blogs over at Barely Adult which is an awesome blog. She's even done a guest post on my blog. It's the one about selfies, if you were wondering and wanted to check out her post. 

 And I owe Viviane an apology. If you haven't noticed, recently I've been trying out a more humorous approach to my posts. I've also been kind of blind. You see, Viviane does these amazingly funny posts on her blog and it's what makes her so epic. But I think I've been making my posts too similar to hers without even realizing it. So in this post I'm going to point out some of those. 

1) How to get a guy- A recent post of mine similar to her post How To Attract Guys.
I promise this was an unintentional thing.
I'm sorry Viviane.

2) A Letter To Beyonce similar to her post Why Ellen DeGeneres should adopt me.
So reading her post back now I realize how similar they sound and I am so sorry. I did not realize this at the time of writing them.

And the references to chicken were just a coincidence, I can't explain that. My friends and I talk about that all the time, I think chicken just might be highly popular in today's society.

So Viviane, my deepest, most awkward apologies.
I shall now offer you this image-

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

How To Get A Guy

Are you mildly obsessed with the prospect of getting a boyfriend?
Do you swoon unnecessarily over the male kind?
Well today you'll learn how to bag such a specimen.

Here is- How To Get A Guy ( The Slightly Aggressive Way)

There are ten steps to get a guy.  

1) You must wear a cape. Why? I don't know, just wear one okay, just do it. Capes are awesome. Never question this. 

2) Woo him with your ability to randomly recall song lyrics at any given moment. Approach said guy and kindly yet aggressively pull him aside and begin singing. loves a good song right?

3) Caress his face, at the same time applying a generous amount of lotion and begin whispering things like: "I love cats", or "I used to have a violent turtle living in my back garden", in his ear in an attempt of seduction.

4) Now proceed to show him your feathers. Like a highly insane and boastful peacock, bear all feathers before his eyes. Confidently. Fiercely. So Vogue. ( This may be a slight issue if you haven't honed your peacock skills, but you can work on it.)

5) You should now continue to pin said guy down to the ground and aggressively scream at him how much you love him. Because you really don't want to seem to obsessed at this stage. It's best to keep things subtle.

6) At this stage, whilst subject is pinned to the floor, you should now ruffle his hair and casually pull out your scissors in order to cut a sample of his hair. This is only a precautionary measure in case he needs to be cloned.

7) From here, you tie him up in an array of beautifully colored yarn and force him to eat cookies.

8) Now you drag him away and you nurse him like a bird with a broken wing. Even if there's nothing wrong with him. ( But there might be if you've carried out any of the first few steps.)

9) It's time to now unravel your subject. Very slowly and carefully, making sure to lock every door and window.

10) He shall now fall in love with you. This will take place after countless sessions spent receiving hypnosis. Which you will learn yourself with the help of shifty looking YouTube videos that claim they're guaranteed to hypnotize.

You have now acquired your bae.

And if that doesn't work. (Which I don't see how it can't.) You will have to Move to Mexico. Change your name to Carlos Lehandro Defresco James Abraham Luther Fisher the 2nd of Monte Carlo. Grow a beard. Find a lady called Leasha and tell her Jermoe sent you. She will then give you a black box in which contains a  boat pass and a fake ID that will lead you to a remote island. Take the boat across the great pink sea and start your new life at Mont Rachos with the friendly squirrel that now lives in your bag. 

Okay, so maybe you might not want to follow these steps. I think the  best way to get a guy is to be yourself. And just do you boo. 

Disclaimer -  You are strongly advised not to follow these tips apart from the very last one. These tips
come from someone with no experience getting anything other than a box of cookies from her cabinet. No guys were harmed in this process.

Friday, 10 April 2015

Diagnosis Awkward :The Gym Incident

Here stands a rare specimen, the Stelaosaurus.
Nothing good ever happens in gymnastics.

It was the Monday of a depressing January month. Every Monday meant a P.E lesson and today's serving consisted of 60 endless minutes of gymnastics. With a clip board in hand, our teacher led us to our death I mean sport's hall. Like toddlers we sat, faces focused on the teacher and the rather attractive masculine assistant stood next to her.  It was the day of vaulting. You know, that thing where you have to jump over these tall structures like your some sort of half human half horse. 

Three lanes stood before my eyes. The first one, a tricky leap clearly needed to clear the vault. The second, a simple jump. Then the third, you know what let's not even go there. 

I attempt the second lane, charging aggressive at the vault, leaping high of the ground and landing successfully upon the structure. I stare at the third lane and then look right back. Oh hell no. And then I look to the first lane and decide to jump the vault.

I clear it successfully the first time. And again the second but then it all just went down hill. Soon, walked over the clip board bearing teacher with the instructions that we must now clear the vault with a straddle jump. Uhh No.
So I attempt my great escape, speed walking my way out of the third lane, awkwardly positioning myself halfway between the first lane and second lane.  Somehow, in some twisted turn of events I ended up in the third lane once again. Now with the encouraging words of my dear friends ( love ya'll) I was persuaded to jump the vault. 

I charged, screaming like a true warrior and jumped, spreading my arms and legs mid leap. I unfortunately was not successful and landed with a thud upon the vault. I was in fact meant to jump over the vault without any contact other than my hands. There I sat, my legs entangled in the metal structure as I attempted to shuffle my way down. A tiny note- fabric against fabric causes friction, and friction isn't the best when you're trying to make a fast getaway.  I was mortified.  But I'm fine now, it's not like I'm forever traumatized or anything. * She shivers*

That dear reader, was the story of the Gym Incident.

And if you want to check out more of my random pieces of writing, I strongly urge you to pop over my twitter. This by no means was an attempt at self promotion pffft.

Monday, 6 April 2015

The anti-shopaholic

This morning I went shopping. I'm not yet recovered.

There's something that needs to be established. I absolutely hate shopping. (Screw you retailers and items of relatively moderate prices.) For the longest time ever I've hated shopping, much to the dismay of my family who find comfort in buying random stuff and items of non weather appropriate clothing. Shopping just isn't my thing and I'm certain it will never be.

Today, I was dragged against my will to New Look. Despite my kicking, screaming and my failed attempts at persuading my mum that I'd come down with a seriously contagious disease affecting my ability to be around humans and look at clothes, I was still made to go. So I went ( after many tries at tuck and rolling out the moving vehicle) and prepared my self for what was to happen.

I walked among mere muggles, my personal space clearly invaded as I weaved myself through a network of speeding bodies. As I reached the store, I felt my feet urging me to turn away and run, but doing so would make me look like a complete psycho and I'm not about that life. So I mustered up the pitiful  morsels of courage left in me and entered the store, purposely shielding my eyes form the looks of budding fashion gurus and certain future clothing designers.

And through the jungle of moderately priced clothes, I ventured, praying my trek to be short lived. I spent at least an hour in there. But it felt like an infinity as I squashed myself through narrow isles to an undetermined fate. Umpteen faces passed by as I skimmed the racks for clothes. I was speedy and quick wanting to purchase my stupid items of clothing and leave. But my brother was not, taking his time, cautiously picking out pieces of clothes like leaves of weightless gold. Then he'd hold them up too me,I would pull them form his grasp and direct him to another part of the retail jungle.


 It was hella awkward. After spending almost 6 days in hibernation from the outer world, I was terrified to finally walk upon the golden paths of shopaholics. I would much rather have donned a bin bag then enter these stores, but apparently that isn't socially acceptable. Once again screw you retailers, and the same to all those Instagram fashionistas ( is this even a word?). Providing us style lacking people with a false sense of hope that maybe we too one day will look as cool wearing flannels, tight white t shirts and high heeled shoes. Dyeing our hair extravagant shades of pinks and purples and neon greens and blues.

But I survived this high street hunger games, only leaving with minor emotional damage and sore legs. The odds were in my favor, but one thing's for sure. I'm still an anti-shopaholic.

Thursday, 2 April 2015

A letter to Beyonce

Hi too casual. Sup too colloquial. Dear Beyonce... too formal. What's gwanin BB? That's perfect.

What's gwanin BB?
 It's me Stella. I'm 13 ( how many is that in hamster years?) and a huge fan of yours. I'm writing this letter to talk about a really serious issue that I need your help with. How do I phrase this? WILL YOU ADOPT ME BEYONCE?

My parents are totally fine with it ( of course they don't know yet but they'll be fine), my imaginary friend Bertumboe ( pronounced Ber-tum-bow) is completely ok with it as well. Oh and my real friends seem to be ok with it too, but no one cares about their opinion.

Just think about it BB. Can I call you BB or do you prefer another name? Like Queen or Boss or Awerfgjrfd? You know just in case your into names that no body can pronounce. I have so much to offer, I'm qualified for your adoption I swear.

I can dance (not well and I don't even think it's qualified as dancing). But I can flail my arms and legs to a beat.

I can sing, I can't. But I listen to music.

I'm great at maths, I think. I could be your accountant, supposing I'll be paid a fair amount that is.

I can pass off as a toddler, or a smurf. which ever one. I'm really short but I don't know how that would benefit you.

I can write hit songs, my last one being aghhhhhhh, the lyrics consisting of the word aghhhhhhhhhh. All the cat's loved it, the beat went straight through their noise cancelling headphones.

So Beyonce, what do you say?

Yours sincerely your future daughter.

P.S. If this doesn't work out, can you somehow get me in contact with Obama or Winnie the Pooh?

 If you've successfully made it to the end of the letter, hi and I swear I'm not insane. I hope you found this somewhat amusing. Thank you for reading human, peace out or whateva.

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

March Favorites

This song

I watched beastly the other day and this was on the soundtrack.

This song
I'm loving this remix way too much.

This image
First rule of squirrel club- You must never speak of squirrel club.  

This thang

This quote
Laughing uncontrollably and making jokes with friends.

Coming up with random excuses to break out some moves.

Notebooks, for when I get unexpected ideas.

Attempts at American accents.

Pulling over dramatic faces.

Writing lists.

Dylan O'Brien.

I really wanted to push myself to read more this month but I just didn't find any books that I fell in love with. Do you have any book recommendations?