Breakfast is a very serious business in the Black family. My dad is the King of scrambled eggs, cooking them low and slow is the key, with plenty of butter in the pan. Get that MILK away from those scrambled eggs for god's sake, now is not the time to play around. A good breakfast is never a rushed breakfast. It should feel slow, virtually like you have all day to devote to this one meal, nay, ritual, NAY religion. Okay too far.

I’ve never really been a love you outloud kind of person. As in someone who is comfortable saying, “love you” in a sincere way to someone else who has normally said it first in a living, breathing conversation. A boy who I’d had a love/hat relationship with at school visited me at uni once, very sweetly kissed me on the cheek and told me that he’d always love me at the tail end of a night out. Standing by a roundabout, the lights causing him to go in and out of focus, I just replied “we should be pen pals and keep in touch”!! This was at the tender age of 18 I might add. I was not in fact 12 and at summer camp, so it was really not that acceptable of a response.