Cue the Violins

If your life were a movie, what would its soundtrack be like? What songs, instrumental pieces, and other sound effects would be featured on the official soundtrack album? Via The Daily Post (21st November 2014)

tumblr_naa2ac3rpn1r2x63jo1_500If my life had a soundtrack, I hope it would be make me feel exactly like Pitch Perfect‘s does. You know, good.

I’m all about feeling good and being stirred. I love an anthem. I like to listen to songs that make me imagine myself in certain scenarios. A dance off in the aisle of the night bus with twenty strangers, for example.

Showing an old (and beautiful) ex-boyfriend how amazing life has been without him. The high school reunion I couldn’t bear to attend in real life. Am the only person who does this?

Don’t expect anything too high brow from the Soundtrack of my Life. You would get some Shaggy, ‘Superfreak‘ by Rick James, a bit of Prince (because who can stay still when Prince is up?). You’d get Alanis Morissette because ‘Jagged Little Pill‘ was amazing.

You’d get the very best of The Cure, epecially ‘Close to You‘. Depeche Mode’s ‘Strange Love (Blind Mix)‘ would swing by and hold hands with The Smiths.

There is a Light That Never Goes Out‘ is my favourite and would therefore play whenever I gazed upon my true love. ‘Milkshake‘ would be my personal theme tune whenever I entered the frame. Or maybe I would prefer ‘Edge of Seventeen‘?

A bit of ‘Faith‘. A lot of Spice Girls. ‘Express Yourself‘ by Madonna. ‘What It Feels Like For a Girl‘ too.

How is it even possible to choose what 12 songs? My life would have to be a trilogy, at least, just to fit it all in.

What about you?

In other news, it’s the weekend before my birthday and I’m heading back ‘home’ tonight. It’ll be very family heavy and that’s exactly what I want and need this year.

Call me a sentimental old fool if you like, but I want good company and quality time rather than drunken debauchery or, more likely, self-loathing because I’m no longer young.

Happy Friday all!

Second Hand Stories

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What’s the best story someone else has recently told you (in person, preferably)? Share it with us, and feel free to embellish — that’s how good stories become great, after all. Via The Daily Post Daily Prompt (2nd November 2014)

I stumbled across this prompt a couple of weeks ago and loved it. I have so far not been able to find the motivation to write it though. Perhaps today is the day.

My best friend, Panda and I laugh about my favourite story a lot and I don’t know why it tickles us so much. Yes, it’s about Tom Hanks, who we love more than we love our own families (not really, we love him like family) but it’s also quite dark and very sad.

NB: I should state here that I didn’t hear this in person recently, it was several years ago and found by accident online. I can’t for the life of me remember where or who or why I ended up with this information but the important thing is that I did.

Wanna hear it?

My story goes like this. Tom Hanks was killed in the 9/11 terrorist attack back in 2001. He was, for some reason, in one of the towers when it came down.

Once discovered by the ‘Powers That Be’ who run Hollywood, but miraculously nobody else in the world, a meeting was held (I’m embellishing now) in a plush office at an undisclosed location somewhere in California. Earl Grey and pink donuts were served.

The PTB were so concerned that the movie industry would never recover from such a tragic and gargantuan loss that they decided that nobody else could ever know (bar the Hanks family, one presumes).

Instead, they would create a hologram of The King of Hollywood, who would continue to make movies, television appearances, produce in name as normal and even appear on the red carpet; as if nothing had happened.

Unfortunately, it was leaked and recorded on the web, thus taking its place as my very favourite conspiracy theory of all time. Even better than the one about Whitney Houston being sacrificed so Blue Ivy could exist (a soul for a soul, bitches). God, I have issues.

The thing is, I look now and I can’t find the original source. I mention it to people and they’ve never heard it. So did I imagine my own conspiracy theory? And if I did, what on earth does that say about me?

Or… am I the only other person in the world to have accidentally read this story in the few seconds it took for the ninjas to crash through the roof of the culprit’s condo and rip it out of existence forever?

Personally, I think the fact that this story has been removed from The Internet is suspicious in itself. Therefore, clearly true.

I love Tom more than anything, so of course I would prefer my Hanks alive and kicking, however did you ever hear such a fantastic tale? I never have since.

And, lest you think my internet digging was fruitless, I have to say here that if you type into Google ‘Tom Hanks Conspiracy Theory’, you will find some absolute gems.

The theory that Tom Hanks has never existed because ALIENS is sheer perfection.

Thoughts?

Naked

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Frankly I felt the cover needed just one addition

This week Kim Kardashian West attempted to #breaktheinternet with the release of some rather grand photographs of her butt.

Shot by Jean-Paul Goude for Paper magazine, the cover (right) pays homage to her famous derriere. Dig a little deeper (as if you’re not interested) and you will witness Kiki ‘re-imagining’ Goude’s best known image “Caroline Beaumont, New York, 1976“.

The Internet seems to still be in tact, just about, but what of all the minds blown by the photographs themselves? People are amused, shocked, disgusted, outraged, curious, excited and royally pissed off by the images.

Kimmy has been the butt (pun intended) of many jokey tributes (including some frankly creepy/unflattering ones) and criticised all over the shop for being a bad feminist, a bad mother and yet again a talent-less, plastic nobody. So far I believe she has turned the other cheek (!!) and I hope that she continues to do so.

NB: Kim did tweet this following release of the pictures:

Who says she isn't self-aware?

Who says she isn’t self-aware?

What has all those knickers in a twist really, though? Is it the nudity, or the apparent Photoshopping? Is it the ‘pointlessness’ of it all? Or is it just that it’s Kim having the audacity to celebrate how bloody hot she is?

I know it’s a broad topic and one that has so many arguments but this post is really about butt appreciation from my point of view, so I shall take it from here, guys.

(And a bit of KK appreciation, if I’m honest. Another Proud Pleasure).

Click on image to enlarge

Click on image to enlarge

Kimmy, in general, to me is something special. I know where she began, what she has done (who doesn’t? She’s kindly documented almost every aspect of her life for us). I know that technically she doesn’t have a ‘talent’ (singer/baker/candlestick maker), but what if her talent is having a work ethic that would make a mere mortal weep?

What if her super power is having the ability to continually pick herself up, dust herself off and turn all her mistakes into gold? Those are talents I can get behind.

I like Kim, love Keeping Up with The Kardashians and I like Kim’s body too. She looks sensational almost all the time and she’s banging, dammit.

I’m not into body shaming, all bodies types are fine with me and I appreciate the female form as much as the next person. I love seeing curvy women celebrating their curvaceousness as much as I like seeing svelte women representing my favourite designers on the catwalk.

Personally, I don’t have anything against the use of thin women to promote anything as long as there is a visible alternative. How heavenly it would be to see those alternatives in the mainstream, and not just as an afterthought. But that’s a whole other topic for another time.

I’m voluptuous and trying to be proud of that. I’m unlikely to ever be quite as banging as Mrs West (shocker), but as a short woman with a small waist and a big old booty, she is closer to my body type any day than the Keira Knightleys of this world (love her). So why not be happy to see that in all its glory? I sure as shit am!

In another shot within Kim’s issue of Paper, we get to see her full frontal. No, I don’t really see the big deal. It’s just a pair of (great) boobs and very smooth private parts (a fitting tribute to the work of her waxer). She is young and looks amazing. Her pose is playful and proud, not even particularly sexual.

Cheeky ;p

Cheeky ;p

But she’s a mother, say some? Heaven forbid that she teach North to be proud of her body as she grows up. That would be awful. North will see these images one day and you know what? By then Kim will have had the talk with her that explains some of the decisions that she made, that have made her who she is today.

Trust me, North is going to have a more complex time wrapping her head around the cult of celebrity, reality television, Daddy Kanye and the Kardashian Family en masse. Nakedness and an infamous bum are going to be the least of it.

Yes, this is a simplistic view. Yes, the photographs look heavily Photoshopped, thus giving us mere mortals yet another unrealistic ideal to aim toward. We’ve long known that pretty much every cover, every photograph we see in fashion magazines has had the same work. It’s part and parcel of the fashion industry and will hopefully change one day.

Had Kim stood up there in all her natural, oiled goodness with her butt at an angle to emphasise its ripeness would she still have got it in the neck?

But, of course.

Thoughts? Can you add to this conversation?

None of the photographs within this post belong to me.

My Week Filtered

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This week has been a good one with many highlights. Here are a few of them, from Left to Right, Top to Bottom:

  1. It was pissing down at 9am yesterday but by lunch it looked like this: I like to call this image ‘Narnia after the thaw’. Despite the title of this post #nofilter
  2. The prettiest tree I have ever seen, right in time for the upcoming Christmas period #nofilter
  3. Short classic red nails. This may not seem like a big deal to anybody else but this week I cut my very long nails down to this length and I think they can stay! It feels so fresh, modern and practical
  4. #obsessed 
  5. What’s a lunchtime stroll around the cemetery without a dorky #selfie?
  6. This is one of the coolest charity shop finds I’ve ever unearthed. Love Miranda July, and I bloody love the British Heart Foundation! Saturdays are for the Open Market and charity shop rummaging (except today as I think I may have food poisoning from some dodgy chicken last night)
  7. This happened! I love it so much, it feels like a sexy secret tattoo that in the end only Glynn and I will ever see. My friend Ella has just started tattooing and she’s ace. She does dotwork and it’s so delicate and beautiful. It could become a big problem for my tattoo addiction… #never
  8. This also happened and I adore it! I’ve wanted a paper fortune teller like the ones I made as a kid for a long time, and this is perfect. Also by Ella
  9. Anyone who follows me on Instagram knows I’m a bit of a sucker for graffiti. I don’t know quite why this appeals so much, but I like it a lot #brightongraffiti

Happy weekend all!

Stories: the One With the Internet Date

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Way more glamorous than our first flat in Brighton…

Back in the early noughties, back when I was still fresh, single and somewhat naive, my friends and I found a delightful source of entertainment called Love@Lycos.

It was the sister site of Lycos.co.uk the search engine and was solely designed for dating, hooking up and lurve.

Set up so you had your own page (sort of like Facebook looked when it first began), you had a visible bio, pictures if you were feeling brave and you could chat to your heart’s content, either privately or publicly (as I recall). Nothing that innovative thinking back but it was user friendly and like, the funnest thing ever!

Now, dating apps are ten a penny and people meet people everyday with no qualms at all. Which is great. But then, to us at least, this new gateway through which we could fearlessly talk to boys (or in my OBFF‘s case, chicks), was wondrous and exciting – we were obsessed.

The three of us, OBFF, B and I would all go to work as normal, Love@Lycos chat all day on the sly, then reconvene in the evenings to compare notes.

During this period in time I wasn’t all that experienced, had had just the one ‘boyfriend’ and a small series of silly liaisons. In fact, I recall (and this may make another full Stories post) having just been dumped by text when we moved to Brighton from our hometown. Text!

So I was snogging boys like crazy, from work and the like, but was definitely looking for love by now (hey, I’ve always been a romantic). Hence pinning my secret hope on the love part of Love@Lycos.

Alas it was not meant to be. I don’t remember any of the boys I talked to now except one, and only because he takes his place on my Map of Life as the Only Boy I Have Ever Met From The Internet/First & Last Blind Date. Which is pretty significant, I feel.

NB: I am using the term ‘boy’ and ‘boys’ throughout this post because that’s what they were then. And I definitely didn’t feel like a woman yet either.cat-gemma-correll-haha-illustration-internet-Favim.com-144975

Looking back I can’t believe I was so brave when it comes to meeting RunsWithScissors. He just seemed to be attuned to my sense of humour and seemed to like WondyWoman as much as she liked him (Wondy was my alias).

He ran a website that seemed sarcastic and bright, lived in London and was willing to come to Brighton for the day, I believe he had a sister here. So all systems were go after a few months of back and forth.

Our chatter was not sexual or particularly flirty (that I remember), so perhaps this is where the balls came from to go and meet him IRL. I don’t know.

All I know is that, one Saturday night, I somehow made it to Palace Pier by way of the corner shop, where I stopped to buy a tiny mini-bar sized bottle of Cointreau. As the sickly cough medicine kick of the orange liquid hit the back of my throat, I started to calm down. And with every step I felt better.

When I saw him, I was delighted. I can’t say how he felt when I rocked up, but he didn’t run away or stand me up so it felt positive enough. There was no attraction at all on either side though.

I should point out here that we hadn’t seen each other’s real photographs. This was a blind meet. Almost unheard of now!

He was very good-looking. Dark, piercing blue eyes with great chiseled bone structure. He was also charming and funny and exactly what it had said on the tin.

We spent all night laughing in the Hop Poles and then he came back to mine. When it came time for bed, I leaned in close and whispered minxily: “You can have my bed if you like, I’ll sleep on the sofa…”

And he let me! In the morning, we woke up early, had a cup of tea and then I drove him to his sister’s house.

No kiss, no romance, just a good fun night.

We stayed in touch for a little while longer, but like lots of things around this time, it fizzled out. I’m sure he did, and I hope he has had a lovely life as he was a lovely guy.

What I learned: This may have come around the same time I started to realise you could have male friends that you didn’t kiss. Sounds stupid now, but I used to look at every boy I saw as a potential love interest and that didn’t always make for a good time for either party.

Meeting and getting on well with, but not shagging/snogging the arse off every male I met (or imagining it, more likely) was a new and fruitful discovery. As soon as I got my head around this phenomenon, my life got infinitely better and easier.

So it was a good lesson and a good experience. I haven’t met anybody else off the internet since, except my husband, but I don’t count that as we had already met in the flesh. The Internet facilitated our long distance relationship, but it was not born of it.

I’m all for internet dating. It looks so fun and I love hearing stories about it. My friend recently signed up to Tinder and although, like most things, there is obviously a dark side to it, she finds it hilarious.

Do you have internet dating experience? What are your thoughts?

Proud Pleasures Part 1: In Praise of Miss Swift

I don’t believe in guilty pleasures, I believe in Proud Pleasures.Taylor-Swift-1989-Deluxe-2014-1200x1200-615562

If I like something, even if it’s just a Shaggy record from 1998, why not admit it? I don’t care what the cool kids think. When all is said and done, I know who I am and who I am has horrific taste in music and LOVES pop.

Candy striped, sickly sweet pop music that gives you toothache.

Which leads me effortlessly into my love for Taylor Swift. I know she’s in the press a lot, that everyone loves her for her autobiographical songs and her full skirts. I like these things about her too but if I’m honest, I’m mainly in it for the Muzak. That girl can make a damn good tune.

Music is not my first love (film is) and although I do of course listen to and enjoy it, I’ve never really got into the Indie albums my friends love. I don’t know the latest bands or who’s the best performer at a live gig. I’ve never been a festival goer and I don’t spend my money on concerts.

Maybe I am musically stunted, I’m know there is a whole aural universe out there just kicking it’s heels waiting for me, yet I’m stuck here on Planet Pop – and I’m okay with that.

So Taylor, I like you. I really like you. Red was fantastic with strong songs in I Knew You Were Trouble and We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and 1989 – 1989 is a perfect slice of steaming hot pop pie! Not a foot wrong as far as I’m concerned.

(Vintage looking Polaroids included with the physical CD? Genius!)

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I love you more than PSLs

I’m in love with Welcome to New York, Blank Space, All You Had to Do Was Stay, Bad Blood and Shake It Off, it’s hard to pick favourites on an album, as my friend Lightle says, full of tens.

As for my personal feelings about Tay, she seems okay. Nice enough. I assume the saccharine girl persona is just that, and that there is probably more to her than we know but she’s obviously self-aware and I like that. Anyone who can poke fun at themselves is A-OK by me.

So, in closing, I want to hark back to my favourite T. Swift era: the Dawn of the Woolly Hat and Jake Gyllenhaal in coffee shops Swifty. I wish he had never pissed her off and that they had stayed together. Sure, we wouldn’t have WANEGBT but we would have Jaylor Swyllenhaal!

I’ll get my coat now.

Incidentally, this is the first in a series of regular posts I am going to call Proud Pleasures.

Update: AND How You Get The Girl and New Romantics. So good. So so good!