You know, if I had a penny for every time I've heard the phrase "Enjoy yourself; these are the best years of your life," in the past few weeks, my bank account would be much less upset with me. People seem to think it's an encouraging, thought-provoking thing to say, but I certainly don't think so. What do you mean, that it's downhill from here? That once University is over, the shit hits the fan? That I'll never achieve anything in my life more than a degree? That when (if *gulp*) I'm seventy, looking around at a room full of children and grandchildren, I'll be thinking, "Well, it's not Uni, is it?"
I know that these people are just trying to make me appreciate the fact that, for the first and potentially last time in my life, I'm completely independent with virtually no responsibilities to other people; free to go where I want, do what I like, get up when I feel like it and spend my time enjoying myself. But is that all there is to life? I don't think so.
Because, as much as I'm enjoying myself here - it seriously is fantastic to have complete freedom and control of myself and my own life for the first time - I don't want my 18th-21st years to be the peak of my life. There are SO MANY things I want to do!
I want to spend a semester studying abroad, I want to spend a year travelling all the places I've loved on holiday, I want to get a novel published, I want to write a film script, I want to get married, I want to have kids (er, eventually), I want to get a job I love, I want to actually get through a Charles Dickens novel, I want to see Bon Jovi in concert, I want to meet people I admire. I know that life throws your curveballs and that all of those things either won't happen or won't happen in the way I imagined them, but that's what I want.
You can't predict your future, but you can hope for the best from it. I don't want my future to be limited to the next three years, and I know it won't be - I've got too much to do. Young people are supposed to dream about their future with rose-coloured glasses, and we should be allowed to do so - you never know what the future holds.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Saturday, 1 October 2011
I Got Freshered
I just invented a new word.
Freshered (verb): to be exhausted, embarrassed, frustrated and (again) exhausted by the activities of the first week of University. But to still have had a good time.
I got totally and utterly freshered. I have spent the daytime of the past week sleeping, groaning, drinking tea and making caveman-esque conversation with my new freinds. I have spent the nighttime drinking, doing silly things and making even more new friends. I am exhausted down to my very bones. The muscles of my legs will never be the same again (I would cheerfully bet my entire student loan that I have done more walking in the past week than the rest of the summer combined). I have had to face up to some humiliating confessions. I have spent too much money. I cannot remember what vegetables look like. I have finally broken my phone beyond repair.
But it was so worth it.
I'm not going to lie, I don't think I could do it again - at least, not until my liver, feet and hamstrings have recovered (which could be decades). But it has been one of the most exhilerating and exciting weeks of my life.
I got freshered, and I loved it.
Freshered (verb): to be exhausted, embarrassed, frustrated and (again) exhausted by the activities of the first week of University. But to still have had a good time.
I got totally and utterly freshered. I have spent the daytime of the past week sleeping, groaning, drinking tea and making caveman-esque conversation with my new freinds. I have spent the nighttime drinking, doing silly things and making even more new friends. I am exhausted down to my very bones. The muscles of my legs will never be the same again (I would cheerfully bet my entire student loan that I have done more walking in the past week than the rest of the summer combined). I have had to face up to some humiliating confessions. I have spent too much money. I cannot remember what vegetables look like. I have finally broken my phone beyond repair.
But it was so worth it.
I'm not going to lie, I don't think I could do it again - at least, not until my liver, feet and hamstrings have recovered (which could be decades). But it has been one of the most exhilerating and exciting weeks of my life.
I got freshered, and I loved it.
Sunday, 25 September 2011
University Day #1
I am exhausted.
This is because I spent Wednesday to Friday buying, packing, realising it didn't fit, unpacking, repacking, realising I'd forgotten something, buying, packing, realising it didn't fit, unpacking, repacking....etc. So that was fun. Then, yesterday morning, I was woken up at 7.30am to help pack the car and set off towards the next three years of my life.
For most of the 2 1/2 hour journey, I actually felt pretty calm. Excited, a bit nervous, but basically calm. Once we hit the city centre I started to get Mega Butterflies, and by the time I actually got out of the car I was more or less brickin' it. My parents hovered in the background whilst I got my accommodation keys, picked up my University SmartCard, my Freshers' Wristband and various other bits of admin -- we unloaded the car, and they hovered some more, clearly not knowing whether I wanted them to help or leave.
To be honest I didn't fancy the idea of a long, drawn-out goodbye, so I more or less gave them both quick hugs and kicked them out the door. Then I busied myself with unpacking, lest the panic should set in. There was a point, somewhere between hanging my clothes up and locating my posters, where I felt it starting to rise through my chest. Scared it wouldn't go away, I bullied a couple of my new flatmates out of their rooms and fed them tea and hyper-speed, nervous conversation.
We ended up going to another flat for drinking games and giggles, and then to the Students Union for another drink and a dance, then myself and my favourite flatmate, Lizzi, got home about 1.30am and had a cuppa and a nice conversation. So, despite having had only a few hours sleep and feeling a bit tender (though still planning to go out the next four nights in a row), I think I would call my first day at Uni something of a success :)
UPDATE: I actually wrote this last week, but only today has my laptop allowed me to publish it. Go figure.
This is because I spent Wednesday to Friday buying, packing, realising it didn't fit, unpacking, repacking, realising I'd forgotten something, buying, packing, realising it didn't fit, unpacking, repacking....etc. So that was fun. Then, yesterday morning, I was woken up at 7.30am to help pack the car and set off towards the next three years of my life.
For most of the 2 1/2 hour journey, I actually felt pretty calm. Excited, a bit nervous, but basically calm. Once we hit the city centre I started to get Mega Butterflies, and by the time I actually got out of the car I was more or less brickin' it. My parents hovered in the background whilst I got my accommodation keys, picked up my University SmartCard, my Freshers' Wristband and various other bits of admin -- we unloaded the car, and they hovered some more, clearly not knowing whether I wanted them to help or leave.
To be honest I didn't fancy the idea of a long, drawn-out goodbye, so I more or less gave them both quick hugs and kicked them out the door. Then I busied myself with unpacking, lest the panic should set in. There was a point, somewhere between hanging my clothes up and locating my posters, where I felt it starting to rise through my chest. Scared it wouldn't go away, I bullied a couple of my new flatmates out of their rooms and fed them tea and hyper-speed, nervous conversation.
We ended up going to another flat for drinking games and giggles, and then to the Students Union for another drink and a dance, then myself and my favourite flatmate, Lizzi, got home about 1.30am and had a cuppa and a nice conversation. So, despite having had only a few hours sleep and feeling a bit tender (though still planning to go out the next four nights in a row), I think I would call my first day at Uni something of a success :)
UPDATE: I actually wrote this last week, but only today has my laptop allowed me to publish it. Go figure.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Cabin Fever
A few years ago I used to be the kind of person that would happily sit in the house for days on end, playing on the Sims 2, watching TV, reading mindless books and not communicating with the outside world. I was a cool kid. And I can remembered being bothered that it didn't bother me - I was perfectly content with this, though there was a little voice in my head that frequently told me I was a lazy-assed sad-act with no friends and bad eyesight.
Thesedays, however, I seem to have lost my ability to be a lazy-assed sad-act with no friends and bad eyesight. Nowadays, one day at home is fine, two is frustrating and three drives me absolutely crazy. I don't know why this change occurred and have to say that it would have been much easier (albeit less healthy and more embarrassing) if I'd just maintained my happy-to-be-lazy attitude. Now, if I don't get out of the house for a couple of days it puts me in an irrationally bad mood, meaning I argue with my family (possibly a subconscious attempt to make them KICK me out of the house...) and storm off to my bedroom, the sight of which - by this point - usually makes me feel slightly ill.
The irritation is that laziness inspires laziness - because I've been doing nothing, the thought of any (gasp) actual physical exercise becomes less and less appealing. Not that it was ever THAT appealing... So I could see my friends, but I can't be bothered to get to their houses, I could do some increasingly necessary jobs but I'm too 'tired', I could just get go for a walk or something, but I don't see the point. I'm frustrating myself intensely.
Now please excuse me whilst I force myself to venture into the outside world.
Thesedays, however, I seem to have lost my ability to be a lazy-assed sad-act with no friends and bad eyesight. Nowadays, one day at home is fine, two is frustrating and three drives me absolutely crazy. I don't know why this change occurred and have to say that it would have been much easier (albeit less healthy and more embarrassing) if I'd just maintained my happy-to-be-lazy attitude. Now, if I don't get out of the house for a couple of days it puts me in an irrationally bad mood, meaning I argue with my family (possibly a subconscious attempt to make them KICK me out of the house...) and storm off to my bedroom, the sight of which - by this point - usually makes me feel slightly ill.
The irritation is that laziness inspires laziness - because I've been doing nothing, the thought of any (gasp) actual physical exercise becomes less and less appealing. Not that it was ever THAT appealing... So I could see my friends, but I can't be bothered to get to their houses, I could do some increasingly necessary jobs but I'm too 'tired', I could just get go for a walk or something, but I don't see the point. I'm frustrating myself intensely.
Now please excuse me whilst I force myself to venture into the outside world.
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
A New Relationship
So, because I'm going to University in a couple of weeks, I needed to buy a laptop, which I was not looking forward to. I know some people get all excited about new gadgetry, but for me, it just means several weeks of shouting at screens mocking me with their not-workingness. It's not that I don't like change, it's just that I only like it when I'm ready for it. My current computer rarely irritates me, it has the past four years accumulation of photos, music, Favourite websites, programmes and games on it. I know it back to front, I know where to find everything and I know that turning it off and on again will almost always fix whatever issue it's having. For this reason, my new laptop was sat in it's box gathering dust for a good fortnight before I had a tantrum with my computer (it wouldn't let me iPlayer Doctor Who. Some things are just out of order), stomped downstairs and cracked it open.
So far (about an hour later), our relationship has been touch and go. It let me watch Doctor Who with no problem, the internet works pretty fast and the keyboard and I are getting on like a house on fire (very important for someone who spends as much time writing nonsense as I do). However, the favourites drop-down is empty and on the other side of the screen (an annoyance), there are currently none of my iTunes or files on here (a problem) and my beloved Google has been replaced by Bing (a true tragedy).
But we're working things out, and I think at some point I might even find myself able to commit to this laptop. My computer will always be my first love, and have a special place in my heart, but the laptop is younger, faster, prettier and can be used whilst in bed (mind out of the gutter, please). And even though it keeps making strange beeping noises I don't understand, I think - one day - it might just be love.
So far (about an hour later), our relationship has been touch and go. It let me watch Doctor Who with no problem, the internet works pretty fast and the keyboard and I are getting on like a house on fire (very important for someone who spends as much time writing nonsense as I do). However, the favourites drop-down is empty and on the other side of the screen (an annoyance), there are currently none of my iTunes or files on here (a problem) and my beloved Google has been replaced by Bing (a true tragedy).
But we're working things out, and I think at some point I might even find myself able to commit to this laptop. My computer will always be my first love, and have a special place in my heart, but the laptop is younger, faster, prettier and can be used whilst in bed (mind out of the gutter, please). And even though it keeps making strange beeping noises I don't understand, I think - one day - it might just be love.
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
August 2011 In Films, Books and Music
August has not been a busy month. I have absolutely no excuse for the (lack of) quality or the (lack of) quantity. I'm just lazy.
Films
I spent most of this month watching The Lord of the Rings series, which I'm preparing a mammoth post for my film blog on, so this was what I fit around it...
ER series 1 - ER was no stranger to me when my Dad bought the box-set of seasons 1 and 2 – I had seen much of the final few seasons, but nothing of the earlier episodes. Being initially set in 1994, ER is almost as old as I am, and I have to say I LOVED it. From the very first episode, ER series 1 is reliably touching, funny, entertaining, exciting and simply an excellent, excellent programme.
The Rise of the Planet of the Apes - I’ve never seen the original Planet of the Apes, but I have seen the Tim Burton remake, and always thought it was pretty good. This, however, I think was better, with the amazing CGI effects actually showing more of Andy Serkis’s performance than you could really see through Helena Bonham Carter’s mask. A good story, with excellent control of your stomach muscles – don’t think I de-tensed until about two hours after leaving the cinema.
Australia - I know this film is mushy, but I just don’t care. Nicole Kidman is the best I’ve ever seen her as a sort of 1940s Bridget Jones, Hugh Jackman is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen him as a rugged cowboy-type and the little boy who plays Nulla is one of the best child actors I have ever seen. The story is too long, but a fantastic epic that manipulates your emotions with perfect precision – Baz Luhrman’s finest hour.
Oranges and Sunshine – I have to say that I did enjoy this true story, of a Nottingham social worker who accidentally uncovers the story of young British children being deported to Australia from the 1940s up to 1970. However, I don’t think it quite packed the punch I was expecting and hoping from it. Some brilliant acting though – particularly from Hugo Weaving and David Wenham.
Mean Girls – It’s been years since I’ve seen this teen classic, and it has not lost anything. The peak of Lindsay Lohan’s career but only the start of Rachel McAdams, this heightened-realism story of the bitchery, backstabbery and ultimate camaraderie of high school girls is an example of what teen movies SHOULD be...
Brassed Off - I love independent films based in the North of England, so I knew I’d love this, but it did not disappoint. The story of a colliery band in Yorkshire trying to stagger on through the closing of their mine is touching, heart-wrenching, very funny and the kind of cracking good tale I always expect from these films. Especially poignant given the recent death of the incredible Pete Postlethwaite.
Music
I listened to nothing new this month. I know I'm a disappointment.
Books
The Book Thief – I tried to read this a few years ago and gave up a few chapters in, for no real reason. This time, however, I couldn’t put it down. I’m not sure why this change of heart occurred, but this time I found this book unputdownable. Low on the laughs, but I cried like a baby, and the imagery and sheer originality of Death’s narration is second to none.
One Day – I read this shortly before going to see the film, and have to say that I did find it funny, endearing and thoroughly enjoyable but not, unfortunately, up to the standards of David Nichols first novel – Starter For Ten. Strange, since One Day has garnered much more attention, but whilst enjoying it, I found both of the lead characters infuriating at times, rather than sympathising with them.
Rebecca – for several years I thought I was named after this book and now, having read it, am massively relieved to discover that is not the case. I was expecting a deep, psychological, period story about the ghosts of memory, but actually found it to be a very exciting story of secrets and lies. I found the nameless main character maddeningly wet at times, but generally enjoyed this book far more than I was expecting to.
Films
I spent most of this month watching The Lord of the Rings series, which I'm preparing a mammoth post for my film blog on, so this was what I fit around it...
ER series 1 - ER was no stranger to me when my Dad bought the box-set of seasons 1 and 2 – I had seen much of the final few seasons, but nothing of the earlier episodes. Being initially set in 1994, ER is almost as old as I am, and I have to say I LOVED it. From the very first episode, ER series 1 is reliably touching, funny, entertaining, exciting and simply an excellent, excellent programme.
The Rise of the Planet of the Apes - I’ve never seen the original Planet of the Apes, but I have seen the Tim Burton remake, and always thought it was pretty good. This, however, I think was better, with the amazing CGI effects actually showing more of Andy Serkis’s performance than you could really see through Helena Bonham Carter’s mask. A good story, with excellent control of your stomach muscles – don’t think I de-tensed until about two hours after leaving the cinema.
Australia - I know this film is mushy, but I just don’t care. Nicole Kidman is the best I’ve ever seen her as a sort of 1940s Bridget Jones, Hugh Jackman is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen him as a rugged cowboy-type and the little boy who plays Nulla is one of the best child actors I have ever seen. The story is too long, but a fantastic epic that manipulates your emotions with perfect precision – Baz Luhrman’s finest hour.
Oranges and Sunshine – I have to say that I did enjoy this true story, of a Nottingham social worker who accidentally uncovers the story of young British children being deported to Australia from the 1940s up to 1970. However, I don’t think it quite packed the punch I was expecting and hoping from it. Some brilliant acting though – particularly from Hugo Weaving and David Wenham.
Mean Girls – It’s been years since I’ve seen this teen classic, and it has not lost anything. The peak of Lindsay Lohan’s career but only the start of Rachel McAdams, this heightened-realism story of the bitchery, backstabbery and ultimate camaraderie of high school girls is an example of what teen movies SHOULD be...
Brassed Off - I love independent films based in the North of England, so I knew I’d love this, but it did not disappoint. The story of a colliery band in Yorkshire trying to stagger on through the closing of their mine is touching, heart-wrenching, very funny and the kind of cracking good tale I always expect from these films. Especially poignant given the recent death of the incredible Pete Postlethwaite.
Music
I listened to nothing new this month. I know I'm a disappointment.
Books
The Book Thief – I tried to read this a few years ago and gave up a few chapters in, for no real reason. This time, however, I couldn’t put it down. I’m not sure why this change of heart occurred, but this time I found this book unputdownable. Low on the laughs, but I cried like a baby, and the imagery and sheer originality of Death’s narration is second to none.
One Day – I read this shortly before going to see the film, and have to say that I did find it funny, endearing and thoroughly enjoyable but not, unfortunately, up to the standards of David Nichols first novel – Starter For Ten. Strange, since One Day has garnered much more attention, but whilst enjoying it, I found both of the lead characters infuriating at times, rather than sympathising with them.
Rebecca – for several years I thought I was named after this book and now, having read it, am massively relieved to discover that is not the case. I was expecting a deep, psychological, period story about the ghosts of memory, but actually found it to be a very exciting story of secrets and lies. I found the nameless main character maddeningly wet at times, but generally enjoyed this book far more than I was expecting to.
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
Organisation
On the organisation spectrum, I would say I sit somewhere healthily in the middle. I'm rarely late, occasionally put myself in charge of sorting out an event, usually get things done when necessary, but also have been known to sleep through my alarm and miss a train, forget a piece of homework exists or accidentally leave my possessions at various locations across Britain. Organisation is significant to me not because I'm particularly good or particularly bad at it, but because I LOATHE it.
Whenever I do try to organise something - be it as simple as a cinema trip or complicated as weeklong holiday - I do so with a constant expression of distaste, lots of shouting at computers, phones and people, and extreme reluctance. I just do not enjoy it one little bit because it's never simple. There's always someone important who forgot and booked a hair appointment on that day, or you can't order that thing over the internet because your bank's introduced some infuriating new security system, or you can't go on that trip because there's no way of getting home. Any sort of organisational task seems to end with me on the phone, either shouting at my friends for misunderstanding me, shouting at some poor person on a complaints line for not adequately explaining why my mobile is broken or shouting at someone at the bank for not telling me they had installed a new security system.
For this reason, the past couple of days have been hellish.
On Thursday, I got my A-Level results, which were fantastic and I was thrilled, relieved and ecstatic. I thought, "Thank God. Now that's over I don't have to worry about anything; I can just spend the rest of the summer relaxing until I head off to the University I wanted all along."
But oh, no.
What I hadn't realised is the VAST number of emails, phone calls, online registrations, buying of things and general chaos being accepted to a university brings with it. Now, I'm thrilled to be going where I'm going. Couldn't be happier. But that doesn't stop me being furious with them for creating a vast and complicated labyrinth of buttons, forms and processes that my brain doesn't seem to be able to cope with. Sod maths, why the hell aren't we students given an education in online registrations?!?!?!
And it's not as if these things can be ignored - I need to buy a wristband or I can't join in Freshers' Week, I need to accept my accommodation before the offer is recinded, meaning I need to get on the phone to student finance and find out when my loan comes through, and I need to sign up to the university website to get my university email address, which in turn will give me incomprehensible instructions to register on some other university portal I don't actually understand the purpose or point of.
Basically, I'm stressed. Technology is not and has never been my friend, which is turning out to be something of a burn in terms of going to university. And I know it will soon be sorted and I WILL be able to just relax and enjoy the rest of the summer. I just wish it could sort ITSELF out. Now. Please. Thank you.
Whenever I do try to organise something - be it as simple as a cinema trip or complicated as weeklong holiday - I do so with a constant expression of distaste, lots of shouting at computers, phones and people, and extreme reluctance. I just do not enjoy it one little bit because it's never simple. There's always someone important who forgot and booked a hair appointment on that day, or you can't order that thing over the internet because your bank's introduced some infuriating new security system, or you can't go on that trip because there's no way of getting home. Any sort of organisational task seems to end with me on the phone, either shouting at my friends for misunderstanding me, shouting at some poor person on a complaints line for not adequately explaining why my mobile is broken or shouting at someone at the bank for not telling me they had installed a new security system.
For this reason, the past couple of days have been hellish.
On Thursday, I got my A-Level results, which were fantastic and I was thrilled, relieved and ecstatic. I thought, "Thank God. Now that's over I don't have to worry about anything; I can just spend the rest of the summer relaxing until I head off to the University I wanted all along."
But oh, no.
What I hadn't realised is the VAST number of emails, phone calls, online registrations, buying of things and general chaos being accepted to a university brings with it. Now, I'm thrilled to be going where I'm going. Couldn't be happier. But that doesn't stop me being furious with them for creating a vast and complicated labyrinth of buttons, forms and processes that my brain doesn't seem to be able to cope with. Sod maths, why the hell aren't we students given an education in online registrations?!?!?!
And it's not as if these things can be ignored - I need to buy a wristband or I can't join in Freshers' Week, I need to accept my accommodation before the offer is recinded, meaning I need to get on the phone to student finance and find out when my loan comes through, and I need to sign up to the university website to get my university email address, which in turn will give me incomprehensible instructions to register on some other university portal I don't actually understand the purpose or point of.
Basically, I'm stressed. Technology is not and has never been my friend, which is turning out to be something of a burn in terms of going to university. And I know it will soon be sorted and I WILL be able to just relax and enjoy the rest of the summer. I just wish it could sort ITSELF out. Now. Please. Thank you.
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
I Predict A Riot
I was intending to write a gushy post on my film blog tonight, but having spent the past few hours watching News24 religiously, I have to say that my heart really wouldn't be in it.
I've never written about current affairs or news on my blog before, quite possibly because it's been quite some time since I've found the news quite as embarrassing, disgusting and personal as this. The riots that have been ripping through Britain in the past few days have truly shocked me, and have actually succeeded in battering through my usual 'oh well, it's not happening to me', selfish attitude to affect me. I'm not sure why this is, but all I can say is that this seems so much more relatable to me, because it's people my age, in cities and on streets I've visited, doing things that I find utterly appalling.
It has genuinely saddened me to realise how many people there are in my country who apparently don't think twice about destroying independent businesses that rely on profit for income, burning family cars, looting local stores and generally behaving like mindless pack animals. It's not only horrifying, it's embarrassing. That these pathetic individuals cause chaos, for no reason they have bothered to assess or explain. It's also deeply embarrassing and misleading -- that this minority of young British people behave in such a way does nothing but taint the already damaged image of ALL young British people. I wish there was some way I could explain to these young adults, teenagers and sometimes flat-out kids that I - along with the majority of the country - find what they're doing pathetic, humiliating, ignorant and (frankly) very stupid. They really are rebels without a cause, and never before have I realised quite how pitiful such a thing is.
All that said, I have to say that it almost revives my image of my home to see all the people on the news, on the internet and on the streets who have gone out to try and fix the damage done by the cretins of the nation. The number of volunteers participating in the riot clean-ups of today have restored a little bit of the British pride that has been so badly damaged but the events of the past few days. I hope those people realise how fantastic what they're doing in, and how heartening it is for those of us lucky enough to be far away from the riots to see that there is at least one kind, intelligent and altruistic person out there for every ignorant thug.
Incidentally, my favourite completely unviable but hilariously confident solution to the riots so far has been my mums suggestion: "Chain the lot of them together, and tell them that they're not eating until they've cleared up their own mess." Sounds like a plan, to me.
I've never written about current affairs or news on my blog before, quite possibly because it's been quite some time since I've found the news quite as embarrassing, disgusting and personal as this. The riots that have been ripping through Britain in the past few days have truly shocked me, and have actually succeeded in battering through my usual 'oh well, it's not happening to me', selfish attitude to affect me. I'm not sure why this is, but all I can say is that this seems so much more relatable to me, because it's people my age, in cities and on streets I've visited, doing things that I find utterly appalling.
It has genuinely saddened me to realise how many people there are in my country who apparently don't think twice about destroying independent businesses that rely on profit for income, burning family cars, looting local stores and generally behaving like mindless pack animals. It's not only horrifying, it's embarrassing. That these pathetic individuals cause chaos, for no reason they have bothered to assess or explain. It's also deeply embarrassing and misleading -- that this minority of young British people behave in such a way does nothing but taint the already damaged image of ALL young British people. I wish there was some way I could explain to these young adults, teenagers and sometimes flat-out kids that I - along with the majority of the country - find what they're doing pathetic, humiliating, ignorant and (frankly) very stupid. They really are rebels without a cause, and never before have I realised quite how pitiful such a thing is.
All that said, I have to say that it almost revives my image of my home to see all the people on the news, on the internet and on the streets who have gone out to try and fix the damage done by the cretins of the nation. The number of volunteers participating in the riot clean-ups of today have restored a little bit of the British pride that has been so badly damaged but the events of the past few days. I hope those people realise how fantastic what they're doing in, and how heartening it is for those of us lucky enough to be far away from the riots to see that there is at least one kind, intelligent and altruistic person out there for every ignorant thug.
Incidentally, my favourite completely unviable but hilariously confident solution to the riots so far has been my mums suggestion: "Chain the lot of them together, and tell them that they're not eating until they've cleared up their own mess." Sounds like a plan, to me.
Sunday, 31 July 2011
July 2011 in Films, Books and Music
July 2011 has been a funny one -- it's absolutely whizzed past once again, what with two holidays, my school-leavers Prom, the end of Harry Potter and (resultantly) my childhood and the aftermath of my birthday -- meaning much film-watching and book-reading was to be done. Think I gave it a fair old go.
Films
I don't think, apart from Harry Potter (*cough* twice), I've been to the cinema this month, which is - to me - slightly tragic. That said, I've still managed to sneak in the occasional film, one old and three new.
Transformers - I know the sequel was pants, and I wasn't even bothered about watching the threequel (I'm claiming credit for that word), but you can't deny that the original was great. Funny, exciting, action-packed and pacey. Alright, so Megan Fox isn't exactly Meryl Streep and when the robot-aliens start fighting it's impossible (unless you're an obsessive teenage boy) to tell which metal limb belongs to the goodie and which to the baddie. Still. A cracking action-adventure film.
Due Date - I was expecting a Hangover-esque, cringey boy-comedy. This pretty much is a Hangover-esque, cringey boy-comedy. That said, it's also really quite funny, though there were a couple of avert-eyes-and-sigh moments.
Eskimo Day - This was a small, BBC film made at some point in the mid-nineties, featuring several different families handling of Cambridge interview day, with particular focus on a dysfunctional, privileged family from Cheltenham and a working-class family from Blackburn. Very, very funny, perceptive and generally lovely film.
Cold Enough For Snow - the sequel to Eskimo Day. Yet more ammo for the 'Sequels Are Always Shit' argument.
Music
Not a stand-out month music-wise...
Jack's Mannequin 'Dear Jack' EP - only a four-song EP, but a nice one. I always like a bit of Jack's Mannequin; they're very easy to listen to and hard to dislike. Favourite songs: 'There, There Katie' and 'Dear Jack'.
Michael Buble 'Crazy Love: Hollywood Edition' - I resent an artist releasing the same album twice, when the second one has ONE new song, and a bunch of live versions. I love Michael Buble, but I was annoyed that he made me pay twice as much money for what's essentially the same album I bought last year. Favourite song: 'Hollywood'.
Dire Straits 'Money For Nothing' - I dug this out of my Dad's CD collection and have to say that, whilst I enjoyed it, it didn't grab my attention. I didn't DISLIKE this album, I just didn't find anything particularly fantastic about it. Still a pretty good one though. Favourite songs: 'Walk Of Life', 'Romeo and Juliet' and 'Twisting By The Pool'.
Books
I've read a LOT this month, but I think we can all agree that the reading material hasn't exactly been James Joyce. That said, in terms of nostalgia and old-school pageturners, it's been awesome.
When God Was A Rabbit by Sarah Winman - read this on holiday, and whilst finding it somewhat OTT in places (that much crap could not happen to one family), the first half especially was poignant, clever and a fascinating read.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by JK Rowling - the beginning of my nostalgia kick. Loved it when I was six, still love it now I'm eighteen. Makes you realise how much the series progressed, whilst still retaining it's childlike appeal.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by JK Rowling - after Order of The Phoenix, my least favourite Harry Potter story. Still love it though.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by JK Rowling - my favourite. Have always, and will always treasure this book.
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins - it took me about seven hours to finish this book, and I adored it. I'd heard loads of hype and finally succumbed when I saw the trilogy in a 3 for 2 sale - hell, am I glad I did. Proper, action-packed, fast-moving, pageturning adventure books are not as common as I would like, and this was a superb example of what young adult books should be.
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins - not quite as gripping as the first in the series, but still excellent.
The Hunger Games: Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins - unfortunately I was quite disappointed in this one. After the joy of reading that was the first two, I think I expected too much of this, and didn't find it anywhere near as addictive. I also started to find the main character's incessant moaning slightly annoying, and couldn't help but role my eyes at the 'everyone is in love with the heroine' cliche. That said, still a great read.
Films
I don't think, apart from Harry Potter (*cough* twice), I've been to the cinema this month, which is - to me - slightly tragic. That said, I've still managed to sneak in the occasional film, one old and three new.
Transformers - I know the sequel was pants, and I wasn't even bothered about watching the threequel (I'm claiming credit for that word), but you can't deny that the original was great. Funny, exciting, action-packed and pacey. Alright, so Megan Fox isn't exactly Meryl Streep and when the robot-aliens start fighting it's impossible (unless you're an obsessive teenage boy) to tell which metal limb belongs to the goodie and which to the baddie. Still. A cracking action-adventure film.
Due Date - I was expecting a Hangover-esque, cringey boy-comedy. This pretty much is a Hangover-esque, cringey boy-comedy. That said, it's also really quite funny, though there were a couple of avert-eyes-and-sigh moments.
Eskimo Day - This was a small, BBC film made at some point in the mid-nineties, featuring several different families handling of Cambridge interview day, with particular focus on a dysfunctional, privileged family from Cheltenham and a working-class family from Blackburn. Very, very funny, perceptive and generally lovely film.
Cold Enough For Snow - the sequel to Eskimo Day. Yet more ammo for the 'Sequels Are Always Shit' argument.
Music
Not a stand-out month music-wise...
Jack's Mannequin 'Dear Jack' EP - only a four-song EP, but a nice one. I always like a bit of Jack's Mannequin; they're very easy to listen to and hard to dislike. Favourite songs: 'There, There Katie' and 'Dear Jack'.
Michael Buble 'Crazy Love: Hollywood Edition' - I resent an artist releasing the same album twice, when the second one has ONE new song, and a bunch of live versions. I love Michael Buble, but I was annoyed that he made me pay twice as much money for what's essentially the same album I bought last year. Favourite song: 'Hollywood'.
Dire Straits 'Money For Nothing' - I dug this out of my Dad's CD collection and have to say that, whilst I enjoyed it, it didn't grab my attention. I didn't DISLIKE this album, I just didn't find anything particularly fantastic about it. Still a pretty good one though. Favourite songs: 'Walk Of Life', 'Romeo and Juliet' and 'Twisting By The Pool'.
Books
I've read a LOT this month, but I think we can all agree that the reading material hasn't exactly been James Joyce. That said, in terms of nostalgia and old-school pageturners, it's been awesome.
When God Was A Rabbit by Sarah Winman - read this on holiday, and whilst finding it somewhat OTT in places (that much crap could not happen to one family), the first half especially was poignant, clever and a fascinating read.
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by JK Rowling - the beginning of my nostalgia kick. Loved it when I was six, still love it now I'm eighteen. Makes you realise how much the series progressed, whilst still retaining it's childlike appeal.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by JK Rowling - after Order of The Phoenix, my least favourite Harry Potter story. Still love it though.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by JK Rowling - my favourite. Have always, and will always treasure this book.
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins - it took me about seven hours to finish this book, and I adored it. I'd heard loads of hype and finally succumbed when I saw the trilogy in a 3 for 2 sale - hell, am I glad I did. Proper, action-packed, fast-moving, pageturning adventure books are not as common as I would like, and this was a superb example of what young adult books should be.
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins - not quite as gripping as the first in the series, but still excellent.
The Hunger Games: Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins - unfortunately I was quite disappointed in this one. After the joy of reading that was the first two, I think I expected too much of this, and didn't find it anywhere near as addictive. I also started to find the main character's incessant moaning slightly annoying, and couldn't help but role my eyes at the 'everyone is in love with the heroine' cliche. That said, still a great read.
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Things I Have Learned About Holland
I've spent the past few days in the Netherlands with my family and some old friends. We used to visit them every couple of years but, one way or another, this is the first time we've been to Holland in about ten years, and I learned some fascinating things whilst there. Observe.
What English people label as 'Dutch Apple Pie' is an insult to any and every Dutch baker.
There are thousands of cyclists, not one of which wears a helmet.
These thousands of cyclists have right of way, thus will zoom cheerfully in front of a 40mph car under the natural (and often misguided) assumption it will stop.
They have these biscuits called stroopwaffle which is what I now imagine the streets of heaven to be paved with.
The old ladies will not thank you, look at you, or even acknowledge your existence if you pick up their crutch for them.
Their version of Harrods is called De Bijenkorf and means 'The Beehive', which is a much better name than Harrods.
Prostitution is legal and not only do they not bother hiding the Amsterdam Red Light District, you can buy fridge magnets with it's name (and naked ladies) on.
Cannabis cafes are also legal, but only in Amsterdam, not the rest of Holland.
You have to join a REALLY long queue to see the Anne Frank House. And it's worth every second.
Amsterdam's canals are also Amsterdam's sewers. Swim at your own risk.
Poffertjes are NOT 'just like pancakes' and you will be VERY VERY UNPOPULAR if you suggest otherwise.
When they say that 'walking to the top of that tower won't even break you out in a sweat', they lie.
The weather is only slightly better than England's.
If you use the words 'butty', 'cob' or 'sarnie' in relation to a sandwich, you will confuse people. (That probably applies to all foreign countries, and probably large portions of England, actually...)
They drive on the right hand side, and do so in a slightly maniacal fashion.
They're really tall.
It is very, very flat.
If the entirety of the USA was as environment-friendly as Holland, there would be no global warming problem.
What English people label as 'Dutch Apple Pie' is an insult to any and every Dutch baker.
There are thousands of cyclists, not one of which wears a helmet.
These thousands of cyclists have right of way, thus will zoom cheerfully in front of a 40mph car under the natural (and often misguided) assumption it will stop.
They have these biscuits called stroopwaffle which is what I now imagine the streets of heaven to be paved with.
The old ladies will not thank you, look at you, or even acknowledge your existence if you pick up their crutch for them.
Their version of Harrods is called De Bijenkorf and means 'The Beehive', which is a much better name than Harrods.
Prostitution is legal and not only do they not bother hiding the Amsterdam Red Light District, you can buy fridge magnets with it's name (and naked ladies) on.
Cannabis cafes are also legal, but only in Amsterdam, not the rest of Holland.
You have to join a REALLY long queue to see the Anne Frank House. And it's worth every second.
Amsterdam's canals are also Amsterdam's sewers. Swim at your own risk.
Poffertjes are NOT 'just like pancakes' and you will be VERY VERY UNPOPULAR if you suggest otherwise.
When they say that 'walking to the top of that tower won't even break you out in a sweat', they lie.
The weather is only slightly better than England's.
If you use the words 'butty', 'cob' or 'sarnie' in relation to a sandwich, you will confuse people. (That probably applies to all foreign countries, and probably large portions of England, actually...)
They drive on the right hand side, and do so in a slightly maniacal fashion.
They're really tall.
It is very, very flat.
If the entirety of the USA was as environment-friendly as Holland, there would be no global warming problem.
Sunday, 17 July 2011
Twelve All Over Again
It's been a while since I wrote a post. Feel I should say something. Maybe something deep and poignant, or bitch-slap you all with some of my needle-sharp wit and cleverness, or even an intelligent rant about the true evils of the world.
But I can't do any of that, because I am currently re-visiting my childhood and being obsessed with Harry Potter. In the past four days, I've watched every single film, seen the latest one at the cinemas twice (and it only came out on Friday) re-read the first two books, watched a shameful amount of YouTube cast interviews and spent all awake moments and the majority of sleeping ones thinking about it.
No explanation, no excuses. I'm twelve again. And I like it.
But I can't do any of that, because I am currently re-visiting my childhood and being obsessed with Harry Potter. In the past four days, I've watched every single film, seen the latest one at the cinemas twice (and it only came out on Friday) re-read the first two books, watched a shameful amount of YouTube cast interviews and spent all awake moments and the majority of sleeping ones thinking about it.
No explanation, no excuses. I'm twelve again. And I like it.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
June 2011 In Films, Books and Music
This month has been absolutely mental. Not in the wild, exciting, not-getting-up-until-it's-dark and never remembering how you got home kind of mental. The kind of mental that means being so busy you regularly write '4th June 2011' on important documents, when it's actually the 21st. June 2011 has gone so fast I'm surprised it hasn't left a stream of dust behind it, and - to be honest - thank God. With the end of June comes the end of exams, the end of exam-related stress, exam-related insomnia, exam-related breakdowns, exam-related weeping and non-exam-related my 18th birthday. But that's not relevant. Somehow (and I really have no idea how - though it might have something to do with the afore-mentioned insomnia) I've still managed to watch films, listen to music and read books.
Films
Once again, I must plug my other blog ( http://www.filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com ), on which I (sort of) regularly review, discuss and generally drool over the wonder that is films. In terms of movies, this month has been...varied.
Evil Dead - watched this (and the sequel) at a movie-night, and have to say the atmosphere added to the film. I've spoken about my wariness of horror films, but this, whilst apparently trying to be scary, was stomach-crampingly funny. Ridiculous, cliche, gruesome and bloody hilarious.
Shaun Of The Dead - I'd avoided this film for a really long time because I didn't think it would appeal to my kind of comedy at all. How wrong I was. Having been forced to watch Paul at the cinema and enjoying it far more than I expected to, I decided to give this a go and was, again, pleasantly surprised. Now and then a bit too silly, generally speaking I found this hilarious and far superior to what is arguably it's American counterpart Zombieland.
Timeline - this little-known (well, little-known in comparison to, like, Harry Potter) Michael Crichton adaptation is a good'un. Adventure-y, funny in places, romantic, action-y, exciting and with eye candy for every taste. Rarely remember I own it, always enjoy it.
Wimbledon - a rare example of a genuinely funny rom-com, plus the ever-appealing Paul Bettany, plus a sports movie I actually know a bit of background too. Watching the real Wimbledon always puts me in the mood for this film, and other than one or two howlers in the dialogue, I love it every time.
P.S. I Love You - watched this on my own, late at night, whilst feeling slightly fragile. Thought that, since it's about the eighth time I've watched it, I'd be able to keep a grip on myself. Failed utterly. People can say what they like about this film, I really like it; it makes me laugh without fail and it makes me cry without fail and, really, what more could you ask for?
Music
These albums came to me in dribs and drabs over the month, so I've listened to them all different amounts of time. Though I have no excuse as to the bizarre range of my music taste.
Simon and Garfunkel, 'The Simon And Garfunkel Collection' - I've always loved a bit of Simon and Garfunkel (together moreso than separate), largely because I find their acoustic, harmonising style haunting, memorable and mesmerisingly beautiful in it's simplicity. Have always and will always love these guys. Favourite tracks - 'Homeward Bound', 'The Boxer', 'The Sound Of Silence' and 'Cecelia'.
Pixie Lott, 'Turn It Up' - I listened to this through twice, then deleted it from my iPod. Not rubbish, just not at all my thing. The one song I kept - 'Cry Me Out'.
The Baseballs, 'Strings 'n Stripes' - These guys really are a band like no other, literally. They take modern, often dance-y, occasionally crap songs and give them a 1950s style makeover; it almost always produces WICKED results. I adored their last album, and whilst being mildly annoyed by the fact that many of my fav tracks from this album were 'live' (I dislike live versions on albums. No reason. I'm just picky), I loved this. Didn't think it packed the same punch as the first album, but still well worth a listen. Favourite tracks - 'Tik Tok', 'Candy Shop', 'I'm Yours' and 'Paparazzi'.
Adele, '21' - I only borrowed this album from a friend a few days ago, but I've had it on repeat incessantly since. Generally speaking, anything that makes Number One in the charts either flies past unnoticed by me, or I hear it blaring from my brother's bedroom and loathe it. Not so with Adele. I love the raw, bluesy sexiness of her voice and think this is certainly one of the best albums I've listened to this year. Favourite tracks - 'Someone Like You', 'Set Fire To The Rain', 'Rolling In The Deep', 'Turning Tables' and 'One And Only'. Also, my friend Amy wrote a blogpost about this album which more or less sums it up to perfection: http://music-is-my-refuge.blogspot.com/2011/04/sort-of-album-i-want-to-make.html
Books
I will make no excuses for the fact that everything I read this month was pure entertainment. I spent so much time revising, I didn't have the brain space to read anything heavy. More 'classics', doorstoppers and 'literary' books next month, I promise.
Anna And The French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins - my Walking Library of a best friend leant this to me with her usual proviso 'I really enjoyed this and I think you will, but it will also irritate you'. As usual, she was spot on. I really enjoyed this, in the sense that it was easy to read, sweet, romantic and funny. That said, it didn't escape from the genre's standard trap of being very predictable and, here and there, a touch too cliche.
Dear Fatty by Dawn French - I love Dawn French, and I love autobiographies, so I was delighted to find this on my Mum's shelf. I thought the style of being written in letters would irritate me, but I actually REALLY liked it - it gave the book a personable tone that was really easy to relate to. I was surprised by how much Dawn French's story moved me, but it also had it's fair share of laugh-out-loud moments. Highly recommended.
13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson - on a similar vein to Anna And The French Kiss, this is cheesy and teenage but in a good way. That said, I didn't actually find it as funny or as compelling as Anna And..., and I found the main character considerably more irritating (she just MOANED incessantly), I also found the romantic interest much more attractive. Matter of opinion, really.
It's Not What You Think by Chris Evans - still haven't quite finished this but I've enjoyed it more than expected. I love Chris Evans radio show and love the fact that he's from the North-West (inexplicable but true), and I've found his autobiography a funny and interesting read. That said, he goes on about radio technicalities a bit too much, and is a bit too light on himself (in my opinion) regarding some of the stupider things he's done in his life.
Films
Once again, I must plug my other blog ( http://www.filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com ), on which I (sort of) regularly review, discuss and generally drool over the wonder that is films. In terms of movies, this month has been...varied.
Evil Dead - watched this (and the sequel) at a movie-night, and have to say the atmosphere added to the film. I've spoken about my wariness of horror films, but this, whilst apparently trying to be scary, was stomach-crampingly funny. Ridiculous, cliche, gruesome and bloody hilarious.
Shaun Of The Dead - I'd avoided this film for a really long time because I didn't think it would appeal to my kind of comedy at all. How wrong I was. Having been forced to watch Paul at the cinema and enjoying it far more than I expected to, I decided to give this a go and was, again, pleasantly surprised. Now and then a bit too silly, generally speaking I found this hilarious and far superior to what is arguably it's American counterpart Zombieland.
Timeline - this little-known (well, little-known in comparison to, like, Harry Potter) Michael Crichton adaptation is a good'un. Adventure-y, funny in places, romantic, action-y, exciting and with eye candy for every taste. Rarely remember I own it, always enjoy it.
Wimbledon - a rare example of a genuinely funny rom-com, plus the ever-appealing Paul Bettany, plus a sports movie I actually know a bit of background too. Watching the real Wimbledon always puts me in the mood for this film, and other than one or two howlers in the dialogue, I love it every time.
P.S. I Love You - watched this on my own, late at night, whilst feeling slightly fragile. Thought that, since it's about the eighth time I've watched it, I'd be able to keep a grip on myself. Failed utterly. People can say what they like about this film, I really like it; it makes me laugh without fail and it makes me cry without fail and, really, what more could you ask for?
Music
These albums came to me in dribs and drabs over the month, so I've listened to them all different amounts of time. Though I have no excuse as to the bizarre range of my music taste.
Simon and Garfunkel, 'The Simon And Garfunkel Collection' - I've always loved a bit of Simon and Garfunkel (together moreso than separate), largely because I find their acoustic, harmonising style haunting, memorable and mesmerisingly beautiful in it's simplicity. Have always and will always love these guys. Favourite tracks - 'Homeward Bound', 'The Boxer', 'The Sound Of Silence' and 'Cecelia'.
Pixie Lott, 'Turn It Up' - I listened to this through twice, then deleted it from my iPod. Not rubbish, just not at all my thing. The one song I kept - 'Cry Me Out'.
The Baseballs, 'Strings 'n Stripes' - These guys really are a band like no other, literally. They take modern, often dance-y, occasionally crap songs and give them a 1950s style makeover; it almost always produces WICKED results. I adored their last album, and whilst being mildly annoyed by the fact that many of my fav tracks from this album were 'live' (I dislike live versions on albums. No reason. I'm just picky), I loved this. Didn't think it packed the same punch as the first album, but still well worth a listen. Favourite tracks - 'Tik Tok', 'Candy Shop', 'I'm Yours' and 'Paparazzi'.
Adele, '21' - I only borrowed this album from a friend a few days ago, but I've had it on repeat incessantly since. Generally speaking, anything that makes Number One in the charts either flies past unnoticed by me, or I hear it blaring from my brother's bedroom and loathe it. Not so with Adele. I love the raw, bluesy sexiness of her voice and think this is certainly one of the best albums I've listened to this year. Favourite tracks - 'Someone Like You', 'Set Fire To The Rain', 'Rolling In The Deep', 'Turning Tables' and 'One And Only'. Also, my friend Amy wrote a blogpost about this album which more or less sums it up to perfection: http://music-is-my-refuge.blogspot.com/2011/04/sort-of-album-i-want-to-make.html
Books
I will make no excuses for the fact that everything I read this month was pure entertainment. I spent so much time revising, I didn't have the brain space to read anything heavy. More 'classics', doorstoppers and 'literary' books next month, I promise.
Anna And The French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins - my Walking Library of a best friend leant this to me with her usual proviso 'I really enjoyed this and I think you will, but it will also irritate you'. As usual, she was spot on. I really enjoyed this, in the sense that it was easy to read, sweet, romantic and funny. That said, it didn't escape from the genre's standard trap of being very predictable and, here and there, a touch too cliche.
Dear Fatty by Dawn French - I love Dawn French, and I love autobiographies, so I was delighted to find this on my Mum's shelf. I thought the style of being written in letters would irritate me, but I actually REALLY liked it - it gave the book a personable tone that was really easy to relate to. I was surprised by how much Dawn French's story moved me, but it also had it's fair share of laugh-out-loud moments. Highly recommended.
13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson - on a similar vein to Anna And The French Kiss, this is cheesy and teenage but in a good way. That said, I didn't actually find it as funny or as compelling as Anna And..., and I found the main character considerably more irritating (she just MOANED incessantly), I also found the romantic interest much more attractive. Matter of opinion, really.
It's Not What You Think by Chris Evans - still haven't quite finished this but I've enjoyed it more than expected. I love Chris Evans radio show and love the fact that he's from the North-West (inexplicable but true), and I've found his autobiography a funny and interesting read. That said, he goes on about radio technicalities a bit too much, and is a bit too light on himself (in my opinion) regarding some of the stupider things he's done in his life.
Monday, 27 June 2011
Just A Small Town Girl
So I have officially finished compulsory education. And writing that sentence down was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Obviously it didn't exactly come as a surprise; it's not like we all turned up to school one day and the headmaster stood up in assembly and said "Hey, you're never coming back again! Surprise!": that would probably have been met with ironic cheering. But of course, I've known I was leaving for...well, about fourteen years. Seven years of primary school, five years of secondary education and two years of sixthform. Finished. Done. Completed. Finite. Weird.
It's not just that though; growing up seems to have really snuck up on me these past few weeks. I was so focused on exams, revision, planning and preparing for my future, I forgot how close it all was. My last ever A-Level exam was last Friday, in two days it's my 18th birthday (when I become a legal adult), less than a week after which I head off on my first ever no-parents/responsible-adults holiday, and a couple of months after that I move out. Into a new city, with new people, to a new kind of learning and an entirely new experience. And, at this moment in time, I don't even know which city. And that's terrifying. So terrifying, that right now it doesn't really seem real, just...overwhelming. And I just don't know if I'm ready.
Okay, fair enough, some days, I think "Dear God, bring it on. Get me out of this familiar town with these familiar places and familiar people." Admittedly, usually on a day when one of the familiar people has pissed me off. But in the sense of leaving, I think I am ready. I love my friends, and I love my family, but I need to meet some new people. I need some new problems to face, not the same old bollocks. I need some new challenges, not recycling the same tried-and-tested methods. I need some new experiences, not the same night replaying in front of my helpless eyes like an unstoppable Groundhog Day. It's not that I'm sick of what I have, I just need more. I'm too comfortable in my environment, too comfortable with everything and everyone in it, and it feels like cabin fever. I lose my temper faster, act tetchier and get less excited about upcoming events - nothing has changed, except me. And I haven't even changed, I don't think, I've just grown (that sounded tragically hippy-ish). I hope it's not just me. I don't think it is just me.
But then I think of all the things I'll miss. My mum, my best friend, my bed, my comfortable, routine life. Because I know that I can do this; I have a place here. Admittedly, sometimes that place is as the bossy and tactless one, but sometimes it's the listener, or the comforter, or the shoulder to cry on. Starting off in a new place I'll be place-less and persona-less. That's good, in that it gives you the chance to reinvent and better yourself, but it sucks in that (for a while, at least) I won't have a place, a role to play, a person to be, an essential part of the eclectic mismatch that makes a friendship. Now that is terrifying.
And there are SO MANY things I worry about; questions that won't get answered until it's too late to go back, big and obvious, or small and personal. Will I end up where I want to go? Did I chose the right place? Will I make friends? Will I like the people I live with? Will I fit in? Will my friends keep in touch with me, without prompting? How am I going to earn enough money to pay for living in a city without a parent paying for food, a roof and (arguably most importantly) central heating? Will I embarass myself when my new friends/flatmates witness my pitiful attempts at cooking? Will it irritate them that I have to wash my hair every day in the single shower shared between five or six of us? Am I going to have to get a job, or could I struggle by on loans and wishful thinking? What the hell is an ISA, and do I have to figure out financial paperwork(which, I'm sorry, may as well be written in Ancient Greek)? Do I have to register with a new doctor/dentist/optician? How much of my own cooking paraphernalia do I need to take? Are my books going to be horribly expensive? Will I enjoy my course? Will my university days be the best of my life, or a disappointing train wreck? Will the shake-up be too much for my sheltered and content brain to handle? Or will it be the best decision I'll ever make?
That's about 2% of the questions that flutter mockingly through my mind constantly, and I can't answer any of them. I'm afraid that I have developed a small-town mindset, that I've become too comfortable with these people, and this place, and this life. I'm scared that I'll never feel as comfortable and safe with these exciting new people as I do with the loved ones around me now. Some of these worries seem trivial and inconsequential, but they're there, and they'll stay there for the foreseeable future.
I take a lot of comfort from knowing that everyone else in my situation must feel the same way. And I take a lot of comfort from knowing that the people I'm embarking on this excitingly petrifying new journey with are in the same situation as me. And I take a bit of comfort from my mother's oft-repeated mantra that "It'll be fine." And I hope it will be.
But I guess we'll see.
It's not just that though; growing up seems to have really snuck up on me these past few weeks. I was so focused on exams, revision, planning and preparing for my future, I forgot how close it all was. My last ever A-Level exam was last Friday, in two days it's my 18th birthday (when I become a legal adult), less than a week after which I head off on my first ever no-parents/responsible-adults holiday, and a couple of months after that I move out. Into a new city, with new people, to a new kind of learning and an entirely new experience. And, at this moment in time, I don't even know which city. And that's terrifying. So terrifying, that right now it doesn't really seem real, just...overwhelming. And I just don't know if I'm ready.
Okay, fair enough, some days, I think "Dear God, bring it on. Get me out of this familiar town with these familiar places and familiar people." Admittedly, usually on a day when one of the familiar people has pissed me off. But in the sense of leaving, I think I am ready. I love my friends, and I love my family, but I need to meet some new people. I need some new problems to face, not the same old bollocks. I need some new challenges, not recycling the same tried-and-tested methods. I need some new experiences, not the same night replaying in front of my helpless eyes like an unstoppable Groundhog Day. It's not that I'm sick of what I have, I just need more. I'm too comfortable in my environment, too comfortable with everything and everyone in it, and it feels like cabin fever. I lose my temper faster, act tetchier and get less excited about upcoming events - nothing has changed, except me. And I haven't even changed, I don't think, I've just grown (that sounded tragically hippy-ish). I hope it's not just me. I don't think it is just me.
But then I think of all the things I'll miss. My mum, my best friend, my bed, my comfortable, routine life. Because I know that I can do this; I have a place here. Admittedly, sometimes that place is as the bossy and tactless one, but sometimes it's the listener, or the comforter, or the shoulder to cry on. Starting off in a new place I'll be place-less and persona-less. That's good, in that it gives you the chance to reinvent and better yourself, but it sucks in that (for a while, at least) I won't have a place, a role to play, a person to be, an essential part of the eclectic mismatch that makes a friendship. Now that is terrifying.
And there are SO MANY things I worry about; questions that won't get answered until it's too late to go back, big and obvious, or small and personal. Will I end up where I want to go? Did I chose the right place? Will I make friends? Will I like the people I live with? Will I fit in? Will my friends keep in touch with me, without prompting? How am I going to earn enough money to pay for living in a city without a parent paying for food, a roof and (arguably most importantly) central heating? Will I embarass myself when my new friends/flatmates witness my pitiful attempts at cooking? Will it irritate them that I have to wash my hair every day in the single shower shared between five or six of us? Am I going to have to get a job, or could I struggle by on loans and wishful thinking? What the hell is an ISA, and do I have to figure out financial paperwork(which, I'm sorry, may as well be written in Ancient Greek)? Do I have to register with a new doctor/dentist/optician? How much of my own cooking paraphernalia do I need to take? Are my books going to be horribly expensive? Will I enjoy my course? Will my university days be the best of my life, or a disappointing train wreck? Will the shake-up be too much for my sheltered and content brain to handle? Or will it be the best decision I'll ever make?
That's about 2% of the questions that flutter mockingly through my mind constantly, and I can't answer any of them. I'm afraid that I have developed a small-town mindset, that I've become too comfortable with these people, and this place, and this life. I'm scared that I'll never feel as comfortable and safe with these exciting new people as I do with the loved ones around me now. Some of these worries seem trivial and inconsequential, but they're there, and they'll stay there for the foreseeable future.
I take a lot of comfort from knowing that everyone else in my situation must feel the same way. And I take a lot of comfort from knowing that the people I'm embarking on this excitingly petrifying new journey with are in the same situation as me. And I take a bit of comfort from my mother's oft-repeated mantra that "It'll be fine." And I hope it will be.
But I guess we'll see.
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Wimbledon
It is currently the night before what will (please God) be my last ever A-Level examination. Whilst this is generally wonderful news, it is bad in that right now I should be frantically cramming language theorists and lexical mnemonics into my head, and am instead writing a blog post. But I firmly subscribe to the belief that revision is made far more effective if you allow yourself to have periodic breaks and rests, and over the past few days, my breaks have been centred around one thing: Wimbledon.
I'm not much of a sporty person. Okay, understatement. I am an exceptionally unfit and exercise-hating person who considered PE lessons Satan's personal attempt to torture and humiliate me. I don't give two hoots about football, I only ever watch two minutes of rugby to ogle any goodlooking players, I think cricket is one of the dullest pasttimes ever invented and boxing is just barbaric. That said, I really enjoy watching a bit of tennis. There's something so sophisticated and genteel about Wimbledon, and I feel slightly more cultured simply by watching it.
In my mind, it also has loads of positive associations. When I think of Wimbledon, my mental image is of sitting with my Mum in shorts and a strappy top, drinking Pimms and discussing my birthday (which usually falls in or just after the Wimbledon fortnight). And that's a pretty awesome picture.
Plus, it's one of the few sports I actually get excited about. Whenever the World Cup is on, my overwhelming feeling towards it is a longing for it to be over, and for my fellow Brits to get a grip (the team is NOT the best it's ever been, we are NOT going to win and you WILL end up weeping into your beer by half-time). But tennis is actually INTERESTING. I understand the rules, for a start (though the scoring system has always seemed somewhat unnecessarily complicated), there is much more male-female equality, tennis players are rarely (if ever) thugs, and the most explosive a tennis-fan confrontation is likely to get would probably result in someone getting strawberries and cream dumped over their straw hats.
There's something so tense and exhilerating about a match point, and the Wimbledon final holds my attention (and my stomach butterflies) in a far more tenuous grasp than any football match has ever achieved.
But I'm especially grateful to Wimbledon this week, because it's given me a chance to sit back and relax, to forget about my revision-dependent future and have a legitimate excuse for alcohol consumption the night before an exam. What more could you ask from a sporting tournament?
I'm not much of a sporty person. Okay, understatement. I am an exceptionally unfit and exercise-hating person who considered PE lessons Satan's personal attempt to torture and humiliate me. I don't give two hoots about football, I only ever watch two minutes of rugby to ogle any goodlooking players, I think cricket is one of the dullest pasttimes ever invented and boxing is just barbaric. That said, I really enjoy watching a bit of tennis. There's something so sophisticated and genteel about Wimbledon, and I feel slightly more cultured simply by watching it.
In my mind, it also has loads of positive associations. When I think of Wimbledon, my mental image is of sitting with my Mum in shorts and a strappy top, drinking Pimms and discussing my birthday (which usually falls in or just after the Wimbledon fortnight). And that's a pretty awesome picture.
Plus, it's one of the few sports I actually get excited about. Whenever the World Cup is on, my overwhelming feeling towards it is a longing for it to be over, and for my fellow Brits to get a grip (the team is NOT the best it's ever been, we are NOT going to win and you WILL end up weeping into your beer by half-time). But tennis is actually INTERESTING. I understand the rules, for a start (though the scoring system has always seemed somewhat unnecessarily complicated), there is much more male-female equality, tennis players are rarely (if ever) thugs, and the most explosive a tennis-fan confrontation is likely to get would probably result in someone getting strawberries and cream dumped over their straw hats.
There's something so tense and exhilerating about a match point, and the Wimbledon final holds my attention (and my stomach butterflies) in a far more tenuous grasp than any football match has ever achieved.
But I'm especially grateful to Wimbledon this week, because it's given me a chance to sit back and relax, to forget about my revision-dependent future and have a legitimate excuse for alcohol consumption the night before an exam. What more could you ask from a sporting tournament?
Sunday, 19 June 2011
Procrastination
I'm waiting for my Chinese to arrive and officially sick of revision. In the past 48 hours I have re-watched all three hour and a half episodes of Sherlock, as well as both hour and a half audio commentaries, and I will then move on to Merlin.
At least six Sims 2 babies have been born, the Facebook homepage has been refreshed more times than I can remember, TV Tropes has essentially been utterly violated by my thorough and invasive examination, dozens of cuppas have been drunk and YouTube has been gormlessly stared at for probably several hours worth of videos. This is what my revision looks like.
On the plus side, five more days of revising, then freedom. So, to quote William Wallace (well, okay...Mel Gibson), five more days of work. FOR FREEDOM!!!!!!
At least six Sims 2 babies have been born, the Facebook homepage has been refreshed more times than I can remember, TV Tropes has essentially been utterly violated by my thorough and invasive examination, dozens of cuppas have been drunk and YouTube has been gormlessly stared at for probably several hours worth of videos. This is what my revision looks like.
On the plus side, five more days of revising, then freedom. So, to quote William Wallace (well, okay...Mel Gibson), five more days of work. FOR FREEDOM!!!!!!
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Give Me Five!
I am slightly bored (again) and decided to do a slightly tedious blog post (again) that I slightly ripped off someone else (again). Here are some Top Fives for you.
Top Five Qualities In The Male Species
1. Sense of humour - because anyone who doesn't have one should not be within a fifty-metre radius of me.
2. Inner-nerd - by which I mean full and total appreciation of all or a combination of the following: film trivia, bad cop shows, travel, little-known bands, history, wittiness, writing and mildly embarrassing obsessions. But especially film trivia.
3. Chattiness - because quiet people scare me.
4. Humility - because arrogance reminds me of Piers Morgan, and there's just no need for that.
5. Tolerance - because one of us needs to be able to deal with the following: small children, Jehovah's Witnesses, technology, smug people and people who phone up trying to flog you stuff.
Top Five Indulgences
1. Amazon - it's not an interest. It's an addiction. And it's really, really bad for my bank account.
2. Heinz spaghetti on toast - don't ask why, but a bad day can be solved with a can of spaghetti and toast.
3. Rubbish films - by which I mean those cheesy rom-coms that are good for nothing but nights in with chocolate and misery.
4. Paperchase - pretty, useful and with the truly unique ability to make history revision more interesting. Shame about the price tags.
5. Uniball ink pens - it makes my writing look pretty. And it's not THAT weird. Is it?
Top Five Fears
1. Sharks - because they will eat me.
2. The ocean - because it is full of the sharks that will eat me.
3. Wasps - I am one of those people who sees a wasp, leaps up and runs around shrieking until it targets someone else. As such, I am one of those people who is consistently stalked by wasps.
4. Quiet people - they make me uncomfortable, but they're so timid and nice-seeming that you can't even work up enough animosity to dislike them. It's very annoying.
5. My mother - a healthy respect of your parent is natural and necessary. Especially when they're as scary as mine.
Top Five Guilty Crushes
1. Gene Hunt - something about the manliness.
2. Dr House - I'm not alone with this one, and it's similar to Gene Hunt...
3. Liam Neeson - I know he's old enough to be my grandfather, but the man is 6'4'' and has a voice that could make angels weep.
4. Paul Bettany - ESPECIALLY in A Knight's Tale. And not (just) because he's naked.
5. Russell Howard - despite the fact I'm 99% sure he's shorter than me, he has a lazy eye and an occasionally immature sense of humour, I will one day marry him.
Top Five Methods of Procrastination
1. Writing A Blog - thus.
2. Television Catch-Up - my temporary and somewhat embarrassing addiction to One Tree Hill was born of a deep, DEEP desire to avoid GCSE revision.
3. YouTube - encourager of cyber-stalking, guilty crushes, time-wasting and brain-numbing. Dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
4. Twitter/Facebook - say no more.
5. Cups of tea - at the moment (two days before my exams start) I'm up to about fourteen cups a day. At this very moment, I'm drinking my fifteenth.
There you go. Doesn't your life now feel just a LITTLE more exciting?
Top Five Qualities In The Male Species
1. Sense of humour - because anyone who doesn't have one should not be within a fifty-metre radius of me.
2. Inner-nerd - by which I mean full and total appreciation of all or a combination of the following: film trivia, bad cop shows, travel, little-known bands, history, wittiness, writing and mildly embarrassing obsessions. But especially film trivia.
3. Chattiness - because quiet people scare me.
4. Humility - because arrogance reminds me of Piers Morgan, and there's just no need for that.
5. Tolerance - because one of us needs to be able to deal with the following: small children, Jehovah's Witnesses, technology, smug people and people who phone up trying to flog you stuff.
Top Five Indulgences
1. Amazon - it's not an interest. It's an addiction. And it's really, really bad for my bank account.
2. Heinz spaghetti on toast - don't ask why, but a bad day can be solved with a can of spaghetti and toast.
3. Rubbish films - by which I mean those cheesy rom-coms that are good for nothing but nights in with chocolate and misery.
4. Paperchase - pretty, useful and with the truly unique ability to make history revision more interesting. Shame about the price tags.
5. Uniball ink pens - it makes my writing look pretty. And it's not THAT weird. Is it?
Top Five Fears
1. Sharks - because they will eat me.
2. The ocean - because it is full of the sharks that will eat me.
3. Wasps - I am one of those people who sees a wasp, leaps up and runs around shrieking until it targets someone else. As such, I am one of those people who is consistently stalked by wasps.
4. Quiet people - they make me uncomfortable, but they're so timid and nice-seeming that you can't even work up enough animosity to dislike them. It's very annoying.
5. My mother - a healthy respect of your parent is natural and necessary. Especially when they're as scary as mine.
Top Five Guilty Crushes
1. Gene Hunt - something about the manliness.
2. Dr House - I'm not alone with this one, and it's similar to Gene Hunt...
3. Liam Neeson - I know he's old enough to be my grandfather, but the man is 6'4'' and has a voice that could make angels weep.
4. Paul Bettany - ESPECIALLY in A Knight's Tale. And not (just) because he's naked.
5. Russell Howard - despite the fact I'm 99% sure he's shorter than me, he has a lazy eye and an occasionally immature sense of humour, I will one day marry him.
Top Five Methods of Procrastination
1. Writing A Blog - thus.
2. Television Catch-Up - my temporary and somewhat embarrassing addiction to One Tree Hill was born of a deep, DEEP desire to avoid GCSE revision.
3. YouTube - encourager of cyber-stalking, guilty crushes, time-wasting and brain-numbing. Dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
4. Twitter/Facebook - say no more.
5. Cups of tea - at the moment (two days before my exams start) I'm up to about fourteen cups a day. At this very moment, I'm drinking my fifteenth.
There you go. Doesn't your life now feel just a LITTLE more exciting?
Saturday, 4 June 2011
The Scale Of Like
It's now afternoon and I'm still sat - unshowered - in my dressing gown with the curtains closed, having had my standard Saturday morning YouTube catch-up. As I am about to embark on arguably the most important three weeks of my life so far - examinations, the results of which will decide where I live, who my friends are and essentially which direction my life goes in - I figured that writing a silly blog post instead of revising was the way forward. If I fail my A-Levels, it's the internet's fault.
So I've been doing a lot of reading recently, and I was trying to come up with a system of rating books. Because on my film-blog I use the standard five-star rating thing, but it frustrates me when I have to lump two films in the same rating even though I found one significantly better than the other. I considered broadening into the ten-star spectrum, but then giving six stars sounds mean, when it actually means the film was better than average.
And the other day I was talking to a friend and was trying to explain to him that I measure people according to a Scale of Like, that goes something like this: -
People I love and actively try to spend lots of time with.
People I like and enjoy spending time with.
People I like but don't go out of my way to see.
People I don't really like but enjoy the company of.
People I'm indifferent to.
People I don't like and would rather not see/meet.
People I really don't like and actively avoid.
It occurred to me that what this basically means is that there are two measurements of a person; how much you like them, and how much you enjoy their company. These are not the same things. You can consider somebody a really decent, kind and generous person but find some habit of theirs irreconcilably irritating (like those religious people who live exceptionally generous lives, but constantly try to shove their views down your throat); so you like them, but you don't actually want to spend all that much time with them. And there are those people who you know aren't actually very nice, but they're funny or charismatic or just exciting to be with, so you enjoy seeing them regardless (like that person in every group who everyone's actually slightly frightened of, but they're so much fun you have to keep them around).
But I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing to place people on the Scale Of Like. I don't think it makes a judgemental person, because if it did then the world would be full of judgemental people, because a personality is completely subjective. What one person finds annoying another person can find endearing. What one person finds weird, another finds funny. What one person finds romantic, another finds sickening. That's just life; everyone has their own Scale Of Like, and every person is different on every Scale.
I think I lost my point somewhere along this blog, because reading it back it looks like I'm saying "It's okay to judge people," which isn't my point at all. My point is that it's fine to not like people sometimes, because whatever it is that you don't like about them, someone else will love. And besides, not-liking someone isn't as simple as just not liking them. Or something.
(I was going to end it there, but then the ridiculousness of my current situation hit me and I thought I'd paint you a picture. A 17-year-old girl with last night's make-up smudged across her face, greasy-haired and wearing a dressing gown with her curtains closed at 12.30pm, writing a philosophical blog post only her friend's will read with a slightly iffy message, instead of revising for the exams that dictate the rest of her life. Ah, the youth of today.)
So I've been doing a lot of reading recently, and I was trying to come up with a system of rating books. Because on my film-blog I use the standard five-star rating thing, but it frustrates me when I have to lump two films in the same rating even though I found one significantly better than the other. I considered broadening into the ten-star spectrum, but then giving six stars sounds mean, when it actually means the film was better than average.
And the other day I was talking to a friend and was trying to explain to him that I measure people according to a Scale of Like, that goes something like this: -
People I love and actively try to spend lots of time with.
People I like and enjoy spending time with.
People I like but don't go out of my way to see.
People I don't really like but enjoy the company of.
People I'm indifferent to.
People I don't like and would rather not see/meet.
People I really don't like and actively avoid.
It occurred to me that what this basically means is that there are two measurements of a person; how much you like them, and how much you enjoy their company. These are not the same things. You can consider somebody a really decent, kind and generous person but find some habit of theirs irreconcilably irritating (like those religious people who live exceptionally generous lives, but constantly try to shove their views down your throat); so you like them, but you don't actually want to spend all that much time with them. And there are those people who you know aren't actually very nice, but they're funny or charismatic or just exciting to be with, so you enjoy seeing them regardless (like that person in every group who everyone's actually slightly frightened of, but they're so much fun you have to keep them around).
But I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing to place people on the Scale Of Like. I don't think it makes a judgemental person, because if it did then the world would be full of judgemental people, because a personality is completely subjective. What one person finds annoying another person can find endearing. What one person finds weird, another finds funny. What one person finds romantic, another finds sickening. That's just life; everyone has their own Scale Of Like, and every person is different on every Scale.
I think I lost my point somewhere along this blog, because reading it back it looks like I'm saying "It's okay to judge people," which isn't my point at all. My point is that it's fine to not like people sometimes, because whatever it is that you don't like about them, someone else will love. And besides, not-liking someone isn't as simple as just not liking them. Or something.
(I was going to end it there, but then the ridiculousness of my current situation hit me and I thought I'd paint you a picture. A 17-year-old girl with last night's make-up smudged across her face, greasy-haired and wearing a dressing gown with her curtains closed at 12.30pm, writing a philosophical blog post only her friend's will read with a slightly iffy message, instead of revising for the exams that dictate the rest of her life. Ah, the youth of today.)
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
May 2011 In Films, Books and Music
This month has been stunningly productive. I've done one, two or three hours revision more or less everyday, seen my friends, slept (a bit) and still managed to watch as many films as usual, listen to many more albums and read more than twice as many books! I'm now feeling slightly inproportionately smug...
Films
Once again, there are more lengthy reviews of other films (plus much over-indulgent waffling) over on my other blog - http://filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com/ - but these are the films I didn't review fully, because I a) got back from the cinema too late, b) watched them at a friend's house or c) couldn't be bothered.
City Of Angels - I had heard of this film before, though it's not massively well-known, purely because the most famous hit by my favourite band ('Iris', by the Goo Goo Dolls) was the themesong, so I'd seen clips in the music video and done my standard bit of cyber-nerding (I don't think that's a real thing, but I like it. Can we make cyber-nerding a thing?). Anyway, I was quite enjoying the slightly over-the-top cheesiness and Edward-Cullen-esque stalking-is-love thing, up until the out of the blue, pointless, infuriating and film-ruining ending. At least you've been warned.
Atonement - this was the first time I'd watched this since seeing it at the cinema back in...er...2007? It has a special place in my heart in that I think it was the first film my best friend and I ever went to see together (the beginning of a long and beautiful tradition), but that sadly doesn't change the fact that it slowly loses it's awesomeness as it progresses. I LOVE the first forty-five minutes or so, find the next half hour quite interesting, am mildly entertained by the ensuing twenty minutes and pretty much bored by the rest. It's still essentially a good film, and there's a couple of really brilliant sequences, but it's too heavy to adore, and too long (and SLIGHTLY boring...) to watch often.
Water For Elephants - I was a little bit wary of seeing this, since my opinion of Robert Pattinson is somewhat in the lurch; I think he's very capable of being an excellent actor, yet he's in the Twilight films. It's hard to reconcile those two facts. Anyway, this was MUCH more like it. Romantic, entertaining, exciting, poignant, funny now and again, visually beautiful and capturing the period perfectly, I loved it. Also, this is the only time I can ever remember being surprised by the ending in a POSITIVE way....
Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides - I wrote a bit of a schmaltzy post about my opinion of the 'Pirates' franchise on my film blog, but that was before actually going to see the latest addition. I have to say, though I thought it was still missing something and it had - for me - a very different tone to the first few films, I still basically enjoyed it. Captain Jack Sparrow is, again, the brightest spark, Ian McShane was a brilliant baddie, the change of Geoffrey Rush's character angered me but was more or less fixed by the end, and Penelope Cruz was convincing in the obligatory 'feisty love-interest' part. Less good were the Orlando Bloom/Keira Knightley replacements; a mermaid with too few lines and a VERY handsome young actor (Sam Claflin) playing a holier-than-thou religious nut with some VERY dodgy lines and too few 'proper' scenes.
Music
Hey, I've actually listened to some new albums this month! Big shock, I know, but I conducted a mini-raid on my parent's massive CD shelves and found a bunch of gems (I'm spreading them over several months, so I can listen to them all properly), plus my friends spontaneously decided to lend me stuff.
Tim Minchin, 'And The Heritage Orchestra' - went to see this live at the beginning of the month and absolutely loved it. You have to get Tim Minchin's humour to love it, but I do and I did. Hysterical, intelligent and, to my surprise, actually better with the orchestra. Favourite tracks: 'Not Perfect', 'Cont', 'Rock N Roll Nerd' and 'The Fence'
Tori Amos, 'Scarlet's Walk' - this isn't really my kind of music, but one of my best friends has slightly odd taste in music and seems to think that if he exposes me to enough of it, I will one day come round to his way of thinking. And to be fair, I did actually like this album; it's not one I'd go nuts over and listen to relentlessly, but I definitely enjoyed it. I think that Tori Amos is one of those artists you (well, I) have to be in the mood for, but when you ARE in the mood, it makes lovely listening. Favourite tracks: 'Wednesday', 'Mrs Jesus' and 'Strange'.
The Beatles, '1' - I know it's shameful I didn't have any Beatles on my iPod up until now, but they're one of those bands my parents considered so ingrained in modern culture, I needn't be exposed to them in my childhood. Classic, fun, original and impossible to dislike. Favourite tracks: 'Help!', 'Paperback Writer', 'Yesterday' and 'I Want To Hold Your Hand'.
Fleetwood Mac, 'Say You Will' - Rumours is, in my opinion, one of the best albums ever made but - appallingly - it's not actually on my iPod. Up until this month, I didn't have ANY Fleetwood Mac on my iPod, which is also appalling since I've been listening to them since forever (my parents are fans) and I've also enjoyed their stuff. This is one of the later albums, which is less good, but it's still got a wicked beat and a song for every mood. Also, I want to marry Stevie Nicks's voice. Favourite tracks: 'Say You Will', 'Peacekeeper', 'Everybody Finds Out' and 'Goodbye Baby'.
Books
I have more than doubled my reading intake this month, and feel very smug about it. This is largely because the pile of Pre-University books beside my bed has actually started GROWING rather than shrinking, so something had to be done. Also, I've just found the majority of this month's books a real pleasure to read...
A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess - When I flicked through this book prior to reading it, my heart sank. About half of the words were complete nonsense, as far as I was concerned, and I didn't think it was going to make for the best bath-time reading...That said, I actually really enjoyed it. I didn't have a clue what the hell was happening for the first four or five chapters, but after a while it's surprising how well you get to understand the slang. The story itself was also really interesting in a 1984 kind of way; clever and intriguing, if slightly incomprehensible..
The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky - I wrote a long and gushy blog post about this wonderful, lovely book - see below :)
The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald - I'd tried to read this a few years ago and only made it a couple of chapters in, and, having now read the whole thing, I can see why I did that. The writing was absolutely beautiful; the kind of writing that sounds like poetry even though it's just description. The story was weird, because nothing at all happened for the first three-quarters of the book, then it ALL kicked off in the last fifty pages. To all intents and purposes though, a lovely book.
The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge - This is my best friend's favourite childhood book, so she'd waxed lyrical about it's beautiful loveliness and I was quite looking forward to it. And I did enjoy it. It was like Jane Austen had written a children's fantasy novel; very charming, delicate and daintily written. That said, it was much too twee for me. If I'd read it as a child, I would've loved it, but as a cynical 17-year-old I found it just a bit too schmaltzy.
Life Of Pi, by Yann Martel - this took a while to get going - for the first hundred or so pages it was about zoos and religion, which seemed an odd combination, amongst other things. However, once the story kicked in it became absolutely fascinating, and a story I've enjoyed far more than I was expecting to. Genuinely interesting, exceptionally original and very compelling.
Films
Once again, there are more lengthy reviews of other films (plus much over-indulgent waffling) over on my other blog - http://filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com/ - but these are the films I didn't review fully, because I a) got back from the cinema too late, b) watched them at a friend's house or c) couldn't be bothered.
City Of Angels - I had heard of this film before, though it's not massively well-known, purely because the most famous hit by my favourite band ('Iris', by the Goo Goo Dolls) was the themesong, so I'd seen clips in the music video and done my standard bit of cyber-nerding (I don't think that's a real thing, but I like it. Can we make cyber-nerding a thing?). Anyway, I was quite enjoying the slightly over-the-top cheesiness and Edward-Cullen-esque stalking-is-love thing, up until the out of the blue, pointless, infuriating and film-ruining ending. At least you've been warned.
Atonement - this was the first time I'd watched this since seeing it at the cinema back in...er...2007? It has a special place in my heart in that I think it was the first film my best friend and I ever went to see together (the beginning of a long and beautiful tradition), but that sadly doesn't change the fact that it slowly loses it's awesomeness as it progresses. I LOVE the first forty-five minutes or so, find the next half hour quite interesting, am mildly entertained by the ensuing twenty minutes and pretty much bored by the rest. It's still essentially a good film, and there's a couple of really brilliant sequences, but it's too heavy to adore, and too long (and SLIGHTLY boring...) to watch often.
Water For Elephants - I was a little bit wary of seeing this, since my opinion of Robert Pattinson is somewhat in the lurch; I think he's very capable of being an excellent actor, yet he's in the Twilight films. It's hard to reconcile those two facts. Anyway, this was MUCH more like it. Romantic, entertaining, exciting, poignant, funny now and again, visually beautiful and capturing the period perfectly, I loved it. Also, this is the only time I can ever remember being surprised by the ending in a POSITIVE way....
Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides - I wrote a bit of a schmaltzy post about my opinion of the 'Pirates' franchise on my film blog, but that was before actually going to see the latest addition. I have to say, though I thought it was still missing something and it had - for me - a very different tone to the first few films, I still basically enjoyed it. Captain Jack Sparrow is, again, the brightest spark, Ian McShane was a brilliant baddie, the change of Geoffrey Rush's character angered me but was more or less fixed by the end, and Penelope Cruz was convincing in the obligatory 'feisty love-interest' part. Less good were the Orlando Bloom/Keira Knightley replacements; a mermaid with too few lines and a VERY handsome young actor (Sam Claflin) playing a holier-than-thou religious nut with some VERY dodgy lines and too few 'proper' scenes.
Music
Hey, I've actually listened to some new albums this month! Big shock, I know, but I conducted a mini-raid on my parent's massive CD shelves and found a bunch of gems (I'm spreading them over several months, so I can listen to them all properly), plus my friends spontaneously decided to lend me stuff.
Tim Minchin, 'And The Heritage Orchestra' - went to see this live at the beginning of the month and absolutely loved it. You have to get Tim Minchin's humour to love it, but I do and I did. Hysterical, intelligent and, to my surprise, actually better with the orchestra. Favourite tracks: 'Not Perfect', 'Cont', 'Rock N Roll Nerd' and 'The Fence'
Tori Amos, 'Scarlet's Walk' - this isn't really my kind of music, but one of my best friends has slightly odd taste in music and seems to think that if he exposes me to enough of it, I will one day come round to his way of thinking. And to be fair, I did actually like this album; it's not one I'd go nuts over and listen to relentlessly, but I definitely enjoyed it. I think that Tori Amos is one of those artists you (well, I) have to be in the mood for, but when you ARE in the mood, it makes lovely listening. Favourite tracks: 'Wednesday', 'Mrs Jesus' and 'Strange'.
The Beatles, '1' - I know it's shameful I didn't have any Beatles on my iPod up until now, but they're one of those bands my parents considered so ingrained in modern culture, I needn't be exposed to them in my childhood. Classic, fun, original and impossible to dislike. Favourite tracks: 'Help!', 'Paperback Writer', 'Yesterday' and 'I Want To Hold Your Hand'.
Fleetwood Mac, 'Say You Will' - Rumours is, in my opinion, one of the best albums ever made but - appallingly - it's not actually on my iPod. Up until this month, I didn't have ANY Fleetwood Mac on my iPod, which is also appalling since I've been listening to them since forever (my parents are fans) and I've also enjoyed their stuff. This is one of the later albums, which is less good, but it's still got a wicked beat and a song for every mood. Also, I want to marry Stevie Nicks's voice. Favourite tracks: 'Say You Will', 'Peacekeeper', 'Everybody Finds Out' and 'Goodbye Baby'.
Books
I have more than doubled my reading intake this month, and feel very smug about it. This is largely because the pile of Pre-University books beside my bed has actually started GROWING rather than shrinking, so something had to be done. Also, I've just found the majority of this month's books a real pleasure to read...
A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess - When I flicked through this book prior to reading it, my heart sank. About half of the words were complete nonsense, as far as I was concerned, and I didn't think it was going to make for the best bath-time reading...That said, I actually really enjoyed it. I didn't have a clue what the hell was happening for the first four or five chapters, but after a while it's surprising how well you get to understand the slang. The story itself was also really interesting in a 1984 kind of way; clever and intriguing, if slightly incomprehensible..
The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky - I wrote a long and gushy blog post about this wonderful, lovely book - see below :)
The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald - I'd tried to read this a few years ago and only made it a couple of chapters in, and, having now read the whole thing, I can see why I did that. The writing was absolutely beautiful; the kind of writing that sounds like poetry even though it's just description. The story was weird, because nothing at all happened for the first three-quarters of the book, then it ALL kicked off in the last fifty pages. To all intents and purposes though, a lovely book.
The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge - This is my best friend's favourite childhood book, so she'd waxed lyrical about it's beautiful loveliness and I was quite looking forward to it. And I did enjoy it. It was like Jane Austen had written a children's fantasy novel; very charming, delicate and daintily written. That said, it was much too twee for me. If I'd read it as a child, I would've loved it, but as a cynical 17-year-old I found it just a bit too schmaltzy.
Life Of Pi, by Yann Martel - this took a while to get going - for the first hundred or so pages it was about zoos and religion, which seemed an odd combination, amongst other things. However, once the story kicked in it became absolutely fascinating, and a story I've enjoyed far more than I was expecting to. Genuinely interesting, exceptionally original and very compelling.
Sunday, 22 May 2011
David Tennant and Catherine Tate in 'Much Ado About Nothing'
So, yesterday I went to see my favourite Shakespeare play (Much Ado About Nothing) in the West End with my mum, my best friend and her family, and the friend I argue Literature with. It had David Tennant and Catherine Tate - my favourite Doctor Who pairing of all time - as the leads. It was arguably the funniest thing I've ever seen. Afterwards, we went to the stage door and I got Catherine Tate's autograph. And I wish I could be bothered to write a proper blog post about it but, to summarise: Shakespeare, funny, Tennant and Tate, autograph, bloody brilliant.
Thursday, 12 May 2011
The Perks Of Being A Wallflower
I couldn't decide whether to write this post on this blog, or my film blog, because it's kind of about a book, and kind of about the film of that book. However, the film of that book hasn't been made yet, so in the end I thought it would be more appropriate to write about it on this blog (also, I wrote on my film blog more recently...).
I finished reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower about three minutes ago, and it's the best book I've read in quite a long time. I usually like books, I occasionally don't like them, but it's rare for me to love one. But this book was different to anything I'd read before, because it was poignant and serious and funny and sweet, all at the same time. I'd heard about it months and months ago, but hadn't got round to reading it until having a conversation with my best friend's little sister (though I should really just call her my friend...or Next Nigella). I was telling her about this upcoming film with Logan Lerman and Emma Watson in that sounded interesting, and she was telling me about this book she'd read that was really good and sounded a lot like the film, and eventually we realised we were talking about the same thing.
Before I read the book, I was excited about the film because it had Logan Lerman in, and I have a bit of a crush on him (despite being several inches taller), the Wikipedia synopsis looked interesting and it was fuel to add to my dislike and complaining about Emma Watson. That sounds very bitchy, and I won't try to defend it because, frankly, it is bitchy, but sometimes teenage girls feel the need to bitch about people vastly better-looking, talented and richer than them in a poor effort to boost their own self-esteem. Anyway, I was complaining about how Emma Watson was ridiculously lucky to be getting to film in America with Logan Lerman and get paid a bomb for doing it and she wasn't really that good an actress etc etc etc. Bitchy stuff.
And having read and loved the book, I now have to alter that opinion. Whilst before I was waxing lyrical about how good Logan Lerman would be and how crap Emma Watson would be, I've changed my mind completely. I haven't done a complete turnaround, but now I have to say that I can't see Logan Lerman as this character, because the character seems to be the antithesis of my (admittedly very limited) knowledge of Logan Lerman, and every character I've seen him play bfore. I very much hope he'll do it well, and if he does he'll be cemented in my mind as a very good actor, as well as very pretty. And regarding Emma Watson, I don't think the character is quite right for her, either, but before I was hoping she'd be rubbish. That way I'd have grounds to bitch and complain about her without feeling like I was just being catty. But now, I really, truly, deeply and earnestly hope that she does a good job. Because this story deserves to be told well, and that character deserves to be played well.
So I am eagerly awaiting the film adaptation of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, and I really, really hope it delivers.
I finished reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower about three minutes ago, and it's the best book I've read in quite a long time. I usually like books, I occasionally don't like them, but it's rare for me to love one. But this book was different to anything I'd read before, because it was poignant and serious and funny and sweet, all at the same time. I'd heard about it months and months ago, but hadn't got round to reading it until having a conversation with my best friend's little sister (though I should really just call her my friend...or Next Nigella). I was telling her about this upcoming film with Logan Lerman and Emma Watson in that sounded interesting, and she was telling me about this book she'd read that was really good and sounded a lot like the film, and eventually we realised we were talking about the same thing.
Before I read the book, I was excited about the film because it had Logan Lerman in, and I have a bit of a crush on him (despite being several inches taller), the Wikipedia synopsis looked interesting and it was fuel to add to my dislike and complaining about Emma Watson. That sounds very bitchy, and I won't try to defend it because, frankly, it is bitchy, but sometimes teenage girls feel the need to bitch about people vastly better-looking, talented and richer than them in a poor effort to boost their own self-esteem. Anyway, I was complaining about how Emma Watson was ridiculously lucky to be getting to film in America with Logan Lerman and get paid a bomb for doing it and she wasn't really that good an actress etc etc etc. Bitchy stuff.
And having read and loved the book, I now have to alter that opinion. Whilst before I was waxing lyrical about how good Logan Lerman would be and how crap Emma Watson would be, I've changed my mind completely. I haven't done a complete turnaround, but now I have to say that I can't see Logan Lerman as this character, because the character seems to be the antithesis of my (admittedly very limited) knowledge of Logan Lerman, and every character I've seen him play bfore. I very much hope he'll do it well, and if he does he'll be cemented in my mind as a very good actor, as well as very pretty. And regarding Emma Watson, I don't think the character is quite right for her, either, but before I was hoping she'd be rubbish. That way I'd have grounds to bitch and complain about her without feeling like I was just being catty. But now, I really, truly, deeply and earnestly hope that she does a good job. Because this story deserves to be told well, and that character deserves to be played well.
So I am eagerly awaiting the film adaptation of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, and I really, really hope it delivers.
Friday, 6 May 2011
Experiment
I feel like conducting an experiment. As such, I would be highly appreciative if you - yes you, wonderful reader (did I mention how much I love that new thing you did with your...face) - would answer the following questions.
1. Do you (a) read this blog regularly or (b) happened to stumble upon it just now?
2. If (b) would you come back to it, or just find it mildly entertaining but not bothered enough to revisit?
3. Were you aware/have you seen any of my YouTube videos (link...somewhere in a previous post).
4. If the answer to 3. is yes, would you care if I made them even more irregular and barely ever updated? Because I just prefer to do things in writing...
If you actually comment on this, you're a beautiful person :)
If not, you're useless and I hate you.
(Just kidding. I probably wouldn't comment. But then, I'm rubbish.)
Also, I did some writing on a new story idea tonight! Yay for the death of Creative Block! Think this is possibly the most random and pointless blog I have ever posted...maybe.
(Probably not.)
1. Do you (a) read this blog regularly or (b) happened to stumble upon it just now?
2. If (b) would you come back to it, or just find it mildly entertaining but not bothered enough to revisit?
3. Were you aware/have you seen any of my YouTube videos (link...somewhere in a previous post).
4. If the answer to 3. is yes, would you care if I made them even more irregular and barely ever updated? Because I just prefer to do things in writing...
If you actually comment on this, you're a beautiful person :)
If not, you're useless and I hate you.
(Just kidding. I probably wouldn't comment. But then, I'm rubbish.)
Also, I did some writing on a new story idea tonight! Yay for the death of Creative Block! Think this is possibly the most random and pointless blog I have ever posted...maybe.
(Probably not.)
Saturday, 30 April 2011
April 2011 In Films, Books and Music
Technically there is still half an hour of April left, so I think this is valid, but I'm gonna have to type bloody fast.
Films
I now have a proper film blog, in which I write much lengthier reviews of films that I've watched as soon as I've watched them, but these are a couple that didn't make it on to that blog for tiredness reasons.
Killing Bono - Ben Barnes (Prince Caspian) and Robert Sheehan (Misfits' Nathan) playing Irish brothers. The premise was promising, long before I knew the plot. And I did enjoy it enough to see it twice at the cinema, but it wasn't quite as funny as I'd hoped. To be honest the best parts of it were Barnes's very convincing Irish accent, and Sheehan's flawless comic timing.
As Good As It Gets - I'm going to do a proper review of this on my film blog at some point, because it was one of the absolute best films I've seen in bloody ages. Witty, clever, original and genuinely romantic without being cliche-loaded and cheesy. An example of what movies should be.
Elizabeth - Even though I KNEW the story of Elizabeth I, therefore I KNEW what was going to happen and I KNEW that true stories very rarely end happily, I still found this ultimately depressing. Also, as a history student, there were a few teeth-clenching historical inaccuracies, but why let fact get in the way of a good story?
Music
Another rubbishy month music-wise, but my Amazon ban is now officially over, so let's hope things perk up for the spring...
Honestly, the only new music I've been listening to this month is a mixtape my friend Roz made me, which is basically all the songs she knows I like that I don't already own. She did a damn fine job, actually, with my personal favourites being: 'Friday I'm In Love' - The Cure, 'Just For Tonight' - One Night Only, 'Broken Strings' - James Morrison ft Nelly Furtado, 'Dream Catch Me' - Newton Faulkner and 'Californication' - Red Hot Chilli Peppers.
Books
I know I said I'd be listing more books as of April. I lied. In my defence, it started off well, but once I actually got into my 'Classics Kick', it slowed down for unprecedented reasons...
The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson - I was expecting to like this, but I was still shocked about how much I did. It's been ages since I've read a genuinely thrilling thriller, and this was brilliant, with a genuinely original heroine, an intriguing storyline and an edge-of-your-seat writing style. One thing I would complain about, though, is all the completely unnecessary detail the reader is given; we don't need to know which way Blomkvist walked into town, or which shops he went into and what he bought and what quanitities he purchased in. 'Blomkvist went shopping' would have sufficed.
The Catcher In The Rye, by J.D. Salinger - despite this being about a fifth of the size of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, it has so far taken me three times as long to read it. I know you shouldn't, but I was kind of expecting to be blown away by this book, because it's an inspiration for many of my favourite authors and people talk about it all the time. Thus I was very disappointed to find it - frankly - REALLY boring. Nothing actually happens. A whiny teenage boy wanders around New York, defying common sense. The end.
So there we go, a rushed, short, probably typo-ridden blog post that I'll almost certainly change completely when I read it back with an awake brain. But still; eleven minutes left to go. If I could high five myself right now, I totally would.
Films
I now have a proper film blog, in which I write much lengthier reviews of films that I've watched as soon as I've watched them, but these are a couple that didn't make it on to that blog for tiredness reasons.
Killing Bono - Ben Barnes (Prince Caspian) and Robert Sheehan (Misfits' Nathan) playing Irish brothers. The premise was promising, long before I knew the plot. And I did enjoy it enough to see it twice at the cinema, but it wasn't quite as funny as I'd hoped. To be honest the best parts of it were Barnes's very convincing Irish accent, and Sheehan's flawless comic timing.
As Good As It Gets - I'm going to do a proper review of this on my film blog at some point, because it was one of the absolute best films I've seen in bloody ages. Witty, clever, original and genuinely romantic without being cliche-loaded and cheesy. An example of what movies should be.
Elizabeth - Even though I KNEW the story of Elizabeth I, therefore I KNEW what was going to happen and I KNEW that true stories very rarely end happily, I still found this ultimately depressing. Also, as a history student, there were a few teeth-clenching historical inaccuracies, but why let fact get in the way of a good story?
Music
Another rubbishy month music-wise, but my Amazon ban is now officially over, so let's hope things perk up for the spring...
Honestly, the only new music I've been listening to this month is a mixtape my friend Roz made me, which is basically all the songs she knows I like that I don't already own. She did a damn fine job, actually, with my personal favourites being: 'Friday I'm In Love' - The Cure, 'Just For Tonight' - One Night Only, 'Broken Strings' - James Morrison ft Nelly Furtado, 'Dream Catch Me' - Newton Faulkner and 'Californication' - Red Hot Chilli Peppers.
Books
I know I said I'd be listing more books as of April. I lied. In my defence, it started off well, but once I actually got into my 'Classics Kick', it slowed down for unprecedented reasons...
The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson - I was expecting to like this, but I was still shocked about how much I did. It's been ages since I've read a genuinely thrilling thriller, and this was brilliant, with a genuinely original heroine, an intriguing storyline and an edge-of-your-seat writing style. One thing I would complain about, though, is all the completely unnecessary detail the reader is given; we don't need to know which way Blomkvist walked into town, or which shops he went into and what he bought and what quanitities he purchased in. 'Blomkvist went shopping' would have sufficed.
The Catcher In The Rye, by J.D. Salinger - despite this being about a fifth of the size of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, it has so far taken me three times as long to read it. I know you shouldn't, but I was kind of expecting to be blown away by this book, because it's an inspiration for many of my favourite authors and people talk about it all the time. Thus I was very disappointed to find it - frankly - REALLY boring. Nothing actually happens. A whiny teenage boy wanders around New York, defying common sense. The end.
So there we go, a rushed, short, probably typo-ridden blog post that I'll almost certainly change completely when I read it back with an awake brain. But still; eleven minutes left to go. If I could high five myself right now, I totally would.
Friday, 22 April 2011
Sometimes I Wish
Sometimes I wish I had something that was mine
That I didn't have to share with others all the time
I don't mean possessions, or anything physical
More like people and moments and things metaphysical
Sometimes I wish I had somewhere to go
A place just for me, for my thoughts to grow
Somewhere with no interruptions or noises
To escape to, to think, to make hard choices
Sometimes I wish I could escape from people
And I wonder if it would be more peaceful
I wouldn't want to stay away long
Just enough to feel, on return, I belonged
Sometimes I wish I had a fast forward button
To skip a day, or five, or a dozen
Those times when you feel like a nothing, a dot
A nameless being, filling a slot
Sometimes I wish I was a better person
Who whined less about having so light a burden
Someone who didn't worry about looking fat
Or being ignored, left out and laughed at
Sometimes I wish I didn't feel this way
That being happy and cheerful was the way I could stay
But life just isn't that simple, is it?
Everyone, sometimes, feels like a misfit
Sometimes I wish it wasn't so cliche
To write a poem in shades of grey
An ode to an ego that's so second-hand
Written for people who won't understand
That I didn't have to share with others all the time
I don't mean possessions, or anything physical
More like people and moments and things metaphysical
Sometimes I wish I had somewhere to go
A place just for me, for my thoughts to grow
Somewhere with no interruptions or noises
To escape to, to think, to make hard choices
Sometimes I wish I could escape from people
And I wonder if it would be more peaceful
I wouldn't want to stay away long
Just enough to feel, on return, I belonged
Sometimes I wish I had a fast forward button
To skip a day, or five, or a dozen
Those times when you feel like a nothing, a dot
A nameless being, filling a slot
Sometimes I wish I was a better person
Who whined less about having so light a burden
Someone who didn't worry about looking fat
Or being ignored, left out and laughed at
Sometimes I wish I didn't feel this way
That being happy and cheerful was the way I could stay
But life just isn't that simple, is it?
Everyone, sometimes, feels like a misfit
Sometimes I wish it wasn't so cliche
To write a poem in shades of grey
An ode to an ego that's so second-hand
Written for people who won't understand
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION!!!
Okay, so I've started this separate blog where I review/rant about/post general stuff about films, because I'm a geek and we do crap like that.
Here's the link: http://filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com/
Anticlimax? My bad... :P
(Also, think this is the shortest blog I have EVER posted...three cheers for my self-restraint. Or, you know, not. Whatever. Up to you. *cough*)
Here's the link: http://filmnerdsftw.blogspot.com/
Anticlimax? My bad... :P
(Also, think this is the shortest blog I have EVER posted...three cheers for my self-restraint. Or, you know, not. Whatever. Up to you. *cough*)
Friday, 8 April 2011
Two Challenges
I don't think I've ever given up anything for Lent before. I could make up some crappy moral excuse like 'I disagree with the commercialisation of religion', but the simple answer is that my willpower is, to put it mildly, limited. Every diet I've ever been on (and I'm pretty sure we're in the hundreds) has ended with a I've-had-a-bad-day-so-logically-these-calories-don't-count Bingefest. Aside from that, I never remembered Lent was happening until a couple of weeks have gone by, and I've never been able to think of anything I saw the point in giving up.
Anyway, this year my bank statement arrived the day before Lent started. It didn't look good. I mean it wasn't quite a lock-yourself-in-the-house-and-cry-for-a-week bank statement, but it was not pretty. It was obvious that I needed to curb my spending, and quickly. Then something occurred to me.
I could give up....no, don't be silly. But it would be feasible...no. I couldn't do it. But I kind of need to....yes. Yes, I would do it.
I would give up internet shopping. This was a big decision. I hate shopping in every physical form, but the kind where you type what you want into a search engine, click a button and have it arrive on your doorstep in 3-5 working days is my biggest vice. But I had no money, and I Lent started the next day, so I thought it through very carefully and eventually reached this conclusion - sod it.
And I've managed it. Admittedly, Lent isn't over yet, but there's only a couple of weeks left, and I think I'm out of the danger area. The inconvenience was that everybody decided to go and have their 18th birthday whilst I was banned from Amazon, Play.com, iTunes and all the other little buttons that cruelly teased me as I scrolled down my favourites list. I actually had to haul my ass into town for my best friend's present, I half-cheated by asking a friend to order my dad's and three quarters-cheated by ordering a Mother's Day prezzie with my dad's credit card (and his permission, can I add). So maybe my Lent sacrifice isn't pure as snow, but it's certainly pure as two-day-old-slush. I haven't bought any new books, CDs or films for over a month!
Which brings me neatly to Challenge Two. A week ago I was bored and took part in a BBC survey/quiz thing, the essence of which was 'Everyone should have read these hundred books, how many have you read?' And my answer was 31. And that was...well, it depends on your definition of 'read'. If your definition includes 'got two chapters in before giving up and never looking at again', then I'm on 31. Being as I intend to actually study English Literature at university in September, it was clear to me that something had to be done.
So I made two lists: 'The Book List', which is essentially books to read before I die, and there are 158 books, and counting. Then 'Books To Read Before University' list, which is actually a pile next to my bed (before you get all accusatory; I didn't buy any new books, I just raided Mum's bookshelf - she's a Lit graduate) and is taller than your average five-year-old. So hopefully the 'Book' section of my month-end review should be a bit more substantial from now on. And the books should be traditional, critically acclaimed, timeless masterpieces like Dante's Inferno, Heller's Catch-22, Waugh's Brideshead Revisited and Kerouac's On The Road, to name but a few. And 'The Jungle Book'. Just because.
Anyway, this year my bank statement arrived the day before Lent started. It didn't look good. I mean it wasn't quite a lock-yourself-in-the-house-and-cry-for-a-week bank statement, but it was not pretty. It was obvious that I needed to curb my spending, and quickly. Then something occurred to me.
I could give up....no, don't be silly. But it would be feasible...no. I couldn't do it. But I kind of need to....yes. Yes, I would do it.
I would give up internet shopping. This was a big decision. I hate shopping in every physical form, but the kind where you type what you want into a search engine, click a button and have it arrive on your doorstep in 3-5 working days is my biggest vice. But I had no money, and I Lent started the next day, so I thought it through very carefully and eventually reached this conclusion - sod it.
And I've managed it. Admittedly, Lent isn't over yet, but there's only a couple of weeks left, and I think I'm out of the danger area. The inconvenience was that everybody decided to go and have their 18th birthday whilst I was banned from Amazon, Play.com, iTunes and all the other little buttons that cruelly teased me as I scrolled down my favourites list. I actually had to haul my ass into town for my best friend's present, I half-cheated by asking a friend to order my dad's and three quarters-cheated by ordering a Mother's Day prezzie with my dad's credit card (and his permission, can I add). So maybe my Lent sacrifice isn't pure as snow, but it's certainly pure as two-day-old-slush. I haven't bought any new books, CDs or films for over a month!
Which brings me neatly to Challenge Two. A week ago I was bored and took part in a BBC survey/quiz thing, the essence of which was 'Everyone should have read these hundred books, how many have you read?' And my answer was 31. And that was...well, it depends on your definition of 'read'. If your definition includes 'got two chapters in before giving up and never looking at again', then I'm on 31. Being as I intend to actually study English Literature at university in September, it was clear to me that something had to be done.
So I made two lists: 'The Book List', which is essentially books to read before I die, and there are 158 books, and counting. Then 'Books To Read Before University' list, which is actually a pile next to my bed (before you get all accusatory; I didn't buy any new books, I just raided Mum's bookshelf - she's a Lit graduate) and is taller than your average five-year-old. So hopefully the 'Book' section of my month-end review should be a bit more substantial from now on. And the books should be traditional, critically acclaimed, timeless masterpieces like Dante's Inferno, Heller's Catch-22, Waugh's Brideshead Revisited and Kerouac's On The Road, to name but a few. And 'The Jungle Book'. Just because.
Monday, 4 April 2011
Philosophical Rambling
Have you ever had one of those friends who you know loves you, but you’re just not totally convinced that they love you as much as you love them? Sure, they ring you when they have a purpose, and they occasionally give you a spontaneous hug or randomly text you and say ‘Come over?’ They insist they’ll sit with you at that party tomorrow, and they link your arm on the walk home or tell you things hardly anyone else knows. They throw an arm over you at a sleepover, and they refer to you as a ‘best friend’ or say they’ve loved spending time with just you today.
But it’s a surprise. Not a big one, and not a bad one; just something pleasant that you didn’t expect.
Because you love them but you’ve come to expect frustration. When they say they’re going to come over and watch a film, you make sure you’re phone is in your pocket because you’re half-waiting for them to ring and cancel. You’re not angry or disappointed, and you weren’t convinced they were going to ditch you – it just would have been a ‘pleasant surprise’ if they hadn’t. They say they’ll come and sit with you in library because they don’t know anybody, but as soon as you spot someone you know is friends with them, you’re unsurprised when they wander off without a word. They comfort and cuddle you when you’re upset and crying, but you can never remember them telling you they were proud of you.
And none of these things affect your love for this friend. Occasionally you’ll be annoyed, or you’ll feel a bit ignored, a bit unimportant. But then they drop you a random text and you feel better again. You’re aware that insecurity over a friendship is not healthy, and you’ve already considered and dismissed the possibility that you actually fancy them (because just no).
So you just accept it the way it is. Sometimes they’ll disappoint you, sometimes they’ll infuriate you, sometimes they’ll make you feel worthless, sometimes they’ll single-handedly make your day, sometimes they’ll treat you so kindly you can’t believe you ever bore any negative emotion towards them, sometimes they’ll be the reason that night was one of the best nights of your life.
And you’ll continue stalking their Tumblr, because you know they post things on the internet they’d never say out loud. Even though you know they’ll probably never check your blog, though they know you have one, and read the most honest thing you ever wrote about them. You know that whenever you argue, you’ll be the one that comes crawling back. If they’re the wronged party then you’ll give it less than an hour before guilt and panic overcomes you, the possibility of losing them forever frightening you into calling them and making your grovelling apologies. And if you’re the wronged party, they’ll sit tight and wait for you to forgive them, unconsciously safe in the knowledge that you will forgive them – something you could never be quite sure of.
You know that it will always be that way. You’ll always feel like your friendship means more to you than them. But you’ll love them regardless, because you simply couldn’t do without them.
Have you ever had that?
Yeah, totally, me neither.
But it’s a surprise. Not a big one, and not a bad one; just something pleasant that you didn’t expect.
Because you love them but you’ve come to expect frustration. When they say they’re going to come over and watch a film, you make sure you’re phone is in your pocket because you’re half-waiting for them to ring and cancel. You’re not angry or disappointed, and you weren’t convinced they were going to ditch you – it just would have been a ‘pleasant surprise’ if they hadn’t. They say they’ll come and sit with you in library because they don’t know anybody, but as soon as you spot someone you know is friends with them, you’re unsurprised when they wander off without a word. They comfort and cuddle you when you’re upset and crying, but you can never remember them telling you they were proud of you.
And none of these things affect your love for this friend. Occasionally you’ll be annoyed, or you’ll feel a bit ignored, a bit unimportant. But then they drop you a random text and you feel better again. You’re aware that insecurity over a friendship is not healthy, and you’ve already considered and dismissed the possibility that you actually fancy them (because just no).
So you just accept it the way it is. Sometimes they’ll disappoint you, sometimes they’ll infuriate you, sometimes they’ll make you feel worthless, sometimes they’ll single-handedly make your day, sometimes they’ll treat you so kindly you can’t believe you ever bore any negative emotion towards them, sometimes they’ll be the reason that night was one of the best nights of your life.
And you’ll continue stalking their Tumblr, because you know they post things on the internet they’d never say out loud. Even though you know they’ll probably never check your blog, though they know you have one, and read the most honest thing you ever wrote about them. You know that whenever you argue, you’ll be the one that comes crawling back. If they’re the wronged party then you’ll give it less than an hour before guilt and panic overcomes you, the possibility of losing them forever frightening you into calling them and making your grovelling apologies. And if you’re the wronged party, they’ll sit tight and wait for you to forgive them, unconsciously safe in the knowledge that you will forgive them – something you could never be quite sure of.
You know that it will always be that way. You’ll always feel like your friendship means more to you than them. But you’ll love them regardless, because you simply couldn’t do without them.
Have you ever had that?
Yeah, totally, me neither.
Sunday, 3 April 2011
BEDA Fail and Further Cooking Cock-Ups
So I was going to do Blog Every Day in April, but then three things happened: -
1. On Friday I forgot it was April.
2. On Saturday I was not on a computer all day, through no fault of my own. 3. I realised I don't have enough followers for anyone to care, except me (and possibly Roz, who stalks me. And is also my best friend, but it's more relevant that she stalks me.)
In other news -- as it is Mother's Day, my dad decided that he, my brother and I would cook a three-course meal for Mum and Grandma to thank them for giving birth at various points in their lives. This seemed fair, so I tentatively agreed to cook dessert, figuring that I could get a friend who is the next Nigella to teach me how to be vaguely competent in the kitchen. I really didn't want to add this to the list of 'Things Becky Has Cooked That Went Horribly Wrong Due To One Small But Serious Balls-Up' (for full details see a blog I posted last January/February time on my many cooking mishaps). I decided, rather ambitiously, to go for a chocolate cheesecake.
Next Nigella, my best friend (who happens to be Next Nigella's sister) and I had a trial cake-bake, which all went relatively well. Then I bought all the ingredients, dug the relevant cooking implements out of the cupboard that I generally open only for the cheese grater and consulted the recipe. It all seemed to be going swimmingly, which made a nice change, and as I slid it into the over with a flourish I felt rather proud of myself. I was halfway out of the kitchen, and planning a smug text to various friends who determinedly mock my cooking disasters, when it suddenly dawned on me. My smile fell off my face instantly, I froze in horror and slowly turned to face the oven, dread written in my every feature - but it was too late. The damage could not be undone.
I'd forgotten to grease the tin.
1. On Friday I forgot it was April.
2. On Saturday I was not on a computer all day, through no fault of my own. 3. I realised I don't have enough followers for anyone to care, except me (and possibly Roz, who stalks me. And is also my best friend, but it's more relevant that she stalks me.)
In other news -- as it is Mother's Day, my dad decided that he, my brother and I would cook a three-course meal for Mum and Grandma to thank them for giving birth at various points in their lives. This seemed fair, so I tentatively agreed to cook dessert, figuring that I could get a friend who is the next Nigella to teach me how to be vaguely competent in the kitchen. I really didn't want to add this to the list of 'Things Becky Has Cooked That Went Horribly Wrong Due To One Small But Serious Balls-Up' (for full details see a blog I posted last January/February time on my many cooking mishaps). I decided, rather ambitiously, to go for a chocolate cheesecake.
Next Nigella, my best friend (who happens to be Next Nigella's sister) and I had a trial cake-bake, which all went relatively well. Then I bought all the ingredients, dug the relevant cooking implements out of the cupboard that I generally open only for the cheese grater and consulted the recipe. It all seemed to be going swimmingly, which made a nice change, and as I slid it into the over with a flourish I felt rather proud of myself. I was halfway out of the kitchen, and planning a smug text to various friends who determinedly mock my cooking disasters, when it suddenly dawned on me. My smile fell off my face instantly, I froze in horror and slowly turned to face the oven, dread written in my every feature - but it was too late. The damage could not be undone.
I'd forgotten to grease the tin.
Monday, 28 March 2011
March 2011 in Films, Books and Music
It's only looking back on this month that I realise how busy it's been. I thought it was going to be a bit dull, a bit lifeless and a bit too work-oriented, but it's actually been pretty hectic. I've hosted my first proper house party, watched one of my best friends rock the stage in a production of Les Miserables, passed my driving test, come one step closer to having a dream fulfilled, been through my third run-through of the TV God that is Firefly, attended a Masquerade Ball and spent FAR too much money. But, of course, I've still made time for the cinema, soundtracking my life and bathtime reading.
Films
Easy A - I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I am seasoned in the watching of trashy American high-school movies. Generally speaking they're simply mindless tat to sit through with the girls on ice-cream-and-wine nights before everybody starts crying about their love lives. There are a few exceptions to this - the geuinely witty films that you don't have to be a teenage girl to enjoy (examples include '10 Things I Hate About You' and 'Clueless'), and 'Easy A' is one of these. It hasn't escaped my notice that all three of these films are modern adaptations of old-fashioned stories ('10 Things...' is based on Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew, 'Clueless' on Austen's Emma and Easy A on The Scarlet Letter).
A Beautiful Mind - I was well prepared to rant about crappy endings when it came to this film. Renowned tearjerker, Oscar-winning, based on a true story, involving mental illness - all of these things usually result in lobotomies, early deaths and me getting through a pack of tissues (or four). This, however, took me by surprise, and was simply wonderful. Superbly acted (I love me a bit o' Paul Bettany) by all the leads, poignantly written and sensitively filmed. Brilliant film.
Invictus - not quite as groundbreaking and poignant as I was expecting, but still a cracking movie with a perfectly cast Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela. Matt Damon is always good value, and this film reinforced my belief that rugby is simply a better sport than football. The
Adjustment Bureau - took me most of the month to organise my friends into seeing this with me, but it was bloody worth it. Not at all what I was expecting (a vaguely political action/adventure/thriller), but more of a romantic drama with a sci-fi edge and some wicked acting from Emily Blunt and Matt Damon (who gets more and more fanciable with each film I see him in...).
Music
Tim Minchin 'Ready For This' - I have a habit of making abrupt about-turns with my opinions on certain matters. Basically I see/listen to/read a snippet of something and make an immediate negative judgement, then promptly forget it exists. Some months later I'll learn a bit more about whatever 'it' is, give it another chance and end up in love. Examples include the programme 'Misfits', the band Bon Jovi and the comedian Tim Minchin. I watched the DVD to this back in January, but this month a friend leant me the CD, and it's every bit as hysterical as I hoped it would be. Favourite tracks: 'The Good Book', 'Song For Phil Daost' and 'If I Didn't Have You'.
Songs To Listen To In The Rain (Mixtape) - my friend Lewis made a mixtape of 'sad songs' and a mixtape of 'happy songs' for myself and my best friend Roz, the theory being that since she's a perpetually happy person and I'm a generally angry one, we could listen to our own kinds of music, then swap. Lewis' taste in music leans heavily on the Kate Bush/Bjork/Tori Amos spectrum and is generally too weird for me, but this mixtape was yet another example of him taking me by surprise. Favourite tracks: 'The Sound of Silence' - Simon and Garfunkel, 'Obsessions' - Marina and the Diamonds, 'Bully' - Lissie and 'Turning Tables' - Adele.
Blue Skies 'Blue Skies Covers' - another YouTube musician, but these were songs I downloaded for free (legally, I might add) because he covered several of my all-time favourites, he's rather beautiful and I gave up internet shopping for Lent, so I had to improvise. Bearing in mind I usually hate covers of my favourites, Blue Skies did a superb job of acoustifying (not technically a word, but sounds authentic...) some classics. Favourite tracks: 'I Will Follow You Into The Dark' (originally Deathcab For Cutie), 'Iris' (originally Goo Goo Dolls) and 'Land's End' (originally Patrick Wolf).
Books
An Abundance of Katherines, John Green - I read this in about a day right at the beginning of the month, so I don't remember many specifics, but it was wonderful. Simply wonderful. Possibly my favourite John Green novel - though it's the least talked about - largely because it had the least bittersweet ending, but also because I found Lindsey, the female protagonist in this, much easier to relate to than Looking For Alaska's Alaska, or Paper Town's Margo.
The Rachel Papers, Martin Amis - leant to me by my posh friend, Oliver. Witty, well-written but deeply weird, hard to get through and with a thoroughly dislikeable protagonist. I'm interested enough to get to the end, but probably wouldn't recommend it and won't read it again.
(I had to have about six goes at the layout of this post -- for some inexpicable reason my losing streak with technology decided to flare up and it just refused to publish properly, so sorry. *sigh*. I tried.)
Saturday, 19 March 2011
Most. Exciting. Thing. Ever.
Right, there's a little bit of backstory needed before I reach the climax of excitement here (no innuendo intended...), so bear with me before the FULL OVERREACTION FREAKOUT happens.
Between the ages of 13 and 15, I wrote a fantasy trilogy, which (at 16) I sent off to numerous agencies and eventually received a letter from an agent saying that whilst my story didn't grab her, my writing style did. I met with this lady, and during the lunch it became apparent (to me, if not my mum) that what this agent wanted from me was girly teenage fiction. You can see her point - the marketable factors would have been irresistable (girly teenage troubles written by a teenage girl etc etc) - but I hate reading that kind of crap, nevermind writing it, and I made no secret of this. That being the case, she politely explained that maybe I should try writing 'something else'. Which I did.
I spent my 16th year writing another novel; more original, more mature and (hopefully) more sellable (a word? maybe...I'm not convinced). I sent this back to the same agent, got - this time - a fairly resounding 'no' and started sending it off again. By now I was 17, didn't have time to start a new writing project properly (A-Levels, social life, occasional bit of sleeping etc) and becoming increasingly disillusioned with the whole publishing industry. Seriously. You know how angry you get when someone less skilled beats you at the thing you're best at (be it a sport, creative talent, career opportunity or whatever); imagine how infuriated I used to get on reading those unbelievably popular books (mentioning no specific vampir- sorry, I meant examples) that I knew I could have written - or indeed, anyone could have written.
So about a month ago, I received my eighteenth rejection. Yep. Eighteenth. And I thought, 'maybe I should finally take this as a hint', and I very nearly gave up. There's no real reason why I didn't give up. I just opened my drawer, saw that I still had a couple of copies to send and thought 'sod it, it's not like I'm still liable to burst into tears at every rejection'. And I am practiced at this, now. You spend an hour researching the agent, package up a letter, a synopsis and the first three chapters, nip down to the post office, send it off and do your best to forget about it for six weeks (apart from the daily spasm when the post arrives).
And so last night, I checked my email for the sixth or seventh time that day (I'm waiting for university offers, agency replies and YouTube notifications. Six or seven is pretty restrained; twenty is standard), and saw that I had a reply from an agent. I heaved a heavy sigh. Eight months on, I'd grown pretty used to glazing over the words 'thank you for your submission...very interesting...unfortunately we don't think it's quite right for us...' or some variant thereof.
So I opened the email and let my eyes skim over the typically short message. 'Thank you for your submission...great potential...send your full typescript...'
Wait, what?
I'll admit, that was the point at which my heart started trying to beat it's way out of my ribcage. I forced myself to take a deep breath, look carefully, read it word-for-word (and then another eight or so times, for clarification). 'We have received you submission and feel it has great potential so would like to see more material. Could you submit the full typescript to us, preferably by post.' I stared blankly at the computer screen for about a minute. Then I leapt up, half-jumped across my bedroom floor, tried to yank open the door (nearly fell out of it) and sprinted down the stairs screaming "MUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMM!!!"
And to be honest, this isn't a guarantee, or anything approaching one. This agency hasn't offered to represent me. To put it in more understandable terms, it's like sending your CV out to a bunch of companies and - at long last - getting an interview. The chances of getting the job are still slim but I have, finally, after months - years, really - of failed attempts, I've finally jumped that first hurdle. For the first time in years, I've received some encouragement, after months and months of failures. And it feels bloody brilliant.
Between the ages of 13 and 15, I wrote a fantasy trilogy, which (at 16) I sent off to numerous agencies and eventually received a letter from an agent saying that whilst my story didn't grab her, my writing style did. I met with this lady, and during the lunch it became apparent (to me, if not my mum) that what this agent wanted from me was girly teenage fiction. You can see her point - the marketable factors would have been irresistable (girly teenage troubles written by a teenage girl etc etc) - but I hate reading that kind of crap, nevermind writing it, and I made no secret of this. That being the case, she politely explained that maybe I should try writing 'something else'. Which I did.
I spent my 16th year writing another novel; more original, more mature and (hopefully) more sellable (a word? maybe...I'm not convinced). I sent this back to the same agent, got - this time - a fairly resounding 'no' and started sending it off again. By now I was 17, didn't have time to start a new writing project properly (A-Levels, social life, occasional bit of sleeping etc) and becoming increasingly disillusioned with the whole publishing industry. Seriously. You know how angry you get when someone less skilled beats you at the thing you're best at (be it a sport, creative talent, career opportunity or whatever); imagine how infuriated I used to get on reading those unbelievably popular books (mentioning no specific vampir- sorry, I meant examples) that I knew I could have written - or indeed, anyone could have written.
So about a month ago, I received my eighteenth rejection. Yep. Eighteenth. And I thought, 'maybe I should finally take this as a hint', and I very nearly gave up. There's no real reason why I didn't give up. I just opened my drawer, saw that I still had a couple of copies to send and thought 'sod it, it's not like I'm still liable to burst into tears at every rejection'. And I am practiced at this, now. You spend an hour researching the agent, package up a letter, a synopsis and the first three chapters, nip down to the post office, send it off and do your best to forget about it for six weeks (apart from the daily spasm when the post arrives).
And so last night, I checked my email for the sixth or seventh time that day (I'm waiting for university offers, agency replies and YouTube notifications. Six or seven is pretty restrained; twenty is standard), and saw that I had a reply from an agent. I heaved a heavy sigh. Eight months on, I'd grown pretty used to glazing over the words 'thank you for your submission...very interesting...unfortunately we don't think it's quite right for us...' or some variant thereof.
So I opened the email and let my eyes skim over the typically short message. 'Thank you for your submission...great potential...send your full typescript...'
Wait, what?
I'll admit, that was the point at which my heart started trying to beat it's way out of my ribcage. I forced myself to take a deep breath, look carefully, read it word-for-word (and then another eight or so times, for clarification). 'We have received you submission and feel it has great potential so would like to see more material. Could you submit the full typescript to us, preferably by post.' I stared blankly at the computer screen for about a minute. Then I leapt up, half-jumped across my bedroom floor, tried to yank open the door (nearly fell out of it) and sprinted down the stairs screaming "MUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMM!!!"
And to be honest, this isn't a guarantee, or anything approaching one. This agency hasn't offered to represent me. To put it in more understandable terms, it's like sending your CV out to a bunch of companies and - at long last - getting an interview. The chances of getting the job are still slim but I have, finally, after months - years, really - of failed attempts, I've finally jumped that first hurdle. For the first time in years, I've received some encouragement, after months and months of failures. And it feels bloody brilliant.
Friday, 18 March 2011
Love and Loss
Another serious one, I'm afraid. Yesterday, one of my best friends lost their Grandmother, and I didn't know how to reach out to her in a sensitive, subtle way: face-to-face risks tears, phone risks tears, letters are a bit corny and facebook/email seems slightly tacky, so I'm going for a blog post, mainly because it's the only other outlet I could think of.
I've always felt an affinity towards Amy with regards to our grandparents, because both of us had grandmas cursed with dementia. Dementia is one of those diseases that has no cure, no treatment and no real understanding, and as such it's one of the scariest prospects I think it's possible to be faced with. It's almost impossible to get through it with dignity, it must be terrifying to know it's happening to you, and it's immensely painful for the ones around you that love you. The only real way to get through a loved one's dementia, I think, is to find what humour you can and treat it as lightly as is possible. That might sound crass, but to be honest, when you've been asked for the eighth time in five minutes what day it is, your options are to laugh or to cry, and bearing in mind how frequently these situations occur, I would always go for laughter.
Amy always handled her grandma's illness with humour, grace, good spirits and as little bitterness as it's possible to feel. I've always admired her for that. But one of the worst things about dementia - worst, almost, than your Nan forgetting who you are, accidentally dropping forgotten cigarettes on the carpet and being too scared to even visit the doctor's - is the feeling left behind when they have gone. Because of course you feel grief, loss, emptiness, but at the same time there is an undeniable but shameful streak of relief. Admitting to it will inevitably make you feel guilty beyond compare, but there's no point in lying: when a loved one has reached the stage where they are no longer safe to be left alone, when everything they cared for has either been taken from them or forgotten and when their family's every waking thought is haunted by the worries and concerns dementia brings, death feels like a kind of escape.
And if Amy does feel that way, I hope she knows that it's understandable, forgivable and completely ordinary. Dementia is a horrible disease to live with, and if passing away is the only way of providing freedom from it, I think most people would take it.
Amy's been one of my closest friends for years now, and I know her well enough to be aware that her concern will be for her Mum, not herself, and I know that there are three things that are always there and will get her through this. Her family, her music, and her friends. And I know that she knows it will be alright; it always is, in the end.
Friday, 11 March 2011
My Second Home
As mentioned in previous posts, I am currently undergoing the riot of fun and excitement that is University applications. This being the case, I wanted to revisit my top choices for Unis to make sure I had the right choices for first and insurance in mind. If you aren't aware of the British University system, it's unnecessarily complicated, but the basics are that you apply to five universities and if (in an ideal world) they all accept you, you pick two -- a first choice, where you really want to go, and an insurance choice, where you'll go if you don't get the grades for your first choice. I decided on my first choice many months ago, and a visit day last month simply reconfirmed that it is the place I want to be. Having said that, on Wednesday I was up in Lancaster - theoretically my insurance choice - to have another poke around the Uni, take a shifty at the course and just generally gauge the atmosphere of the place. And whilst I really enjoyed the open day, what the trip really did was reignite my love of Lancashire.
Lancashire is kind of a second home to me -- though I was born in Yorkshire and raised in Derbyshire, my mum is Lancastrian, and my Grandma lived there up until a couple of years ago, meaning that it's where I spent most of my half terms throughout my childhood. Because we don't visit it as often anymore, I always forget how much I love it, and how at home I feel there. I know my mum feels similarly -- though she hasn't lived in Lancashire for nearly twenty years, she always relaxes back into it (her accent slips a bit too -- 'tour' ends up being pronounced 'too-ur' rather than 'tor' and 'look' gets elongated into a proper 'oooo' sound).
Anyway, on the way home we needed to stop somewhere for tea, and my mum chose a pub that used to be her 'local', before I was born. The pub was something that's become increasingly rare in England -- it still had that old-world, wooden-beams and open-fireplace feel, but it wasn't full of chavvy football hooligans knocking pints down to their apparently indestructible livers. Largely it was occupied by friendly old codgers -- the kind of men who wear tweed and smoke pipes and say 'aye' a lot.
But it's not just the regulars -- everybody there just has so much time for you, and it would be weird for you to have left a pub without talking to a stranger. My mum once told me how shocked she was the first time she got on a London tube, because nobody was speaking to each other. They just sat there, heads down, noses in books, phones out and warily keeping themselves to themselves. Even in my own experience of trains around South Yorkshire/North Derbyshire, it's not unusual to end up chatting on a train but it's not a given either. But in Lancashire, it would have been a weird train journey if the old lady on your left hadn't discussed her sister's best friend's hip replacement.
And it makes you feel so welcome. At every pub I've ever been to at home it's been an stick-to-your-own kind arrangement, but not in Lancashire. As soon as I walked in, the barman came over, leant over my shoulder and talked me through the deals on offer tonight - whilst we were eating he came back about six times to check we were okay, and asked if we were regulars, where were we from, what were we up for, had I liked the University. Granted, my mum thinks he was flirting with me, but I sure as hell wasn't complaining...
But even then, we got chatting to two waitresses, somebody else who'd been to the open day, a couple of the old regulars and a remarkably drunk woman who repeatedly told my mum how young she looked (Mother Dearest wasn't complaining, either). All over one meal, in one night, at one pub. I've never encountered another place where that happens, and it never fails to make me feel at home. And it doesn't matter wherever I end up in the world, I know I'll never not love Lancashire.
Lancashire is kind of a second home to me -- though I was born in Yorkshire and raised in Derbyshire, my mum is Lancastrian, and my Grandma lived there up until a couple of years ago, meaning that it's where I spent most of my half terms throughout my childhood. Because we don't visit it as often anymore, I always forget how much I love it, and how at home I feel there. I know my mum feels similarly -- though she hasn't lived in Lancashire for nearly twenty years, she always relaxes back into it (her accent slips a bit too -- 'tour' ends up being pronounced 'too-ur' rather than 'tor' and 'look' gets elongated into a proper 'oooo' sound).
Anyway, on the way home we needed to stop somewhere for tea, and my mum chose a pub that used to be her 'local', before I was born. The pub was something that's become increasingly rare in England -- it still had that old-world, wooden-beams and open-fireplace feel, but it wasn't full of chavvy football hooligans knocking pints down to their apparently indestructible livers. Largely it was occupied by friendly old codgers -- the kind of men who wear tweed and smoke pipes and say 'aye' a lot.
But it's not just the regulars -- everybody there just has so much time for you, and it would be weird for you to have left a pub without talking to a stranger. My mum once told me how shocked she was the first time she got on a London tube, because nobody was speaking to each other. They just sat there, heads down, noses in books, phones out and warily keeping themselves to themselves. Even in my own experience of trains around South Yorkshire/North Derbyshire, it's not unusual to end up chatting on a train but it's not a given either. But in Lancashire, it would have been a weird train journey if the old lady on your left hadn't discussed her sister's best friend's hip replacement.
And it makes you feel so welcome. At every pub I've ever been to at home it's been an stick-to-your-own kind arrangement, but not in Lancashire. As soon as I walked in, the barman came over, leant over my shoulder and talked me through the deals on offer tonight - whilst we were eating he came back about six times to check we were okay, and asked if we were regulars, where were we from, what were we up for, had I liked the University. Granted, my mum thinks he was flirting with me, but I sure as hell wasn't complaining...
But even then, we got chatting to two waitresses, somebody else who'd been to the open day, a couple of the old regulars and a remarkably drunk woman who repeatedly told my mum how young she looked (Mother Dearest wasn't complaining, either). All over one meal, in one night, at one pub. I've never encountered another place where that happens, and it never fails to make me feel at home. And it doesn't matter wherever I end up in the world, I know I'll never not love Lancashire.
Monday, 7 March 2011
50th Post!
This is another one of those, I've-just-finished-today's-jobs-and-now-don't-know-what-to-do-oh-I'll-write-a-random-blog blogs. Yes, that did make sense. Rest of this post might not though; I've just written 1,500 words worth of drivel about the Spanish Church in the 16th century, I'm listening to Hugh Grant singing and my first attempt at typing the word 'century' came out 'cvrntiati', so I think it's safe to say that my mind isn't quite on full throttle right now.
It's very weird to think that this is my fiftieth blog post...even though I've been at this blog post for what I THINK is nearly 18 months now, fifty random scraps of writing seems like a hell of a lot...if you've read all fifty, congratulations (and get some friends), if you've read two or three, you should waste your life and read the other fifty, if you've never read any then.....you can't be reading this. Well, that's awkward.
Anyway I'm not gonna ramble on because I want to drool over Jake Gyllenhaal in 'Prince of Persia' as soon as possible, so this was just a quick note to say - if you are reading - thanks. :)
(Now don't you think you should go and tell all of your friends about my wonderfully witty, ever-so eloquent and irreverently intelligent waffling? Mm? Off you go then...)
It's very weird to think that this is my fiftieth blog post...even though I've been at this blog post for what I THINK is nearly 18 months now, fifty random scraps of writing seems like a hell of a lot...if you've read all fifty, congratulations (and get some friends), if you've read two or three, you should waste your life and read the other fifty, if you've never read any then.....you can't be reading this. Well, that's awkward.
Anyway I'm not gonna ramble on because I want to drool over Jake Gyllenhaal in 'Prince of Persia' as soon as possible, so this was just a quick note to say - if you are reading - thanks. :)
(Now don't you think you should go and tell all of your friends about my wonderfully witty, ever-so eloquent and irreverently intelligent waffling? Mm? Off you go then...)
Monday, 28 February 2011
February 2011 in Films, Books and Music
You can probably assess how much work I’ve done in a month, purely from reading these end-of-month-review blogs. If there were a lot of books and music and not many films, that would mean I’d done quite a lot – I listen to music whilst I’m working and wind-down after intense essay sessions with a good book. If there are a shedload of films and one book, that pretty much means I spent the month bunking off at the cinema. And February 2011? Well, see for yourself...
Films
1. Tangled - I'm a bit of a Disney fangirl. Thought I'd warn you straight off the mark. I REALLY enjoyed this. I mean, people will judge those like me who get a real kick out of cliche lines, predictable plots and spontaneous musical numbers, but I left that cinema with a smile splitting my face, so figure out for yourself whether or not I care.
2. Hereafter - zzzzzzzzzz, sorry what? I think I was expecting too much of this, but of the three storylines that kind of bumped clumsily together at the end, I was only actually interested in one. And in that one, a character behaved so unforgivably stupidly that I lost interest in that too. Not a BAD film, just a dull one.
3. Cherrybomb - obviously this wasn't at the cinema, but I'm going through a bit of a Robert Sheehan-stalking episode, and I'd already watched both series of Misfits, back-to-back. Oh yeah. I'm cool. Anyway, the ending of this kind of annoyed me, but I did enjoy it - could have done with a few more laughs, but ultimately a good, fast-paced, gripping film.
4. True Grit - it's Oscar season, so as a film buff I had to give this a shot, and was shocked how much I enjoyed it. I had absolutely no idea what the hell Jeff Bridges was saying throughout (he was going for 'drunken cowboy' and hit the mark at 'whaaaaaaaaaa??'), but Matt Damon is usually good value and the little girl - Hailee Steinfeld - was genuinely extraordinary. She was the highlight of the whole film for me, and one to watch for the future....
5. True Grit - contrary to what I'm sure you're thinking, I did not accidentally type this twice. After seeing the new one at the cinema, my dad (who's a hardcore John Wayne fangirl) insisted I watch the original. It was alright actually; films made before the 70s do tend to get on my nerves, but this was good - though I have to say that the general standard of acting has risen markedly in the past forty years or so. Curiously, the character that made the new version great nearly ruined the original - Kim Darby made Mattie Ross a shrill, girly, hyper-irritating and thoroughly grit-less character, which kind of stamped on the whole point of the film...
6. Paul - Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are one of those duos whom I usually take with a pinch of salt. They strike the occasional hilarity chord, but I can generally take them or leave them. But this was great. Much, much funnier than I had expected, and if I ever meet and alien, I will be crushed if it does not sound like Seth Rogen.
Music
1. Gavin DeGraw - 'Free' - this was leant to me by a friend, and it was quite good. Not an extraordinary album, but one of those with a couple of doozies and a couple of gems. Worth a listen, certainly. Favourite tracks: 'Dancing Shoes', 'Stay' and 'Lover Be Strong'.
2. Glee - 'The Music, vol. 1' - I know, I know. You can be forgiven for judging me. In my defence, I actually bought this album as a present for a friend, but it was in my bag during the great Coke Spill of '10, so I had to buy her a clean copy and kept this one. I have to say though, think what you like about Glee - they have done some pretty awesome covers. Hoenstly. Favourite tracks: 'Take A Bow', 'Somebody To Love' and 'Defying Gravity'.
3. Kate Rusby - 'Make The Light' - I said you'd be hearing more about this lovely lady from me, and it does not end here - I'm going to see her live in August, so you have been warned. Anyway, this is (I THINK) her most recent album, and compiled of more original than covered work, and I loved it. Not as good as Awkward Annie, but still a superb album that I'll be listening to for years to come. Favourite tracks: 'The Wishing Wife', 'Only Hope' and 'Shout To The Devil'.
Books
1. Paper Towns - John Green - see the last-but-one post for full details on the pure awesomeness that is this book.
2. Looking For Alaska - John Green - whenever I've read an extraordinary book, I'm always very hesitant before reading anything else from that author, because I always expect it to disappoint. Especially as this was written before Paper Towns, and deals with more depressing subject matter, to say I was dubious is putting it mildly. And whilst it wasn't as good as Paper Towns, I did really enjoy it, and thus have no qualms whatsoever about buying and reading John Green's third book - An Abundance of Katherines.
3. Collected Poems - W.H. Auden - I never used to be much of a poetry person, but a friend bought me a 'Collected Works' for Christmas and, of all the mini-books in it, Auden is by far and away my favourite (with the possible exception of John Keats). We've all heard 'Funeral Blues', but that isn't even close to Auden's best work, so seriously -- give it a shot. This guy is amazing.
Films
1. Tangled - I'm a bit of a Disney fangirl. Thought I'd warn you straight off the mark. I REALLY enjoyed this. I mean, people will judge those like me who get a real kick out of cliche lines, predictable plots and spontaneous musical numbers, but I left that cinema with a smile splitting my face, so figure out for yourself whether or not I care.
2. Hereafter - zzzzzzzzzz, sorry what? I think I was expecting too much of this, but of the three storylines that kind of bumped clumsily together at the end, I was only actually interested in one. And in that one, a character behaved so unforgivably stupidly that I lost interest in that too. Not a BAD film, just a dull one.
3. Cherrybomb - obviously this wasn't at the cinema, but I'm going through a bit of a Robert Sheehan-stalking episode, and I'd already watched both series of Misfits, back-to-back. Oh yeah. I'm cool. Anyway, the ending of this kind of annoyed me, but I did enjoy it - could have done with a few more laughs, but ultimately a good, fast-paced, gripping film.
4. True Grit - it's Oscar season, so as a film buff I had to give this a shot, and was shocked how much I enjoyed it. I had absolutely no idea what the hell Jeff Bridges was saying throughout (he was going for 'drunken cowboy' and hit the mark at 'whaaaaaaaaaa??'), but Matt Damon is usually good value and the little girl - Hailee Steinfeld - was genuinely extraordinary. She was the highlight of the whole film for me, and one to watch for the future....
5. True Grit - contrary to what I'm sure you're thinking, I did not accidentally type this twice. After seeing the new one at the cinema, my dad (who's a hardcore John Wayne fangirl) insisted I watch the original. It was alright actually; films made before the 70s do tend to get on my nerves, but this was good - though I have to say that the general standard of acting has risen markedly in the past forty years or so. Curiously, the character that made the new version great nearly ruined the original - Kim Darby made Mattie Ross a shrill, girly, hyper-irritating and thoroughly grit-less character, which kind of stamped on the whole point of the film...
6. Paul - Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are one of those duos whom I usually take with a pinch of salt. They strike the occasional hilarity chord, but I can generally take them or leave them. But this was great. Much, much funnier than I had expected, and if I ever meet and alien, I will be crushed if it does not sound like Seth Rogen.
Music
1. Gavin DeGraw - 'Free' - this was leant to me by a friend, and it was quite good. Not an extraordinary album, but one of those with a couple of doozies and a couple of gems. Worth a listen, certainly. Favourite tracks: 'Dancing Shoes', 'Stay' and 'Lover Be Strong'.
2. Glee - 'The Music, vol. 1' - I know, I know. You can be forgiven for judging me. In my defence, I actually bought this album as a present for a friend, but it was in my bag during the great Coke Spill of '10, so I had to buy her a clean copy and kept this one. I have to say though, think what you like about Glee - they have done some pretty awesome covers. Hoenstly. Favourite tracks: 'Take A Bow', 'Somebody To Love' and 'Defying Gravity'.
3. Kate Rusby - 'Make The Light' - I said you'd be hearing more about this lovely lady from me, and it does not end here - I'm going to see her live in August, so you have been warned. Anyway, this is (I THINK) her most recent album, and compiled of more original than covered work, and I loved it. Not as good as Awkward Annie, but still a superb album that I'll be listening to for years to come. Favourite tracks: 'The Wishing Wife', 'Only Hope' and 'Shout To The Devil'.
Books
1. Paper Towns - John Green - see the last-but-one post for full details on the pure awesomeness that is this book.
2. Looking For Alaska - John Green - whenever I've read an extraordinary book, I'm always very hesitant before reading anything else from that author, because I always expect it to disappoint. Especially as this was written before Paper Towns, and deals with more depressing subject matter, to say I was dubious is putting it mildly. And whilst it wasn't as good as Paper Towns, I did really enjoy it, and thus have no qualms whatsoever about buying and reading John Green's third book - An Abundance of Katherines.
3. Collected Poems - W.H. Auden - I never used to be much of a poetry person, but a friend bought me a 'Collected Works' for Christmas and, of all the mini-books in it, Auden is by far and away my favourite (with the possible exception of John Keats). We've all heard 'Funeral Blues', but that isn't even close to Auden's best work, so seriously -- give it a shot. This guy is amazing.
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