I’m Rosy Parrish, a 24 year old trying to be a grown up in Brighton. Previously, I was hiding from my problems in Madrid, but there’s only so long you can teach English until the word verb makes you cry. Nowadays I get to call myself a writer, but by night I just like to scream into the void. Rarely Rosy is both a pun on my name and also how I’m a giant pessimist. If you like fantasy novels, cruelty free lipstick, and cats – then you’ve found the blog for you. If not, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing for you here.