Chantal DeHaine

The Lava Lamp Bath Bomb What a perfect name for this bath bomb, it does exactly what it says on the tin. It is literally a lava lamp in bath bomb form, so if you're a fan of the Lava lamp trend, then this could be for you! In its dry state the ballistic is such a bold orange, you cant help but smile, and the purple spots only accentuate this bright colouring. The colour is instantaneously transferred to the water as soon as it makes contact, which is always exciting to see! The pictures honestly don't do the bath bomb justice. at. all. It wasn't yellow at all in real life! The orange part of the bath bomb fizzed out much more quickly than the purple which left them floating and melting by themselves. The purple melted down and sat atop the water much like an oil would..  This preceded the Lava Lamp intentions of the Bath Ballistic, which was the most impressive part of the entire bath bomb (not including the initial colour burst). ...

How is it that when someone really feels like writing, they cant think of anything to write but this? A crazy kind of writers block I guess.. So, quick update; exams are finished, the job hunt has started, still haven’t used Pythagoras’ theorem, we’ve just left the EU and the sun is bi-polar. Also I’m hungry.. The latter very vital information for you I’m sure XD Anyway I hope you’re well, Stay Excellent Chantal DeHaine

Recently, I've had a lot of deadlines. Some I was dreading and some (well, one) I was really looking forward to, and it got me thinking.. The funny thing about deadlines is that they actually only take up about a second of our time. You see,, because the work leading up to them takes up such a lot of our time, we trick ourselves into thinking that the actual deadline is a lot longer. Our 'deadlines' are only really the second it takes you to click that "submit" button on your computer or the passing of work to whoever it's for. But that deadline, that second of time can provide so much relief. Or such a great sense of failure. Depending on whether you meet it or not.. But in the long run they help us get things done - for this we couldn't ask for anything greater, even though at times we hate them! So good luck for your next deadline *fingers crossed* Stay Excellent - Chantal DeHaine

This post I doubt will be much of a list because I just don't think I could choose any favourite words... Any words that have meaning (to me) are no doubt higher up the list, but I couldn't pick a top one or even a top ten for that matter! The only thing I feel needs saying, is that I believe that the invention of words was 100% the most valuable invention ever! Nuff Said. Stay Excellent - Chantal DeHaine

Now, it would be totally wrong for me to not be bias for this list and have my name at the top.. Chantal DeHaine But other than that I can't really say. I mean, yes, I've already chosen what my first daughter is going to be called, but you can't know that yet... Classic names are always a winner, you really can't go wrong with an Elizabeth or a Nancy. And a lot of the more traditional names are coming back into fashion - Margaret, Florence and Ethel for example. Or tradition can be completely contradicted by the more Unusual names of the twenty-first century; i.e. Monroe and Juniper, or just being named after general items of weather or random objects really.. But in general - I find it's the people who make their name and not the other way round!! What's your favourite Girls Name? Stay Excellent - Chantal DeHaine

He was a boy, She was a girl, He loved her,  She fell in love with him, They lived happily ever after. Although the pronouns may change and there are an endless variety of factors that could affect their story, ultimately it comes down to these things. And that's the beauty of love, no matter the minor things that happen along the way, three things will definitely happen in every love story till the end of time.  They meet, They fall in love, They live happily ever after. No matter how long 'ever after' seems to be. However long our love story is, whether it be five minutes; you meet, you feel the spark and forever after you're left with the memory, or whether it's eighty years and you die in each others arms. Everyone gets a love story.  Stay Excellent - Chantal DeHaine

Where the knock was coming from I couldn’t decipher. But it was there; always. As soon as I got into bed and turned off the lights, it was there. It was a knock on the outside of the room, the sound slightly muffled; audible but never quite as crisp as when you make the sound yourself. Some nights it would be polite and quiet.  A faint knock, but constant and on those nights my brain would eventually be able to minimise it to white noise and let me fall asleep. However, recently it’s been getting ever more anxious and the tempo of the knocks have been steadily increasing. But tonight; I’ve just shut my eyes. And not a moment after, there was a hammering of knocks. Not the patient knocks but a desperate frenzy of knocks that demanded attention. So I opened my eyes and got out of bed. Unconsciously training my ears to the sound. I stepped towards my wardrobe and couldn’t be mistaken; it was the source--- – The door flew open and a manic girl was throwing her arms aroun...

“Oh my god, I cannot believe you just did that” she screeched back at me with an annoyed tone in her voice. Whilst swinging the satchel over her shoulders and neck so that the strap rested across her chest, she continued “Seriously Bea, what the hell!”  Whoops. “You know I can’t help it” I shouted back with heavy breaths; still running as fast as I could. We turned a sharp corner into a disused bypass tunnel and came to a halt when we were encompassed by the dark. I pulled my long sleeve down over my hand and wiped the sweat off the back of my neck and forehead, thankfully it was dark so no one could see how un-lady like I was being. “I’m sorry Your Highness, you need to start. I know you have diplomatic immunity and all that, but when you want to go out in the real world and no one knows who you are, you can’t just do want you want and get away with it, it’s not that simple out here.” She was acting like my mother, all high pitched and frantic. I’d read stories about people...

The Goth, The Pretty Girl and Me His hair plunged down in front of his eyes and made him seem all sorts of rugged, with a sculpted jaw and a whole load of stubble he looked like the front member of an idyllic rock band. His air gave off a pretentious this-took-me-no-time-at-all kind of look that made her appear even more uncanny. She was stunning, a perfect kind of gorgeous that no one could deny. Her hair was always pristine and her nails were always just the right length and shape. Her clothes fit her exactly and her defined physique wasn’t a rare sight. But strangely everyone thought they were the perfect pair. Although they were stereotypically chalk and cheese and it seemed like the goth had fallen for the pretty girl. Everyone knew that she was the one who worked hard for his affections not the other way around. He was so care free that no one could convince him to do anything. All he was concerned with was making sure no one ever saw inside his notebook, even th...

Another of my poems, inspired by the great Christina Rossetti; “We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?” - Goblin Market and other poems Enjoy and beware of the Goblin Men.. Stay Excellent - Chantal DeHaine