Tag Archives: books

Taylor Swift and the Lucky Golden Ticket

Reading has always been one of my most cherished past-times: as a child I spent hours flicking through the pages of Enid Blyton, J.K Rowling and Roald Dahl, drinking in their words. I was with Charlie, hoping to find a Wonka bar that contained that lucky, golden ticket. I was stood next to Matilda as she defeated Miss Trunchbull and finally found the love she always craved; I wasn’t alone. Any problems I had suddenly seemed superfluous and all that remained was the story and the characters of the book: my friends.

Whilst the words created by my most loved authors captured my imagination as a child, nowadays, the sounds of Taylor Swift and the sweet accompaniment of a bottle of red wine are far more likely to entice me on a Monday night. So earlier this year I made it my mission to read 25 books before I turn 25; the concept is adorable and I need to create goals for myself so I foolishly believe that my life has meaning.

Unfortunately, as someone with commitment issues,  I intend to follow through with everything I set my mind to but the execution isn’t quite there yet. Couple that with a love for binge-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I’ve fallen off the reading bandwagon, and picked up a few library fines along the way.

I’m not a child anymore, I don’t have imaginary friends or climb into my wardrobe hoping to find Narnia: I can watch the film on Netflix instead, but isn’t that a crying shame? It’s about time I turned off my laptop and reconnected with some old friends: I think they’ve missed me.

Is there anything you’ve read lately that you’d recommend to spice up my bookshelf? 

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Shady’s back…

I’m back! Queue the sounds of hundreds of people not caring…

I’ve actually had my laptop back for a couple of days but I’ve been having one of those weeks where crying in the shower and feeling sorry for myself have been at the top of my to-do list, and I’m sure no-one wants to read about how I regret my entire existence.

Instead, I thought I’d do a quick run-down of everything I’ve learnt in the week I’ve been away:

  • Wearing no underwear in public isn’t as liberating as I thought it would be. Must remember that I live in the real world and not in my fantasy where I’m an Olsen twin.
  • The coverage of the Jay-Z/Solange fight on social media only demonstrates how people care about anything as long as it makes them feel better about their own problems.
  • Trying to match my liquid eye liner on both sides really is a lost cause – I’m always going to look like a prepubescent girl whether L’Oreal tells me I’m worth it or not. If all else fails, I’ll rock a red lip and pretend my mother wanted me to appear on toddlers and tiaras.
  • Rather than learning from my mistakes straight away, I prefer to keep repeating them until I hate myself enough to stop.
  • There aren’t enough words to express the anger I feel towards people who tell me they don’t read because “it’s boring.” Perhaps it isn’t considered ‘cool’ to spend my Saturday looking for new books in the local library instead of hanging out at a beer garden waiting for bad decisions to turn into good ones, but I happen to find reading incredibly fun and sexy. 50 Shades of Grey taught us that, right?

Clearly I’m incredibly judgemental and kind of an asshole, but I knew that already.

Various clichés with a sprinkling of self importance on top.

As the voice of our generation, Britney Spears once said: “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman”, in fact I spent the entire night with one eye open, half expecting Ruth Gordon to be stood above my bed holding some Tannis Root. Despite this, like everyone else on the planet January is a time for me to reflect on my various misdeeds in 2013 and at least try to improve my mind, body, and soul in the year to come.

Basically, I’ve been living my life as a 5/10 kind of person when I can at least  stretch a bit further and be a solid 7/10, it might be a tad cliché but this year I want to be a better version of myself. Honestly though I’m a fan of clichés, I truly believe that love is blind, curiosity killed the cat and money is the root of all evil. So why not add ‘new year, new me’ to the list as well; if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! (Okay, I really will stop now.)

First on the list is improving my intellect: I have a lifelong passion for books and film which isn’t quite being sated by watching reruns of ‘The Hills’ and reading ‘Cosmopolitan’ in my spare time. Hopefully it isn’t too late to fulfil my ultimate dream of becoming a Gilmore Girl!

 If we’re talking about intellect, I should probably add writing more to the list, lately I’ve been slacking and have rarely checked into the inspiration station. I started this blog as a means of escape and wouldn’t think twice about posting my innermost thoughts and feelings on the internet. However, as more people I know have discovered it, what was once sacred now feels like cheap titillation for those I’d rather not be reading it. I either need to start over with my blog or just fuck the system as it were and post regardless, I hate that my writing has suffered because I’m afraid of being honest.

Lastly, and most importantly, I need to be a better person. Although I do need to open my mind, which should in turn help me become a better version of myself, I should probably improve my soul too. I know I can do more, be more. I can do anything I want and I’ve been limiting myself to certain people and certain experiences which bring me down rather than build me up. Life’s tough at the top and it’s even harder when you should be reaching for the stars but you’re playing with the rats. I might not be Lorelai Gilmore, an Olsen Twin or Jennifer Lawrence but I certainly won’t get anywhere near if I don’t try.

All you need is a punch in the face.

I’m feeling kind of depressed at the moment. Not the kind of depression whereby you get hit by a car, break both your legs, lose your job and feel desperately alone in the world. Not even the ‘I’ve had a bad day’ kind of depression where you miss your bus, you’re late for work, get stung by a bee and realise you have no wine in the fridge. My mindset just feels darker somehow, and I blame it on my quest to be come a more well rounded, interesting person who enjoys reading some light ‘Nietzsche’ in my spare time.

I’ve always enjoyed reading darker material, even as a child my favourite book was ‘The Little Match Girl’ by ‘Hans Christian Anderson.’ If any of you haven’t read it, I recommend it, beautiful and slightly haunting, but SPOILER ALERT she dies at the end so not the most cheerful of childhood books. It’s a similar story with films, as a child I used to adore ‘A Little Princess,’ a family film with a happy ending, but still, she thinks her father is dead and has to become a servant, all alone in the world to pay her way. Incase you haven’t guessed there’s a running theme here, loneliness. Something about it has always both terrified and captivated me from an early age, and the books I read and films I watch quite often reflect that. I’ve always romanticized the idea of being alone, and found beauty in it, even in my darkest times I’ve found a sort of sad enjoyment out of the pain that comes from loneliness.

Right now I’m reading ‘Intimacy’ by ‘Hanif Kureishi’, the story of a man who is about to leave his family. The dialogue is so honest that reading it shatters me, and left me feeling slightly uneasy in a way I haven’t felt whilst reading before. It tells the truth, the truth about feeling alone and unhappy in a relationship, and I found myself feeling drained after reading only a few pages. Instead all I wanted was to watch ‘The Notebook’ or ‘Dirty Dancing’ or any romantic film that results in a ‘happy ever after.’ The twisted enjoyment and poetic beauty I used to find in being alone is no longer there, instead it upsets me. I want my ‘Notebook’ moment, I want someone to give a cheesy speech to me about how I’m all they want, I want my happy ending. The next thing you know I’ll be dotting hearts over my ‘i’s’ and listing ‘All You Need is Love’ by ‘The Beatles’ as my favourite song; sickening.