Monday, 30 January 2012
Sunday, 29 January 2012
"I need films where the girl DOESN'T get the guy, I need an un-happy ending. Hit me with some classics, guys." was the tweet I sent earlier today. Much like a lonely hearts ad, it summed me up completely; I needed something to remind me that I'm human - because if it's happened in a film, it's happened in reality. I received the suspected replies: '500 Days of Summer', 'My Best Friend's Wedding', 'Casablanca'...the list goes on. Every single reply was an option because I just needed something that would transport me from reality to fantasy in seconds, yet still allow me to experience what exactly was happening in my life at the very moment. I didn't want to watch a love story; I wasn't in the mood to watch Sandra Bullock kiss Keanu Reeves having escaped a burning bus in 'Speed', I couldn't put myself through watching Carrie search for apartments with Mr Big in 'Sex and the City' and I most definitely couldn't spend 2 hours watching Emma and Dex fall in love in my ultimate favourite movie, 'One Day'. Nope, I needed harsh reality and I needed to know that just like her character in 'My Best Friend's Wedding', Julia Roberts had somehow felt exactly what I was feeling. Regardless of whether she's acting for a film, I needed to know she had spent days with panda eyes, curled up in bed, regretting past actions and/or words...which brings me to 'Closer'.
When one of my best friend's replied to that tweet, I knew she'd hit me back with an amazing film which would sum up exactly how I was feeling. And I was right, because she suggested the film that has just left me speechless and not just because the naughty C word (I can't type it, but it rhymes with hunt) is mentioned twice. I've heard amazing reviews on this beauty of a film, I'm a big fan of the soundtrack and I definitely do fancy Clive Owen and Jude Law so I should have known it would have been perfect from the start.
"If you believe in love at first sight, you never stop looking." is the tagline. In other words, if love is only an accident, if intimacy is merely a lie we tell ourselves, desire never reaching below the surface, if truth is only self-beneficial honesty is simply self-serving, how on Earth are we supposed to allow ourselves to be loved, to be known and to know and love another human being? 'Closer' focuses on portraying 'modern relationships' - whatever they maybe. It shows the rocky turbulence a relationship inevitably experiences and the harsh reality of personal flaws. It states, in the simplest form, what I've always known: people use love as an excuse to act like a naughty C word. They headfuck others for their own pleasure and then blame their actions on kindness, honesty and love. It's a cruel realisation and one that I would have only been willing to accept coming from Julia Roberts and Clive Owen.
The definition of love is a personal definition, I believe. Nobody has any right to tell you what 'love' actually is because we all experience an individual meaning of the word. For me, love is somebody supporting my ambitions and dreams, somebody who will hold my hair back when I'm being sick and play me Beatles songs on a guitar when I'm sad. 'Closer' tells us that love is not an accident, a stranger, a game, a mis-truth but in fact, it is a feeling that never ends. It's more than a reaction to meeting a perfect stranger for the first time, it's more than kind gestures, honesty and words. Love is what leaves us wanting more.
I asked for a film that wasn't about the normal 'girl meets boy, boy loves girl, girl and boy get married' storyline. I wanted a gritty, harsh, realistic film that would tell me "you know what? Not everything is alright. Love, or what we perceive to be love, will hurt you and it will leave scars that won't ever fade, but it doesn't matter because for a while, you were happy and you were experiencing something."
'Closer' spoke those very words.
When things get a bit crappy, I tend to run away to London for a little while, or at least until my head feels a fraction clearer. I spend days catching up with friends, having fun, watching weird films (I seriously wouldn't watch 'The Loved Ones' alone), running around different parts of London and usually, drinking an awful lot of alcohol because that's just what I do. However, this time around, I decided to shake things up a little. Not only should I probably learn to face my problems head on rather than run away from them but it's also a lot cheaper to stay in my little town.
So I did what any normal-ish person does when they need to clear their head and I went and got absolutely obliterated. I grabbed one of my best pals, Tania, took my entire make-up collection to her house and insisted that she work her magic and make this possible:
I'm a big fan of PROPER nights out: pre-drinks, hitting pubs, bars AND clubs, going to an unethical fried chicken/kebab takeaway joint at 4am and eventually befriending the taxi driver who's (un)lucky enough to be taking us home. However, with £7 each a big night out was going to be impossible for Tania and myself. Did that stop us? No way. "Fuck it, we'll walk home, who needs a taxi?"
We hit town, already quite drunk, made a necessary toilet/re-doing make-up stop and then decided to hit as many bars as we could. And that's exactly what we did. We smashed every single place we entered, we spoke to strangers, we drank Snakebites, smoked cigarettes and had a laugh. We bumped into lovely people, completely forgot our social boundaries and were soon discussing oral sex with a complete stranger. Despite having a lot to say on the matter, I don't usually discuss that sort of thing with strangers which made it even better. We were talking absolute bollox, drunk of our faces and had one goal in mind: to have fun.
At the beginning of the night, we made a pact that we'd forget the rules for that night. We'd blow off steam, act inappropriately, quit being sensible, send messages/texts and make calls that we'd regret in the morning and best of all, we wouldn't care. It was exactly what we both needed, a night of being literally so carefree nothing mattered except what we drinking and we weren't fussy. It's safe to say that most of the night is one huge blur for me, but I do remember stealing a Swedish chap's fried chicken and running away. HIGHLIGHT.
Anyway, besides ranting about getting absolutely off my trolley last night (I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR!...I do), this blog was supposed to have a point. I've rambled because my hangover is in control of my brain today and I can't stop it. Booooooo.
While I'm slightly regretting the amount of alcohol I consumed last night because my head feels like it's been sat on by a Sumo wrestler, I'm not regretting the night in general. It was perfect and just what I needed.
I kissed people I shouldn't have kissed, I drank drinks I shouldn't have drank and I stumbled home at about 3am, leaving drunken voicemails to my best friends. I feel a lot better, despite the hangover, and I've proved to myself that I don't need to run away to a different county to fix my head up. I just need a good night out.
Friday, 27 January 2012
I've never been the type of girl to spend hours crying over a boy because he didn't text me back, I've never doodled names over my notebook (except John Lennon's) and the idea of committing myself to one person for the rest of my life has always petrified me...actually, the idea of committing myself to one person for more than one night is enough to bring me out in a rash.
If I think back, there's never been a time in my life where it's been so obvious that I'm heartbroken, but truth be told I've done really uncool things to get to spend even 20 minutes with the person I fancied at the age of 15, because I was that desperate to spend time with him, I've befriended alcohol in an attempt to forget about a break-up and I've even spent an entire night, downloading, and listening to The Smiths Ultimate Collection - which is serious dedication to heartbreak.
Heartbreak is horrible; it causes us to devour bars of chocolate without stopping for breath, flirt with the ugly guy at the bar just for an ego boost and drink a litre of vodka only to then throw it up over an unsuspecting taxi driver. However, for me, what's even worse than heartbreak is the notion of unrequited love. Loving somebody who has no idea that you even exist or even worse, loving somebody who knows you exist but has no idea of how you feel.
Before actually thinking about it, I wouldn't have said I've ever experienced unrequited love. But, we all have really. It might not have been a first hand experience but we've all seen the damage this type of love can cause. For example, in 'Love Actually', the character of Mark is in love with Juliet (played by Keira Knightley) who is married to Mark's best friend, Peter. We see Mark turn up on Juliet's doorstep, confess his undying love for her and then walk away. He gets the pain, the longing and most of all the wasted time, which unrequited love is all about. The same can be said for 'My Best Friend's Wedding' where we see Julia Robert's character chase after Dermot Mulroney character who is actually chasing after Cameron Diaz's character.
All very complicated but after all, films help us prepare for the real world, so on a personal note to Julia Roberts, because she obviously reads my blogs all the time: thanks for setting me up for what has turned out to be the most distressing situation my heart has ever experienced; you're a doll.
I believe that admitting you're suffering from a bad case of unrequited love is the first step to getting over it. It's not pleasant but it is necessary if you want any chance at all of moving on. So here I am, admitting that I'm completely infatuated with somebody, and while their actions may say otherwise, they insist they don't feel the same. What an ego boost that was...
Although I'm obviously a bit annoyed with the outcome of the situation, I'm left wondering what do I do now?
I can go to London, party really hard, spend an awful lot of time crying (partly because of a hangover and partly because NOBODY LOVES ME) and eventually drink myself into such an emotional stupor that some poor guy takes pity on me and offers to take me back to his to show me a good time. What he doesn't know is that the 'good time' he's got planned will probably consist of me crying into the toilet bowl, after throwing up everything I've ever eaten, and moaning about the lack of affection I'm receiving from the person I want it from the most. Way to kill a mood.
I can address the situation head on, be mature and ask the person what exactly they want from me now; are we expected to be friends when I quite clearly want something else or do we just pretend that the past however many years we've spent as 'friends' (we have a very complicated history, which doesn't help) mean nothing and move on, say goodbye and end it at that?
Although the latter is definitely the one I'd like to be able to choose, I'm afraid the idea of flirting (crying) with a complete stranger and drinking obscene amounts of tequila is actually more appealing right now.
Now, I've seen Sex and the City and I'm pretty open about the fact that I wish I was more like Samantha: carefree, fun loving and always in control. I'd love for my mini breakdown to involve me turning into this ballsy, feisty character who insists that men buy the drinks AND the hotel room for after the Cosmopolitans. After dedicating a night to research just how she would deal with my situation, it's safe to say I'm pretty certain she'd take the "if you want to get over someone, you must get under somebody else" motto. Instead of crying into a bottle of wine, listening to The Smiths and Adele, complaining about how shit it really is that the feelings you feel for somebody else aren't mutual, go out there and find somebody who cares enough to ask your name and what your favourite sexual position is. Have fun. Have free and meaningless (safe) sex until you forget the name, age, address and favourite band of the person you were so wrapped up with. And finally, don't regret a single moment.
I like this idea. Or, at least I like the idea of this idea...
When I tweeted about whether that approach was the best approach to getting over somebody, so many people - women especially - replied saying "NO!! Do not start another issue until you resolve the last one!"
I guess they don't feel the same way about Samantha Jones as I do. I asked good friends, ex boyfriends/people I've had 'things' with, parents of friends and even complete strangers what their approach would be and nearly everybody said the same thing: you need 'me' time.
My pal Hannah gave me AMAZING advice. A whole 4 paragraphs on why I shouldn't take the above approach and why I should be grateful that the feelings I felt weren't mutual, because my heart has just been saved from a lot of future pain. Even though I may not realise it now, if this person had lied to me and said they felt the same, in a couple of months when they realised I wasn't what they wanted, I'd be even more hurt than I am now.
Carrie replied saying that 'me time' was vital, else you'll never learn from the previous and therefore you wouldn't grow for the future. Besides treating everything this chick says as gospel, I can't help but think she's speaking sense.
While I'd LOVE to be able to say that I'm fine, that I'm not hurting at all and I feel just super, I think the whole notion of "getting under somebody else" would make it impossible for me to move on. I wouldn't learn from my mistakes because I'd just be making fresher ones. Although Mark from 'Love Actually' and Julia Robert's character in 'My Best Friend's Wedding' both probably felt like they needed to go and get absolutely trollied after being rejected, they didn't. Well I don't think they did, but for the sake of this blog post, let's just pretend they didn't. Do you want to know the reason why they didn't? Of course you do, because I'm completely winging this, hoping that Richard Curtis will phone me the minute this has been published and aske me to pen a 'Love Actually 2'. The reason why it's not sensible to jump into the bed of any willing person the day after you've just been told it's never going to happen with the person you considered to be the love of your life is that although the orgasm might be brilliant, in the morning your mental state will be the complete opposite to that.
You need to give yourself time, closure and distance from the person your heart's in such a mess over. There isn't a limit on how much of these things you need because you'll know in your heart when the time is right. Be thankful that things never worked out because that person clearly wasn't meant for you. You'll find the one who deserves your heart eventually.
As for me, I'm going to post this on Facebook/Twitter and hope that it helps at least one person save their heart from that little bit of pain. While I don't know exactly how I'm supposed to deal with my situation, I do know that I'm ready to listen to The Smiths some more and get intimate with a glass (or 5) of wine. In the meantime, one can always find comfort in knowing that Adele has felt exactly the same:
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
There comes a time in your life where realisation will, no doubt, come along, slap you in the face, down your drink and then flirt with the person you're with. It's eye opening, shocking yet quite liberating at the same time. Sometimes, in order to see what's directly in front of you, you need to take a step back and stare it straight in the eyes, grab it by the balls and fuck whatever you're meant to be realising right up.
Fuck it up as best you can.
Quit paying rent for 2 houses, stop splitting your time between different towns, sort your life out in one place before you move on to the next and don't think problems disappear over night. They don't. Address situations as they happen, don't let them strengthen because nobody, except Superwoman, is Superwoman.
While it seems quite daunting to 'free' yourself from everything chaining you down, it's thrilling to discover you actually have wings. And yes, you can use them.
"Let's just jump on a train, me and you, get out of here...let's go anywhere, it doesn't matter where we are, as long as we're together. Who cares about money and clothes, it's all about new memories, new places and new people. All we need is each other. Say the words and we'll go."
I'm a free spirit, I can't be in one place for too long and I certainly can't be tied to one person for more than one night. Some people could argue and say that I'm a commitment-phobe but I don't agree. I want to experience as much of this beautiful thing we call life as I possibly can. If that means travelling around the world until I've tasted every single ice-cream flavour or hitch-hiking through Europe to find out whether it's French men or Italian men that give the best oral sex, if that's all considered life experience then I'll throw myself at it as hard as I can.
The idea of being tied to one person scares me, it actually petrifies me. That monster in my stomach that usually only comes out when I haven't eaten rears it's ugly head at the idea of commitment and I just know it's not for me right now. That's not to say in 2, 5, 10 years time, I'll feel exactly the same, 'cause I bloody hope not, but at this current moment in time, I'm more than happy with being a free bird. I've just discovered I have wings, why would I want to stop myself from spreading them and learning to fly?
Monday, 23 January 2012
I interviewed this chap (plus another lovely fella who is also part of the band, named Matt) last week. He's in a band called BeingBuffalo who are now one of my favourite bands. Just thought I'd share some of the genius music BeingBuffalo make and if you get a chance - CHECK THEM OUT.
(I'll post up the interview as soon as I have it written, promise) xxx
Friday, 20 January 2012
When I'm asked where I live and I reply with "Eastbourne...most of the time.", I can guarantee that most of the people who have asked will reply with something 'witty', like "what, God's waiting room?" or "isn't that full of old people though?" and while I'd be a fool to attempt to argue with these people, because a) yes, that is what my town is known for and b) I see no issue with old people running my town because I quite like drinking tea and playing bingo.
What does annoy me though, besides these people being completely right, is that Eastbourne's 'good' points are completely overlooked by these 2 sweeping questions.
We have a GORGEOUS beach, amazing views and while the pier doesn't live up to the standards of Brighton's pier, it is lovely to walk around.
'Angus, Thongs & Perfect Snogging' and 'Brighton Rock' (the remake) have both been filmed here, the promenade has seen many a TV camera (Little Britain was filmed here, YEAH!) and this tiny little town has even featured in a music video...ok, it was Sam and Mark's (the Pop Idol finalists) music video, but STILL, that's a feature...
We have one of the cleanest beach's in the UK, Eddie Izzard studied here and the Travelodge advert even shows a sneaky peak of Eastbourne's seafront.
I've never been a big fan of this seaside town, I've always preferred big cities and the hustle and bustle of London town BUT after spending the majority of my night sat, freezing my bum off, on the beach drinking hot chocolate and getting all deep and meaningful with my buddies, it's hard to hate it. The sea makes everything else seem so insignificant and when you see Eastbourne's skyline lit up at night, your camera has to come out.
For once, I'd love it if the reply to my answer of "Eastbourne...most of the time" was something other than the previously mentioned questions. I'd quite like somebody to shock me and ask "do you really live in the town that part of Harry Potter was filmed in?" (yes, yes I do. Part of the Quidditch World Cup, in Goblet of Fire, was filmed on Beachy Head) or "Eastbourne? Didn't Sting film one of his music videos there?" because I realised tonight that I should be mighty proud of my little town. While it has nothing on London, or even Brighton, it's beautiful in it's own right. Plus, most places make a smashing cup of tea and the bingo hall is pretty brilliant...
Friday, 13 January 2012
Ever since I can remember, I've always had really strong ambitions and aspirations. I've known I wanted to be a writer since the age of 8, I've known I wanted to travel the world since the first time I stepped foot in an airport and I've always known that eventually, with hard work and a lot of determination, I'd achieve everything I've ever dreamed of...and more.
However, while I'm yet to tick off everything single point on my 'Bucket List', I do know that I've got a lot to look forward too. I like dreaming and the feeling of being pushed forward by something out of my control. I like knowing that eventually my hard work will pay off and those late nights spent reading dictionaries (I wish I was joking) to improve my vocabulary will be oh so worth it.
I want to be able to listen to the musicians my grandparents used to listen to and know who's playing. I want to be able to appreciate live classical music and know when I'm supposed to clap. I want to be able to understand modern music in general and *get* what the hell rappers are going on about. I want to know exactly what people see in musicians such as Bob Dylan and Michael Jackson. I want to possess well informed, yet radical, political ideals and understand every single piece of Martin Luther King's speech, not just the most publicised parts. I want to sit around a table debating over who really was the best Beatle and realise, only when the sun's coming up, that I've spent all night talking about John Lennon. I want to be able to use words like 'eponymous' with confidence and I want to learn to appreciate other languages besides English. I want to learn to appreciate fine wines and exotic liqueurs and be able to drink them without turning into a complete div. I want to eat strange and exotic foods like lobster thermidor and shark, things that shouldn't be edible and things that I can barely pronounce. I want to spend a summer's night on the beach, just because I can. I want to change someone's life the way I've had mine changed by somebody. I want to walk around London and appreciate every single scene my eyes are lucky enough to witness. I want to be able to finish a Proust novel and comment on how well written it is. I want to be able to express just how much a book has changed my life. A book, a song, a lyric, a poem, a person; I want to be able to say that all of these things have touched my heart in one way or another, at one time in my life. I want to be able to say that the written word was my first love, but that the amazing, beautiful man stood next to me on my wedding day will be my last. I want to read books; second hand books that have lived a life before me, brand new books that are about to embark on a life with me, leather bound books, dusty books with *that* old book smell, expensive books of incomprehensible words, books with thin paper and books with dog eared pages. I want to make a difference to somebody's existence. I want I want to say that I've enjoyed the highs but appreciated the lows. I want to be able to say that I've made my parents proud. I want to be able to teach my own children the lessons I've learnt throughout my lifetime. I want them to think I'm untouchable, the way I look at my own mother...I want them to be proud of everything I achieved before I dedicated my life to making their's just as beautiful as my own. Most of all though, I just want an original idea.
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
I'm rubbish at remembering to post 'compulsory' blog posts. I'm obsessed with my hip flask. 2012 has started off amazingly. I'm really into Karima Francis' music at the moment. I'm INCREDIBLY inappropriate. I've made a pact with myself to not waste my time on people who just aren't worth it; it's amazing how many people you lose when YOU stop making the effort. The taste of 'junk food' just doesn't appeal to me anymore. I realised there's an awful lot about me that my Mum doesn't know. I'm accepting the fact that I made an AWFUL lot of mistakes in 2011 but instead of vowing that 2012 will be mistake free, I've decided to embrace every single wrong step because after all, it's all life experience. I'm learning all about self control. I had my entire world shook up yesterday by 2 of the coolest girls you'll ever meet - it's amazing what you see when you open your eyes. I'm determined to make 2012 special.
Sunday, 8 January 2012
When it comes to blogging, I try not to be too personal. I know this sounds rather strange considering blogging is supposed to be completely honest, but I believe that everybody is entitled to a little bit of secrecy. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart...which funnily enough is what this blog post is all about.
Just like pretty much every single 18/19 year old there, I'm a huge lover of social networking sites. Facebook and Twitter are perfect for documenting every single thing going on in my life and obviously, they help me connect with friends, which I love because I'm absolutely awful with communication some days. However, while they seem brilliant in that respect, they're also quite dangerous. The bullying, the teasing, the bitching...these things all come from social networking sites and while hiding behind a screen and saying something mean to somebody may seem funny when you're with a group of friends, that comment will almost definitely have an effect on that person.
I'm going off on a tangent here because I've just realised how awful these sites can actually be, but in my case, right now, social networking sites can be dangerous because they can uncover the truth. Before you think I'm absolutely mental for considering the truth to be a bad thing, hear me out...please.
Consider this situation: Girl meets boy. Boy flirts with girl. Girl gets a confidence boost. Boy pulls out all his best moves in order to make girl reciprocate flirting. Girl gets sucked into the mess, loosing her head for a second and boy kisses girl. Girl then remembers the 'hoes before bros' code and asks boy if he has a girlfriend. Boy says no. Girl lets herself get happily sucked into the situation, resulting in boy getting exactly what he wanted and girl thinking she can definitely take this one home to meet the parents.
This all seems perfectly honest, right? Ok...now hold that situation in your head whilst you're reading this.
Boy meets girl. Boy decides he's bored and in need of attention. Girl seems more than happy to reciprocate flirting. Boy gets more and more confident/horny. Boy kisses girl. Girl pulls away and asks about a girlfriend. Boy hesitates for about 2 seconds, remembering the poor girl sat waiting for a reply to a text she sent 3 hours ago. Boy decides girl doesn't need to know about girlfriend because after all, there's no point in stopping the fun when said girlfriend isn't there. Boy lies. Girl kisses boy. Boy is happy the situation is working in his favour. Boy forgets that he's potentially hurting not one, but two girls, with this situation and lets his penis take over.
Not so honest now.
However, from where I'm sat, situation 1 was all I've ever known for the past year. I happily let myself get sucked into a situation which I considered to be lovely and I convinced myself that the situation could get serious. While I should probably point out now that 'serious' in my books means POSSIBLY letting him stay the night, alerting my Mum that I'm 'just texting' a guy and saving his number, I still allowed myself to get carried away by the situation. And that means that I'm still left reeling when I discover just how honest Facebook can be.
Having not paid much attention to above mentioned Boy's Facebook, in fear of not wanting to seem too keen (just in case Facebook suddenly releases a programme that allows people to see just who is visiting their profile), it never occurred to me that the boy could have been lying. While I'm not exactly a nun when it comes to the opposite sex, I guess I just let myself believe the ol' fairytale story that us girls seem to know and love. When are we ever going to learn, huh?
Anyway...thank God for Facebook...or not, depending on how much you appreciate honesty. There I was, happily browsing through Boy's Facebook (I'd like to point out I'm not a stalker, he just has a rather pretty face...) when I see a comment that reads "thank u for 2day, gorgeous. Love u xxxxx". Now, this is where curiosity really should kill. I tried to stop myself but I just couldn't: I clicked on the girl's profile. And there it was:
"(insert girl's name here...) is in a relationship with (insert stupid boy's name here)" "Anniversary: 18th September 2010"
While this girl's awful spelling/grammar doesn't really tick any of my boxes, I suddenly feel horrible. They've been together almost 2 years and while I had absolutely no idea of this (said relationship doesn't appear on Boy's profile...he's clever like that), I feel like I've gone against one of the 'Girl Code' rules.
I know this poor girl would be devastated if she found out - after all, she is human and who knows how many other girls this fella has on the go - but right now I'm more concerned with the fact that I fell for an absolute lie. If it wasn't for Facebook, I'd still be texting this boy thinking things were FINALLY going somewhere. But then again, if it wasn't for Facebook, I'd still be texting a slimy love rat who thinks it's okay to let his penis do the talking and lie to girls?
Thursday, 5 January 2012
I've just spent the past 60 minutes watching 'Adele Live at the Royal Albert Hall' and despite being a teeny bit drunk, those 60 minutes seem to have had a pretty big effect on me. Even though the film/programme/show ended about half an hour ago, I'm still transfixed by everything that went on during the show.
I know I don't have to explain just how brilliant Adele is. I mean, she has the ability to sum up exactly how you're feeling within the first lyric of one of her songs, is in possession of the world's BEST hair & is the type of person you just want to get drunk with. Whether she's swearing like a fishwife or singing the most honest and refreshing break-up song my generation has ever heard, you can't help but fall in love with Adele.
Now, I don't know about you when I instantly warm to somebody when I hear they're from the same dodgy South-ish London town as me, so when I first heard that Adele lived in Thornton Heath, studied at the infamous BRIT school in Croydon and performed her first gig in Brixton, I knew that this girl had my heart without even hearing her voice. She could have sounded like JLS and I'd still have bought her album, simply because I knew she'd consider Thornton Heath's McDonald's Play Pen as part of her childhood.
There's something so brilliant about her Cockney accent and not just because it reminds me of my relatives. I'm confused as to how she can sing so beautifully yet normally sound like Peggy Mitchell. It's that mystery that surrounds it all; after hearing her speak, you half expect her to scream "GER' OUDA MY PUB!" but you're then serenaded by some of the most mind blowing vocals I've ever heard. You just don't expect it.
The thing about Adele, for me personally, is her honesty. 'Daydreamer' is about a bisexual boy she fell in love with who claimed to feel the same about her, but then, on her 18th birthday, ran off with one of her gay friends. Instead of reminiscing on how horrible that must have felt, she's turned the situation round and made this song into her daydream of how perfect this boy should have been. She doesn't hold back either & if I was this fella who ruined her 18th birthday, I'd have felt extremely guilty the minute I heard her perform this song on Later With Jools Holland...
Besides songs about falling for boys confused about their sexuality, she's penned the most iconic break-up song ever heard since 'You Oughta Know' - Alanis Morissette. There's not one person I know who can honestly say they didn't get a little bit emotional when they heard 'Someone Like You' for the first time and there's a reason for that. EVERYBODY knows what it feels like to lose somebody, whether it be out of choice or not, and for that reason alone, everybody can resonate with Adele's lyrics. There's a reason her performance of this song at the BRIT Awards has 82,830,996 views on YouTube and I'm pretty sure it's not just because of James' Corden's presenting.
"There's nothing quite like the feeling of when you're listening to a song written by someone you don't know, who you've never met, who somehow manages to describe exactly how you felt at a particular moment in your life." - see, James knows what I'm talking about!
Every time you've turned to the tub of Ben & Jerry's after a particularly horrible piece of heartbreak, every night you cried yourself to sleep because of some silly boy who didn't understand how to use his heart (or his head, for that matter) and for every time your heart sunk after seeing said boy, you just know Adele would understand. She'd get it all: the heartbreak, the tears and the comfort eating.
Her album '21' says it all. It goes through every motion a break-up includes and after putting the CD in the CD player, calling your best girlfriend's over to drink obscene amounts of wine and ending the night crying into a bar of Galaxy, you'll eventually be feeling a little bit closer to human. Imagine Adele doing exactly the same thing, because you know she's going to have copied your every move. Except somewhere in between the 2nd and 4th bottle of wine, she's penned down her feelings just so you can get through your own personal little hell. She's considerate like that.
Call me crazy, but there's got to be something about the girl who spent her first album advance on cigarettes and Burberry. When complimented on her outfit once, her reply was as follows "Burberry...everything. Everything except the earrings...they're Argos." she seems as down to Earth as they come and although some ol' cynical might claim that to be just a publicity stunt, it's hard to imagine somebody so brutally honest within their song writing to ever be a little bit fake.
Another thing that makes me wish Adele was my best friend is how casual she is about her weight. She's a size 14/16, refuses to stop eating and turn into a stick thin coat hanger and admits that she loves her food. It's about fucking time. In a world where everybody seems to be obsessed with weight, there's no denying that Adele is a breath of much needed fresh air. In interviews, she's always said that the only time she'd worry about her weight is if it interfered with her singing or getting a boyfriend. As we know from both her albums, '19' and '21', this is definitely not the case.
Even without everything mentioned above, there's one moment that has made me fall completely head over heels for Adele, in a completely straight way. During her recent performance at The Royal Albert Hall, Adele covered Bob Dylan's 'Make You Feel My Love'. Before the performance, she dedicated the song to Amy Winehouse stating that she knew how much Amy loved the song and wished she knew how much of an inspiration she had been to her. After a brief emotional moment (what am I on about, the whole performance is bloody emotional!), Adele then demands that EVERYBODY flash their camera or phone light and hold it up to the sky. Refusing to sing until every single person in the audience is doing so, she waits until the whole hall is covered in lights from pieces of technology and says "now look behind you. It's a fucking sky of stars and she can see every single one of them."
It doesn't sound like much but it left me and my Mum speechless and I have to say that takes an awful lot.
I realise I've rambled on about only half the things I wanted to say but I realised halfway through this post that nothing I can say will properly sum up Adele's magnificence. She can sing, she's not afraid to publicise her heartbreak and she'll happily stand on stage at the Royal Albert Hall and shout "IT'S ROYAL ALBERT FUCKING HALL!" and not give a shit. Before I get started again, I'm going to leave you with this video. After watching this, maybe you'll realise that this blog post doesn't make me crazy, it just makes me human...how can you not love Adele?
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
As 2011 came to a close and 2012 came a'knocking on my doorstep, I realised for the first time in my 18 years that New Year isn't about saying goodbye & good riddance. Yes, you might want to say au reviour to the nights you spent crying into your pillow at 4am or the afternoons you resorted to stuffing your face with cookie dough after a particularly bad break-up but it's also about saying bonjour to everything the next year has to bring. There will be lows, without a doubt, but there will also be a lot of highs. With that in mind, I decided to list everything 2011 was about...good or bad, because afterall, it's all life experience & that's something which I personally can't get enough of.
It was the year I can safely say I had my first hit of heartbreak. It was the year I decided that after spending 3 whole months stressing out about various A Level projects, my personal statement and choosing Universities, I decided not to enter further education. It was the year I spent completely unemployed. It was the year I lost some really close friends. It was the year I piled on the pounds. It was the year I said goodbye to my hair as I bleached it for the 12th time and dyed it green. It was the year I spent 3 whole weeks in tears as bad news got delivered from every angle. It was the year I had the biggest fight we've ever had with my brother. It was the year I received 207 job rejection e-mails/letters. It was the year I said goodbye to my best friends as they all disappeared off to Uni. It was the year I spent the majority of drunk & it was the year where I realised a lot about how I handle negative situations.
That being said, it was also the year I passed my exams & A Levels. It was the year I've spent completely focused on writing and where I want to be in the future. It was the year that I met some amazing people & gained friends whom I know will be around for life. It was the year where I took comfort in knowing I could devour an entire bar of Galaxy in under 30 minutes...record time. It was the year I finally LOVED my hair. It was the year I learnt just how strong I am. It was the year that I saw Paloma Faith live. It was also the year I went to heaps of gigs. It was the year I learnt my limit with alcohol. It was the year I gave up some horrible habits and completely changed my lifestyle (for the better). It was the year I learnt just who I really should focus on. It was the year that made me grow up the most. It was the year I had some amazing news about my writing. It was the year that made me realise just how special my friends are & it was the year where I realised just how lucky I am.
Here's too an even better 2012...xxx
Sunday, 1 January 2012
I have so many drafts of blogs saved for me to publish as soon as I get on my laptop but st the moment, I'm on my phone so this is going to be short but hopefully sweet.
At the moment, I'm laying in bed, craving a Chinese takeaway and reflecting on how crazy 2011 really was. I just want to wish you all a Happy New Year & say that whatever you got up to last night, I hope you had fun.
Lots of love, peace and happiness for 2012, you beautiful people. Let's make this a good'un xxx
At the moment, I'm laying in bed, craving a Chinese takeaway and reflecting on how crazy 2011 really was. I just want to wish you all a Happy New Year & say that whatever you got up to last night, I hope you had fun.
Lots of love, peace and happiness for 2012, you beautiful people. Let's make this a good'un xxx