Directing: that'll be a doddle, right?

So I'm sitting here on my first free Tuesday for 7 months in the warm post-directorial glow of a fantastic show week plus an absolutely incredible review from NODA (which I will show off later) and I wanted to write a bit of a reflective blog about my first experience as a director, hopefully you will find it entertaining.

1. The beginning Stages

The first few weeks of rehearsals were odd. The music needs to at a decent enough level that people can put their books down for long enough to look where they're going when setting. I spent most of the rehearsals sitting at the back, listening and scribbling notes in my big pink book; most of which I never even mentioned. I also kept my lib and my pink book with at most times, making rough notes in the back and "best notes" in the front. These stages were interspersed with committee meetings and spending a lot of time in denial about my forthcoming responsibility for running rehearsals.

2. The Audition Stages

Auditions were without a doubt the worst part of the whole process. Not only was sitting on the panel terrifying, but I had no idea what I was looking for and mostly spent the whole time thinking how wonderful everyone was without being objective or making many useful notes. The decision making was just as hard; working out which of your opinions were actually more important than the opinions of the other people on the panel; and making some difficult and unheard of decisions such as re auditioning. Sending the email with the final cast list was nerve wracking to say the least and I was so relieved when it was all over and an angry mob didn't turn up to my door with pitch that even if the show was terrible I could console myself that I wouldn't have to audition anyone again.

3. The Directing Stages

From the very first rehearsal where we started setting I started to think about how directors have done this in shows I've been in in the past. That number of shows is around 17 and with 5 different societies and 12 different directors over the last 10 years. Can I remember how any of them lead a rehearsal; and translated their notes and stick person drawings to real life? Can I fuck. Even to this day I cannot recall a single rehearsal that I've been to in all that time, nor did I have any idea what I am about to do with the 30-odd people standing in front of me; faces full of expectations and hope. The first few rehearsals were messy but I told myself if we stuck to the schedule everything would be just fine.

4. The Setting stages

This has taken most of the time. We took roughly one or two songs, or a about 15 minutes of stage time, a rehearsal. Everything at first went particularly well, especially with the men who were full of enthusiasm when you could stop them laughing at the words "sword" and "bottom". Which actually never happened, but its nice to dream. A lot of rehearsals felt like a lot of me half explaining what I wanted, half miming what I wanted in an impossible-to-recreate way; but somehow they managed to get my meaning. Quite often I shared my doodles of what I expected it to look like. In my head this meant that in a rehearsal or two later I would be able to say "Remember that picture of an upside down trapezium I told you about?" and everyone would remember exactly what I meant. However, in reality would be met by rows of blank faces (more on that later). I used a range of methods, repetition; diagrams; rearranging; sectioning; giving up and trying again next week... and most of the time I felt we achieved a lot in a rehearsal which is nice. I was glad to have a designated "point of no return notes" section in my pink booklet so I could write things as they were and I was determined that they would stay that way. Most of the men can account for that when I got to the fourth rerunning of one section of finale act 1 and resorting to begging them to remember the moves. They did. I won.

5. The Principal Stages.

Now my principals were fantastic. There was not a weak member of the group and for the most part Friday rehearsals required very little effort from me and attendance was good. Having said that the principals definitely taught me more about directing than anything else. For most of the solo numbers,which are tough at best in G&S; I gave the cast very rough instructions but mostly left it up to them, with a few exceptions. Now, there is a song in act 2 which is very hard going, but leaving it to the principal involved actually resulted in one of the funniest and most entertaining numbers in the show, and I'm gutted I can't take credit for it. Thinking about it I think there is more of a balance to be struck with directing the principals and trusting them to use their instincts. In fairness if I had set a routine to that number it would have involved much harder work in rehearsals, frustration from both sides if they couldn't get the hang of it, plus remembering something someone else has told you to do is much harder than keeping together your own routine. This was particularly evident in some of the other numbers where more than one principal was involved and it was a lot harder to set even a few movements in certain other numbers as when on stage there will be something that feels natural to you as an individual that no director could predict; or even control in some places.

6. The Blank Face Stages

This was one of the hardest parts of rehearsals. I'm aware I ramble and I'm aware that I do sometimes start a train of thought halfway through and quite often have to restart sentences that try to come out before they are even slightly ready. However I tried my best to be clear and reasonable, but I spent half my time looking at confused, blank and sometimes downright disgusted faces. This happened at full cast and principal rehearsals and it was without a doubt the most difficult thing to deal with, not only did I constantly have to question my own explanation, but I also found it very hard not to take it offensively... After a while I did come to realised that people develop this face when they are processing information. It's the human equivalent of the little spinning icon or the hour glass on a computer when something is waiting to load.

7. The "I've Got a Great Suggestion" Stages

Oh dear Lord. This was not a fun part of the role. Generally speaking I think I was quite good at sticking to my original ideas, after all if it wasn't in the permanent section it wasn't getting put in. There were suggestions throughout the show. Some of which were decent and I did take them on board because they made sense - for example allowing the women time to turn so they could see the MD. However some were just nonsensical "This will be easier for me" "This makes more sense"; nope, no it doesn't and I'm actually a fan of what it already looks like so let's just stick to what I told you to do, YES?!? My general line was "Ok thank you, I'll have a look at that and see if I can make it work". The suggestion then promptly left my thoughts and never dawned on me again. This might sound very pompous and very precious, but it is also why I (rightly) ignored the committee's suggestion that I elect an Assistant Director. I didn't want someone to disagree with me constantly, nor someone to run my ideas past before I even got to the chorus themselves. It would only make me doubt myself and I was confident enough with my doodles that everything was realistic enough to happen and look good.
Some of this meant I also ended up with not enough time to add things in that I would have loved to... But I'll save them for next time.

8. The Difficult Decision Stages

It wouldn't be right to talk about this whole process without mentioning the difficult decisions that had to be made. But actually calling them difficult isn't right because at the end of the day if a decision is the right one to make then it shouldn't be difficult and it wasn't. Although very stressful, having to make difficult decisions made me a better director without a doubt. It was at that point I stopped taking on board everyone's input and stuck to my guns. My guns which had no lead me wrong yet. If I had to umm and aahh over decisions I knew it wouldn't be the right one; but the simple fact is I didn't have to and I was pleased with myself for being objective and putting the good of my production and the society before any personal turmoil that it could have involved. And as a result I didn't suffer much, or any, personal turmoil and business was resumed with barely a bump on my family escutcheon. It was also a humbling experience that showed to me what it means to be a member of a society such as this and that there are people who are willing to do their duty for the good of the society without a moment's hesitation. I really hope this experience makes me a better cast member in the future.

9. The Justification Stages

Some of the hardest times came from my encounters with the committee as a whole. I had a very clear idea of what I wanted and I knew that money was tight and I was keen to do my part in keeping costs down. Considering all the shows I have been in and seen I am aware that the things you notice are: The people on stage. What the people on stage are wearing. What they sound like. What the music sound likes. What they have in their hands. Nothing else. Owing to the versatility of the venue I wanted to encourage the committee to be creative and to help themselves save money. As a result we had some highly praised costumes which we begged, borrowed and stole (well, hired for as little money as possible) and absolutely fantastic, functional and unique set which I couldn't have been happier with. The committee meetings on the whole were an absolute battlefield however it all paid off. We saved money so we could afford a small band; and publicity efforts paid off with great ticket sales.

10. The Letting Go Stages

Hugely frustrating but what can you do when the majority of your cast is around retirement age? People don't remember things like they should and even thought each rehearsal sometimes felt like we were starting afresh I like to think I kept my cool as much as I could. I made them diagrams I wrote down every order they should stand in so they should know. I gave them key words for key actions... The women threaded on the word "threading" and the men stepped forward on the word "Forward!" (Clever eh?) But at the end of the day there's only so much you can do. By the end of the resetting stages I learn to do something I have never been able to do before: I let go. I let go of the tiny things that went wrong and the bits that were partly out of time. I wrote two pages of notes at the dress run and I basically ignored them all. It just felt like the right thing to do at that stage; and I think it paid off. No one was concentrating on something picky so they forgot something big and there were barely any moments whilst watching it where I had to cringe because it was all going tits up. So bravo.



There is a huge amount I can take from this experience and I definitely want to do it again. Seeing the pride on people's faces in the audience and the utter enjoyment on the faces of the cast during the show was absolutely magical and I still can't believe that my nonsensical scribbles turned into such a fantastic performance.

But don't take my word from it. From the words of NODA I have a "good understanding of the idiosyncrasies of the genre" created some "outstanding vignettes from members of the chorus" and included "some great ‘updated’ references in the show and the cast looked as though they were having a cracking time performing. This, more than anything else, reflects the strength of the company and the direction." Which, frankly, is the best thing anyone could have said to me.

I hope I have been a good producer the work with and I hope that I have as much passion for future projects (ie ones where I feel like I have less to prove!). I also want to reach out my utter thanks to everyone involved. Obviously Pirates is majorly music so my MD was an absolute class act and it wouldn't have been even half as good without her pushing the chorus and principals to the absolute limit.

Onwards and upwards!

Female Empowerment

After watching an interesting new reality-cum-documentary at work about female wrestlers, our Acquisitions manager said the producer called it "Empowering for women". I immediately took offense to this. Being told what empowers a woman, particularly by a man is extremely patronising. It would be equivilant of me saying that football is empowering to men, when I know several men who don't even like sports.

I'm very interested in the concept of feminism. I wouldn't particularly class myself as feminist, but things such as the fact that the majority of the top guys of the big company who have just bought my company are male do stand out to me. I also realised at that moment that I'm glad these men are there to do the heavy lifting and take responsibility. In comparison I'd be more than happy to stay in my role forever.

It did however make me thing about what empowers me. I have absolutely no desire to be a wrestler, to be told I need to lose 20 pounds or to talk shit about Mexican women. (This involves context you will probably never have unless the show gets commissioned in the UK and you actually chose to watch it.)

So here we go:

Things that empower me:

- Using my degree in every day life. Whether its reciting a literary theory or sending an email in Spanish it tells me that twenty eight grand was worth every penny.
- Driving. Its awesome. Anyone who doesn't should immediately learn.
- Drinking wine whilst cooking. I feel like I belong on Wisteria Lane with the other Desperate Housewives, knowing something exciting would happen.
- Knowing I will never be just a housewife. I'm 23 and the world is at my oyster.
- Locking the doors behind me at 8pm when I get in from working, knowing I'm safe and I have the evening to myself.
- Feeling in charge of my own life
- Directing. I'm still very new but having an idea that I've managed to transfer on paper, then to actual real life human beings is an incredible feeling.
- Knowing wholeheartedly that my other half loves me completely unconditionally.
- Having the most awesome friends in the world. I have at least 4 people I can trust completely to help me in any situation.
- Walking in the dark, being home alone and driving at night. In my head horror film scenarios play over and over again but to be honest I feel invincible.
- Using the bathroom with the door open when I'm home alone.
- Telling someone that I believe in God because its not a big deal and it fits perfectly into the flow of conversation.

Things that do not empower me:

- I still have to sleep with the door closed and my laptop playing episodes of Friends. I probably could sleep without it but sometimes I'm scared not to.
- Not being where I want to be at the speed at want to be there in life. Its unsettling and capable or not its out of my control.
- When I feel like I've done something wrong even though I'm not sure what so feeling dread all day.
- Knowing wholeheartedly that I love my other half unconditionally. Don't ask me why but its terrifying.
- Feeling utterly at mercy to my emotions.
- Directing. It has its good points but I feel completely overwhelmed.
- Being 23. I wish I could fast forward 7 years and be married and pregnant or something so I at least know what's coming.

Takk Fyrir Mig - Iceland and the Northern Lights

Recently, two very good girl friend's and I booked a holiday to Iceland with the aim to see the Northern Lights, something on all our "Before I'm 30..." bucket lists. Poor but still with the carpe diem sort of attitude I was so excited for the opportunity, even if it did make a huge dent in my tiny bank balance.

This trip deserves a full and lengthy blog because it is, without question, the best holiday and the most beautiful country I have ever visited.

Sunday 10th February 2013

Our trip began on a rainy Sunday evening. After an amusing confusion at the car park ticket barrier, we eventually made it Gatwick North Terminal and settled down with a pint. The flight was a late one, and despite the airport being nearly empty we still ending up running the length of the terminal to the plain. But once on the plain the panic was forgotten as we had acres of leg room, pillows, complimentary drinks and a full selection of films and television programmes.

Arriving in Iceland at midnight was not only chilly and tiring, but slightly manic. Firstly I had to battle a woman who had the same suitcase as mine. Same except for the fact hers had a bronze lock... and a massive rip in it, as I had breathed a sigh of relief when I realised it was not my case on the carousel just moments before.

Then our transfer was late, and my LORD do people not handle these situations well? There was pushing, shoving and probably biting somewhere along the line. People who had pushed their way on then refused to sit down because they had abandoned half their families outside of the bus, making it impossible for the driver to know how many seats were still free. Very frustrating, but climbing into a warm bed with a view of a corridor and what can only be described as half a pillow, was just luxurious by 3am.

Monday 11th February 2013

After very little sleep, but a nice shower and a large bready-eggy-cheesey-hammy breakfast, we set off for the day. It was of great surprise that our hotel actually looked out onto mountains - our corridor-view rooms had not done them justice. And my God are they beautiful mountains. As you wander along the harbour more mountains appearing, varying in shape and snow cover, but combined with the sun rise and the blue, still harbour water, it was calming and overwhelmingly gorgeous.

We wandered into town of Reykjavik and found that Icelandic houses are just... cute. Coloured wood-effect houses with white window frames and sloping roofs. Each one unique and adorable. However I think what stood out to us the most was how quiet Reykjavik is. Two thirds of Iceland's 320,000 population live there, but even that is only 20,000 more than the population of Southend-on-Sea, and has nothing on the 8 million people who live in the capital of England. I think Iceland's serenity just added to how beautiful it was.

We stopped at a Cafe which overlooked the Cathedral, an impressive building that you can see from almost anywhere in town. We had a pancake and a cup of hot chocolate and saw our first taste of  how lovely the people of Iceland are. Plus had free WiFi so we could plan our next movements.

Next was a hearty walk through some residential areas where people nail shoes to trees and grow plants out of them, to the Perlan viewing point. Also known fondly as "The Great Boob of Reykjavik" The Pearl can also be seen from anywhere in the city, and from its freezing balcony you can see the whole city, plus the beautiful landscape surrounding it. It was seriously breathtaking. One thing I love about many European cities is the fact they have these high points you can visit so you can see the entire city from one place - something I think parts of England sorely lack.

Downstairs we indulged in a little Icelandic history in the Saga museum. It was really fascinating and obviously an opportunity to pose with the waxworks made there.

Next stop was, of course, Iceland's Phallalogical Museum. Which is what you think it is. What was weirder than the thousands of animal penises in jars, however, was the slightly overweight man who ran this strange shop-size exhibit at the end of the high street, and how he casually brought out a large, wooden (wait for it) penis shaped box to put our money in and handed us "Catalogues" that explain what all the penises are. I'm not sure if he collected them all himself, but I wouldn't be surprised. It was an interesting exhibit, did you know pigs have curly penises? And did you know that Sperm Whale penises are terrifyingly large? Well now you do, thanks to the fact we've maintained very strong levels in immaturity in our 20s.

The first meal of Iceland was a burger restaurant (locally sourced meat I hasten to add). Something I'd spotted earlier in the day, and oh my it was a good shout. A gigantic burger, fantastic service and only cost us £15! Whoever said Iceland was expensive lied horribly. Nom. Nom. Nom.

After a much deserved nap, we headed our on our Northern Lights excursion. The forecast was "Minimum" so we weren't particularly hopeful, even when the driver said the conditions were perfect to see them. Wrapped up warm, heading out to the National Park where there was less light pollution, we suddenly spotted a glow in the sky. The guide made the driver pull over and we saw a beautiful display at just 10.15pm - two hours earlier than the apparent optimum time. They were indescribably beautiful. On a backdrop of thousands of stars you could only dream of seeing in the UK, these green lights danced across the horizon line and off into the darkness. At that moment we also saw a shooting star and Claire received news that her brother's baby might be on the way - Couldn't have been a more exciting moment.

On arrival at the National Park the lights seemed to have drifted off a bit. The glow was very faint, but by this point it didn't matter to any of us if we saw them again because the displayed we'd just seen had been so dazzling. After a very freezing hour, and mostly failed attempt to take pictures, we heading back on the bus to go back to Reykjavik, feeling thoroughly satisfied with our trip.

(Picture by Rhiannon)

On the way back, the driver pulled over again because they spotted an orange-coloured glow just outside of Reykjavik and he wanted us to see the different colours. After five minutes we set back onto the coach, ready for a good night's sleep, when the arrive shouted us back onto the bus. Out of the nowhere, there was a huge light across the entire sky, white, green, purple and orange... It was just like you see postcards and pictures of and it was absolutely stunning. We couldn't have dreamed of having a better experience and we couldn't believe it was our first attempt to see them. My pictures aren't great so here's one by Aaron Buis, a lovely American guy (and new hero to Asian tourists world wide) would took some fantastically beautiful photos.

(Picture by Aaron Buis)

Tuesday 12th February 2013

Tuesday got off to a slower start as we attempted to catch up on a little sleep. In the afternoon we headed to the Blue Lagoon, a big natural out door sauna. The weather was absolutely beautiful and we couldn't wait for a relaxing afternoon.

We arrived and hired a towel and bathrobe, and donned the electronic bracelets you use to get drinks and lock your lockers. We then had to shower before entry, and of course leave our generic bathrobes outside, meaning they all got taken so we'd already played a fun game of swapsies which carried on through the afternoon. It was freezing outside, but once you were in the water you'd think you were in a tropical country because it was so warm. We took some photos and cashed in on our free drink, definitely the sort of life I want to live. Several hours later, after another drink and an algae facial, skin soft and wrinkly from the salt, we left feeling refreshed and relaxed. It was an amazing afternoon and like nothing else I've ever experienced, truly truly beautiful. 

The ride home was also an amazing experience as we drove through the most beautiful sun set.

We had planned to try some Icelandic cuisine that night, and after a long walk found the restaurant we had planned to go to was no longer serving puffin and shark, so we headed to an adorable, more expensive looking, restaurant we had passed on the way down; I think fate had a hand in this because it was one of the most interesting and beautiful meals I've ever had.

We opted for the tasting platter - which I think is very apologetic of the Icelandic, as lots of countries just expect you to eat an enjoy their food, whereas there they are happy for you just to taste.

Minke Whale: Tastes like the old plague-y, wooden smell they pump into old museums where they try to recreate life from 400 years ago. 1 Star.

Wind dried cod: Sawdust texture until mixed with butter, then generally very yummy. 4 Stars.

Puffin with cranberry compote: Not how we expected, less like chicken, more like fish with a sort of duck-like texture, but pretty damn nice. 3.5 stars.

Fermented Shark: Not even food. Just an experience. They give it to you in an airtight jar, presumably to keep back the smell, and recommend that you follow with a chaser of Brevinnin - an Icelandic Schnaps. We opted for a Rip-The-Plaster-Off sort of tactic - only to discover that it's so tough you can't easily get a fork into it. To begin with it actually didn't taste bad, if you could fight the awful rubbery texture - but then the burn begins. The sort of burn that I couldn't describe if I wanted to. The man on the next table asked if it was peppery or chili - but it was neither. So quickly went the shot as well, which made things worse but I suspect it killed a few taste buds which I am thankful for. 0 Stars for Taste, 5 Stars for uniqueness.

Main course was Catch of the day - Blue Ling with barley risotto in white wine sauce, which was just divine, and definitely got rid of the shark after taste. I am so glad I went with people who were willing to try to weird cuisine. It's all very "When in Rome" but I think its important to experience everything you can when you go to another country, and it's definitely a good story too!

Wednesday 13th February 2013

Another beautiful and early morning in my new favourite country, Reykjavik and time for the famous Golden Circle tour. This is a very age-friendly tour because you essentially sit on a bus and stare at the beautiful surroundings, getting out every so often to see more of the miracles that nature hath provided us.

We were a little late out of the bus station because we were on the longest bus in the fleet, so it has a little bit of trouble going down town, (yes, that is what she said). First stop was a massive greenhouse, definitely one of the duller parts of the day, but there were more plants in shoes, and it was kind of interesting to see how they make their own locally grown crops in such a harsh environment.

Next stop was the Gullfoss Waterfall - one of the most impressive things I've ever seen through streaming eyes and blue fingers. The wind was intense and I'm so glad I got some nice pictures because I couldn't bring myself to check. Following it up with a nice warm cuppa with a view of the mountains definitely made the experience worthwhile!

Stop number three was the Geysir park. Geysir is actually the name of the oldest, extinct Geysir in the park. The active one, Strokkur, (teehee) went off about every five minutes and was pretty impressive. I got this cool shot of it going off and the sign. I waited on bended knee in the freezing cold and battled some Japanese tourists who moved out of the way with about ten seconds to spare before the eruption. Lucky for them...

Followed up with some authentic Icelandic Meat Soup and posing in Viking wear and with old troll men definitely struck the balance between cultured&sensible and immature&amusing.

The Fourth and Final stop was in the National Park we were at for the Northern Lights, which is a pretty awesome geographical feat, as it is where the Eurasian and North American Tectonic plates meet... (well, are separating) so we walked from Europe to North America, as I understand it. And the views were incredible.

As designated Food Expert of the holiday, I had found a restaurant called the Hofnin (The Harbour) which was... On the Harbour. So, tired and weary, we set off through a beautiful pink, girly sunset to have our final meal.

And what a meal. I had Reindeer meatballs in a blue cheese sauce, and Claire and Rhiannon had some locally caught Arctic Char. YUM FEST.

Wanting to catch an early night, we headed back to the hotel at about 8.30 so we could get some Zeds before our 5am transfer to the airport. Glowing from our beautiful last evening on our beautiful holiday, Rhiannon (whose name in Latin means "Good at spotting stuff") noticed a glow in the sky... We couldn't quite believe it but there it was - The Motherhugging Northern Lights! At 8.30pm in the middle of Reykjavik. Words cannot describe how amazed we were, they performed a lovely little Goodbye Dance, then hung around for a while for us to get some extra amateur pictures.

Needless to say, Zeds were not caught after this due to feeling like children on Christmas Eve.

I am not exaggerating when I say this is the best holiday and the most beautiful country I've ever been to. It was an incredible few days and I saw things that were just too spectacular for words or pictures to justify it. We've decided we want to go Northern Lights hunting every few years, because quite frankly once is not enough!

Go to Iceland, go now!

Les Miserables - A Review

This shouldn't be a review for Les Mis the film, this should be a review for the No. 17 mascara I got for free when I spent over £5 in Boots for surviving the whole three hours.

Incredible is not the word for this film. I have seen the stage version once and listen to the soundtrack regularly. I find it emotional, compelling and beautifully written.

But after seeing the film I realise that I did not fully understand the show. What seeing it on the screen gives is not only a sense of the the scenery and space the story takes place over, but the intricacies and nuances of the lyrics and emotions that even a front row audience member would miss out on. Seeing the characters faces in 20ft of high definition is not only pleasing when Hugh Jackman or Eddie Redmayne take centre stage, but it means you see, hear and feel every syllable of what they are singing, and this is what makes the story come alive. Now I can see the true change that Jean Valjean went through, his ability to forgive over and over again, his fear when Javert turns up time and time again - Javert's confusion as he is faced with someone so forgiving when he, himself, is driven crazy by a grudge from one prisoner so many years before. How quickly Fantine's life is ruined and how cruelly she is treated for simply wanting to look after her child. How outnumbered the men at the barricade were but how united and brave they were.

All performances were fantastic. The critics have genuinely been too harsh on Russell Crowe. He gave a compelling performance, and no he clearly has not had the same singing training as others, he lacked support and parts of Javert's songs are too high for his range but he did a cracking job, and Stars was just beautiful. Amanda Seyfried is slightly annoying, but Cosette is an awful character. All musicals need a dumb blonde who just floats through life on beautiful soprano tunes. No darling, it is not appropriate to talk about how lucky Marius is to have you forever when ALL HIS FRIENDS HAVE JUST DIED. But this isn't her fault. The one bit of emotion Cosette does express, when Jean Valjean dies was really convincing and did make me empathise with her a lot, so well done Amanda.

Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter were also fantastic, light relief in what could have been a three hour sob fest, definitely brilliant casting there.

I don't think there's much need to speak about Anne Hathaway or Hugh Jackman. Minus strange Scottish/Irish twinges to his voice at the beginning, Hugh Jackman was incredible throughout, and so was Anne Hathaway. Singing I dreamed a dream that close up was incredible. You've heard the song a million times but in a straight shot just with her on screen, even Susan Boyle would struggle to suprise an audience more.

Samantha Barks, whoever she is, is also absolutely stunning and gave a brilliant performance as Eponine. Little Fall of Rain is probably the most emotional song in the show and it did not fail to deliver. I just wish Cosette had died so Marius and Eponine could live happily ever after.

So back to the mascara. I had a little wobble in I Dreamed a Dream, when Cosette asked Jean Valjean if he would be Papa, but the real mascara challenge came from One Day More. Admittedly the song, and the fact lots of people are singing lots of things at the same time makes me excited and emotional anyway, but my gosh I was not expecting that. The cut away shots between each character means you can really appreciate everything that's happening at once, and it reducing me to a bubbling pile of snot and tears. From this point on I couldn't breathe through nose for fear of the noise my tears would make. My chin was wobbling, tears streaming down my front. I haven't cried that much in a film since Green Mile, and that's saying something. Red and Black, Gavroche's death  and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables rendered me pretty much useless, but as I left my make up was still full in tact. Well Done No.17, I shall be buying again.

The finale was just epic. In all honestly it could have finished with Eddie Redmayne and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, but as it does, it plodded on just that little bit further, and for good reason. As Jean Valjean and Fantine's ghosts look out over the city of Paris where thousands of people sing Red and Black one last time, I had shivers down my spine and just the sheer volume of the singing was what made me cry.

Overall, I think the continuous shots, the close ups and the live singing are what made this film incredible. Even the weak parts are anything but and I really think they have done the stage version proud, and given new, deeper meaning to so many parts of the story.

Ten billion stars. Would see again.

Good morning, 2013

And what a beautiful morning it is.


2012 has been a whirlwind of a year. I somehow managed to balance three paid jobs, two voluntary positions, rehearsals and the final year of my degree through the first half. And I came out with a 2.1. Since September I've been working for a wonderful Digital Rights company (don't worry, I didn't know what it was four months ago and I'm only partly sure now...).

I'm pretty sure that the next 12 months aren't going to give me achievements anywhere near the stature or pride of a 2.1 degree or permanent employment, but even 13 hours into the year I know it's going to be fabulous!

Highlights will definitely be:

- Meeting Mary Kate and Ashley
- Seeing Phantom of the Opera
- Going to Iceland to see the Northern Lights
- Performing at the Cliffs Pavilion
- Directing my first show

I think I'm in denial about turning 23, I feel like I'm turning more and more adult each year, which is terrifying. Even Sam has a job where he has to wear a suit now. What happened there?

I hope next year brings myself and everyone I know happiness. As for myself, I'm just going to try and be a better person, to make more time and generally be in less of a rush.

I'm not angry, just disappointed.

I have a series of gripes with certain celebrity personalities. Some of which I vocalise on Twitter, some only in my head; some I write blogs about or use as inspiration for coursework. I tend to get unnecessarily het up over certain things, and I'm fully aware my comments make no difference to the world, society or the individuals that they pertain to. But I like to share it anyway.

For the last week and a half I have felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. I rarely feel sad. If I do it's for a very short amount of time, before I manage to wretch out some sort of positive side of the situation and I carry on with life.

Right now I just feel sad and let down by a selection of people who, whilst have never particularly been heroes or even of much interest to me; other than their title as "household names".

Firstly, we have those people, celebrities and politicians, who think it is okay to hide from the tax system. I have a lot of respect for Jon Richardson who quite plainly said "David Cameron gets criticised every day for having to fire doctors and nurses because there's not enough money in the pot. And one of the reasons there's not enough money in the pot is not everyone pays his taxes.". NB. This is not a political blog, the use of this quote doesn't mean I'm ignoring bad decisions or making any sort of political comment whatsoever. I just think it was a well put argument and I'm glad that he chose to have a go at Jimmy Carr and all the other tax evaders instead of just making it light hearted. If you disagree, take it out with Jon Richardson, not me.

What gives you the right to do this? Is it "just because you can get away with it"? Because that isn't an excuse, or there'd be a lot of serial killers and shop lifters walking free. Being famous, rich, or powerful does not give you the right to steal from your country and you are not above the law. How do you think the "little people" are feeling when half their wages are being taken, and you have more than enough to live off but you just store yours elsewhere for shits and giggles? Not cool.

Secondly, Rihanna. I literally can't even get into this. Back with Chris Brown? You absolute dickhead. I feel sorry for you and your fans you're setting a horrendous example to. It's just wrong. I've watched enough documentaries at work recently where families and victims of rape, assault or kidnappings have turned their experience into a foundation, a charity or even a law in some cases; and these people are nobodies without the money or the press links to make a difference, but Goddamnit they try.

Thirdly, Lance Armstrong: Inspirational cancer-over thrower, athlete, general good guy. Serial doper. Excellent, thanks Lance. All those people you have inspired to overcome weakness, to be a winner and to succeed - it's all based on lies. I realise nothing has necessarily been proved, and he's dropped the trial "because he's tired" of the battle, but that doesn't mean he's innocent. For crying out loud, your inspiration was even used in Dodgeball to get Peter to rejoin the team - that's how much of a well known story yours is, but it was all based on lies. Now it doesn't really matter how many tour de France's you won, or how many types of cancer you overcame you lied to us and that will always weigh more on our hearts than what you did achieve. 

When you're famous your life is like a soap opera. No it isn't controlled and planned by script writers, but at some point the truth will out. Nobody swaps a baby at birth, murders someone or steals from their family company without people finding out. You only can if you are a nobody, because no one is looking at you every day and no one gives enough of a shit to dig up your past. I'm not saying they shouldn't, but they won't.

Which leads me nicely to let down number four. Sir Jimmy Savile. Now I don't know what to make of these claims. I don't know why no one investigated the rumours or why it took until he died for any of these many, many women to come forward. But at the same time I'm not arrogant enough to try and get inside the mind of a terrified 12 year old girl who lived in a time when sex wasn't spoken about, rape wasn't necessarily taken seriously; so probably didn't understand what had happened to her.
Just like Lance; all the good you've done for charity, all the children you helped on your television programme, all of this means nothing now this has come out. And you're not even alive to face the music.
I have a world of respect for his family, who have moved and destroyed his headstone in order to retain the sanctity of the graveyard. I can't even begin to imagine how they feel right now, I would imagine they are heartbroken, and this won't just go away.



I don't envy people who live in the public eye. It's a lot of pressure and of course, no one expects people to be perfect. In fact all four of these cases differ in their level of severity and the people they've affected, but each of them, with a little thought and reasoning, could have been prevented by the individuals, or those around them. I think what makes me even sadder is the facade around so many of them. Jimmy Carr mocking the politicians for the expenses scandal, Rihanna saying she'd never go back to him, years of legacy from Lance, and the memorials and sadness all over the country when Savile passed away. It's all bullshit and lies, which I hate anyway; but the worst part is you can't even confront them about it. You set yourself to love and respect people and they just let you down and there's nothing you can do about it.

I'm not angry. Just disappointed. 

5 Reasons why Nicholas Cage should be my boyfriend

1. THE FILMS! OH GOD THE FILMS!

Every film that Nick Cage is in is fantastic in its own ridiculous way. The storylines sound like they were concocted in a meth lab and the dialogue generally sounds like the combination of a five year old and a tourettes sufferer. The characters are terrible, the women are degraded and the unthinkable always happens. Even in good quality films, such as Kick Ass or The Sorcerer's Apprentice, Nick Cage gives it his personal ReNicholas stamp to make assure you it will not disappoint.

2. When he loses his shit.

Whatever the film, whatever the storyline, Nick Cage will do what he does best - Go bat shit crazy. I probably have inflicted this video on you before, but if I haven't, prepare for the best 4 minutes 14 seconds of your life. This man has so much soul. I also own most of the films these extracts come from and I can assure that, in context, the outbursts make... absolutely no sense whatsoever.




3. Lines that you can only get away in a film starring him.

I am a film buff and a literary snob, and I am not afraid to admit it. Film and television with terribly dialogue, books that are written terribly make me die inside. But Nick Cage could be Christian Grey and I would read that damn book and watch the film on a loop over and over again. Dear Movie Gods - PLEASE cast Nicholas Cage as Christian Grey. It would be the best decision you ever made.

"You see this here femur? It belonged to your daughter"
"Two Roger's don't make a right"
"What's in the bag? A shark or something?"
"HAGGIS"
"How in the name if Zeus's butt hole did you get out of your cell?!"
"FUCKING HANGERS"
"Have you ever been dragged the pavement until your PISSED BLOOD"
"HOW'D IT GET BURNED, HOW'D IT GET BURNED, HOW'D IT GET BURNED?!?!?!?!"
"I never derobe before opening fire."

I could go on.

4. The way you can measure the greatest of one of his film on the awfulness of his wig.

Don't believe me? Check out pictures of his films, the more terrible the wig, the more terrible frigging awesome the film.

5. Dying like no man can.

Whether it's by a chip fryer to the face, or as a sacrifice to the honey Gods. This man dies in style. And he won't die quietly. What's more, he doesn't always stay dead, and his return is majestic and fantastic. SOMETIMES he's already dead. Is there anything he can't do?!

Batman - A review

*S-s-s-s-s-spoiler Alert*
Do not read if you haven't watch the film yet. If you do you only have yourself to blame.

Definitely an amazing film. No dull parts. Really interesting use of sound and music too; particularly with the kid singing at the football match. Amazing special effects, and so glad they didn't bother with 3D because there is genuinely no need in a film like this. The story/FX balance was just right, and I salute the film for this. A lot of people have said it isn't as good as the previous Batman film, and opinion with which, with the distinct lack of Heath Ledger, I am inclined to agree. It had a lot more story than the first one, which was good in its own right. I think that you can view this film as its own product,  like with the new Charlie and the Chocolate factory - it is different to the first one, and it only becomes bad, or poor, through comparison, which is not necessarily fair.

I do think it needed a bit more... something. A lot of it was very generic action movie stuff, which yep, it builds tension, there's a few twists to throw you off course but it wasn't quite special enough owing to the effort that has gone into this movie's production. I also found a lot of it was reminiscent of its surroundings. We have the riots of the poor against the rich, there are terrorists, and the scene in the football stadium I'm sure would be eerily too close to home for those poor people in that cinema in Denver (although obviously there is no link there). Then we have the Chilean minors in the buried police officers; and there was something very Mrs. Weasley about the come back of the Commissioner ("That's my city you bitch, BOOM"). The ending was also a remake of the latest Sherlock Holmes.

It also need a lot more Batman. I don't know who else feels the same, but I feel utterly mis-sold by the title of the film. High points for me were some amazing performances from Mr. Can-do-no-wrong Gordon-Levitt, and Michael Caine. Anne Hathaway definitely came out of her shell too and her nemesis/lover dynamic with Bruce worked really well. Brucey himself though; what a self indulgent little shit. I'm sorry but all this moody angst was just not what I wanted from the hero of this movie. I appreciate that he's resurrecting an old and dead part of himself but he really could have done it with less of a fuss. And yes, you should have sacrificed yourself, but you should be the selfless hero and you just weren't and that makes me sad.

The ending however was amazing. I was too slow to click that JGL would be Robin, but couldn't think of anyone better for the role.

I will end this review with a small rant about Marion Cotillard. Yes I appreciate that this is your second, or perhaps even third or fourth language, but woman, PLEASE, enunciate! I also appreciate that for 99% of the film your role was to be pointless, naked and flouncy but that is no excuse for mulching through words like "necessary" and whatever else you said that I simply couldn't catch. Luckily most of it was pointless so it didn't take much from the overall impact of the film. I've even seen you in other films where you display the ability to speak. All I can imagine is she was told to mumble while her character was being deceptive so when she reveals her true identity as the villain you think "Ah that explains her lack of communication then".
Same goes from Tom Hardy. Tone down on the echo boys, it was very difficult to understand him and he was far too posh to have been lived in a hole in the ground and to possess monstrous strength.

Overall, 4 stars. Bravo.

Ted - A Review

I saw Ted yesterday and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. Usually things like this are super hyped up and everyone tells me how hilarious it is, so I don't find it funny as a result.

Luckily for the producers of Ted, fat children being punched in the face and inappropriate jokes about hookers and poo do actually crack me up. However it did fall into the awkward category with scenes that lasted way longer than necessary, but less so than Borat or Bridesmaids so I wouldn't hold it against the film as a whole.

The whole film was well put together, the old British guy voice over making it seem like a Christmas story set the tone just right for the rest of the film. Plus before the bear became Peter Griffin it was super cute. I have mixed feelings about Mila Kunis. Mostly because she looked way too pristine for a film like this, making her seem more like a Megan Fox wannabe, when Kunis is actually a reasonably talented actress (Also had no idea she did the voice for Meg in Family Guy until just now...). Her ridiculous make up having just got out the shower and when she had woken up, combined with her stroppy attitude to Ted made her a really unlikeable character which she's really not supposed to be. You should be able to sympathise with her that her boyfriend was obsessed with his Teddy Bear; but she came across so tarty I just felt she was being unreasonable.

I did enjoy Mark Wahlberg, mostly his very slight Boston accent. It made him better looking because he was a bit more rough around the edges than what you would expect from your average movie star/Mila Kunis's boyfriend type of person.

Overall the film made me laugh out loud, it made me cry and I would definitely watch it again. I give it 3.5 stars.

The Amazing Spiderman: A Review.

Okay I'm new at this (not at having opinions, writing reviews) but here goes nothing.

So I saw the New and Improved Amazing Spiderman on Friday. I just realised I just summed up my entire review in three words there. New and Improved. Having also watched the original Toby Maguire version to confirm my suspicions, I can confirm that whilst a very different film, it is superior in almost every way. 

Toby Maguire is adorable; but the original Spiderman is much more of a RomCom. Which is fine because he starts by narrating that it's all about this girl. So fair game to them - they wrote it that way.

The Amazing Spiderman however takes the superhero thing seriously; and is far more in line with the quality of films such as The Avengers or The Dark Knight; Special effects, dialogue, general character development etc.

Andrew Garfield. Wow. I could write a blog just about him but it would probably turn into erotic fan fiction so I think I'll try and steer clear. He makes an amazingly awkward American teenager. I loved that he wasn't made to be super geeky and stereotyped, it was just there and obviously without cheesy props and costume. With far more depth once you learn what happened to his parents and his connection to Oscorp. His relationship with his Aunt and Uncle is also far more convincing; and the death of Uncle Ben had me inconsolable for a good ten minutes of the film: powerful stuff. It also makes his transition from vengeful, spider bitten, hormonal teen, into responsible hero much more believable and heart wrenching. And as much as I love the upside down rain-kiss with MJ in the original, give me that kiss with AG and Emma Stone on the balcony any day. Such passion, and again, much more convincing.

Not being a comic book geek I can only guess, but I assume the process of him becoming Spiderman was more true to the comic, and making the web dispensers himself is also part of that. The transition is also hilarious; subtle but brilliant. Less convincing however is Peter Parker's first mask. Probably my only criticism of the film - but come on, don't film him sewing something red together then just stick him in a morph suit mask! Those things are everywhere, no one is being fooled here. At least Toby Maguire's looked like something he'd sewn himself as a prototype.

I am also a big Emma Stone fan, she's funny and beautiful and has a wonderful way of putting herself across. My only concern is that she's a little bit of a one trick pony; she wasn't really any different to Olive in Easy A. But whatever it is she's doing is working because I just love her. Although - ditch the blonde, love, you make a much better red head! Don't go down the LL route (with hair colour - the drugs side sort of goes without saying... I hope.)

The film was fantastic in 3D, one of the best uses I've seen of it actually. Although around the same length as the first one it wasn't tedious in the slightest. The reptile creature thing (Sorry, I have no idea what this villain is called, guessing it is actually supposed to be different to the Green Goblin) was great - and its regrowth made everything SO tense because I genuinely was terrified that they could never stop him. *Spoiler alert* They don't and everyone dies.

What do you do with a BA in English?

So my room is packed, my posters are down, the house is spotless (enough) and I'm laying on my bed waiting for my parents, listening to the Avenue Q soundtrack and feeling a little bit philosophical about everything.

Who remembers me a year ago? Yeah, what a dick that girl was. I'm not going to brood on that but those who know and love me will know that my bouncebackability has been fairly outstanding this year. To the point where perhaps I lost a little bit of my sanity and a LOT of my sleep but I've had an amazing year so I'm  definitely not complaining.

I'm feeling in a pretty excellent place right now. The room is only slightly spinning from the remnants of my last ever Jesters hangover. My voice is also slightly gruffer than usual and I'm pretty sure I've worn this tshirt everyday for the last week because I prematurely packed ALL my clothes. I also don't feel sad. I'm slightly heartbroken to leave my housemates; but after the year abroad I know that love knows no boundaries when it comes to distance. As my dad says (all the time, whenever you give him a second to speak), I have a lovely lot of friends and Southampton has been an amazing place to live for the last few years. But ultimately, I feel ready to leave. I'm excited to get back to my life in Essex... my friends from school, an Operatic society that solely raises my spirits (both kinds), not my blood pressure, my church, my family and my boyfriend.

Also on failing miserably to get a job this week, I have actually come to a sort of definite conclusion over what I want to do. Account manager. Ah shit, now I've said it in a blog its suddenly real. It's just not the same when you say it on Twitter or Facebook, they're far too frivolous and overused to be meaningful. But yeah; I think I'd be kick ass at it, and I enjoy things I'm good at so should be a winning combination!

It's weird now to think that I don't have a degree to do. Its a little bit like my life has been on hold for the last four years. Now I can focus on a whole myriad of things and hopefully be awesome at all of them.
These things include:
Getting my grade 8 piano
Learning about Account management
Getting better at Maths/arithmetic
Directing or producing a show
Getting a kick ass job
Saving up to buy a house

Lots of this is very grown up... but I like the idea of being grown up. It's fun because its new. I also need to learn when its has an apostrophe and when it doesn't. Word always seems to know better than me and I don't trust Blogspot to correct me.

Here's to us.


<3

The Farce

So after a few weeks I decided to sit down and watch The Voice.

As a programme I think it's a fantastic concept.  No judgements on look, purely on talent.

Except for the fact that after two minutes the judges know them, and from the very start the audience does too. Oh and the fact everyone who has been picked is already very talented and very attractive, even the "less" attractive ones have been made up too look stunning.

Although - Britain's Got Talent also does away with discrimination, and no one on X Factor over the age of 25 has ever won, because at the end of the day the image that accompanies does matter. So I would imagine by the end of this show the youngest, prettiest competitor will have the prize even if a fat, old ugly guy has a better voice. Proved by the fact that as soon as someone came on singing in a different genre; none of the pop tarts liked him

So what void is this programme filling in our lives?

Pretty much none. Apart from revealing how annoying Jessie J is (is there really any need for you to mouth along with every song? Yes we know you're a singer, you don't have to prove it by knowing some lyrics...). There's also the awful bitchy 'banter' between the judges where they try to prove they're better for the contestant that the others ('We're both girls and we can share shoes' is a personal favourite...).

I don't think the music industry needs to change. I think it is too inherent in everyone's mentality to judge people on their looks and how well they fit the mould. I think TV music competitions are over done and they are same-y. But they're entertaining and in fairness to them - they don't pretend to be something they're not. The Voice stops being The Voice as soon as the person comes on stage. This would work as a radio show maybe because you can't try to create a show based on talent alone unless you really are not going to show the person's face.

Yeah, I don't think I'll be watching much more of this, especially now the sob stories have started. Poor choice BBC.

Also: not enough Willabooby.

It's alright ladies! If your man is talented, it's okay if he beats the crap out of you!

Opinionated? Yes I am.
Particularly bothered about celebrity culture? No, I am not.
Feminist? No.
Care about the examples lead to our women and children? Yes I do.

Rihanna has just completely, probably irreparably, plummeted in my estimations.
It is one thing considering getting back with your boyfriend who beat you so publicly a few years back, but it is a completely different story to actually actively seek him out to make "sweet" music with him.

I am all for forgiveness, I am a very forgiving person and I believe that forgiveness is the key to accepting the situation and moving on with your life. However, there is always a line when it comes to things such as this. Domestic violence, whichever way round it happens, is not acceptable, and nobody, ESPECIALLY not celebrities should EVER make it seem like it is acceptable.

This is, in essence, what Rihanna is doing. I can vaguely understand her reasons for wanting to show rival fans that they are being adult about it; however it seems her main motivation is actually that Chris Brown is 'the hottest R&B artist right now' which basically says that she is putting her fame and success over her principles. And not only her principles, but the effect she will be having on all her young impressionable fans. Yes, forgiveness is noble, but to actively work with that person again just portrays the message that quite frankly, she is a huge mug and doesn't believe he was wrong.

Celebrities have a huge deal of responsibility, and yes I understand they have a lot of pressure put on them, but it is all part of the package and they have to deal with it. I feel the same contempt towards footballers who get paid beyond extortionate amounts of money just to cheat on their wives and spend time with prostitutes. What impression are they leaving for young, budding footballers?
Their lifestyles as well as their talents are plastered in the press, just like other people their actions have consequences. I'm not saying they shouldn't make mistakes but how they make up for those mistakes should be just as important.
Chris Brown is still not even allowed within 9m of Rihanna... So performing together would be interesting.

I think she should be ashamed of herself, for what she is saying for her gender and to her fans. For all those women and men who have been in abusive relationships and survived, I salute you. I cannot imagine how hard it must have been to deal with it; but I'm sure you got out with much more dignity and self respect than Rihanna has right now.

I am not a bad person; stop making me feel like one

This is probably going to be a slightly controversial blog. Only because if you do not know me then it may sound like I am being disrespectful or unsympathetic. I am not; this is just how I view it, please do not take it as a negative account.

My first gripe is with charity advertisements.
Of course I understand why charities exist, and I do not envy people who stand on streets trying to raise money. I know that many members of public are rude and ungrateful and I always endeavour to be that sort of person. However, what charities do not always understand is that there are thousands of charities, millions of people, and not all all of those have money.

I am a student. I work hard, and any extra money I have I use to buy food, the odd item of clothing or presents for my friends and family. I also put petrol my my nearly new green Mazda 2 - which I bought with money I inherited from my Grandmother. As I mention whenever someone challenges me on affording my car - I would swap it for my Grandma any day.
I do not live excessively, I do not feel I waste money and I work very hard for the money I do have. Each year I volunteer at a Christian Camp in Swanage, where, since the age of 16 I have donated at year £60 to their chosen charity. I did once end up speaking to a lovely man on the highstreet who was so nice I did end up donating to a deaf children's charity, however I cancelled my direct debit as at the time it came out when I had run out of money and I ended up being charged £30 by my bank on two occasions, which I simply could not afford.
When I have a full time job, one of the first things I am going to do is research charities, and chose one that is important to me and I feel needs my help, and I will set up a money or weekly direct debit to them. I promise that. However I am not financially secure enough to commit to this, especially as there's no predicting water bills or electricity bills when you're renting as a student, and you need to have spare cash in case (touch wood!) something integral, such as my laptop, decides to die.
So why on earth so I feel like I am picked on and victimised when I am in my own home? What right to television advertisers (particularly charity ones as they last longer and are more emotive than others) to make me feel like I am a terrible person because I am not giving a pound a week to a donkey charity, £3 a week to Water Aid and £5 a month to some sort of cancer charity? It's not because I don't care, it's because even if I did have the money I couldn't possible support ALL the charities.
Yes I realise the irony that I am in my own home with a television and such. But I am not going to live like I do not live in a Western society just because there are some people who do live in poverty. Nobody with the opportunity does that so it doesn't make it a bad person to do so either.

My second gripe is with Newsworthy-deaths reported in the press. Every single time a celebrity dies, a few people pipe up to say how everyone cries when one person dies, but when there's thousands of children dying in a third world country, or 6 soldiers die fighting for our country nobody cares.

This angers me for so many reasons. Firstly, when my grandmother died, I did not expect anyone who didn't know my grandmother to mourn her loss. Even if it had been in circumstances which had reached the press, I would not expect anyone to feel bad for her passing away.
The reason people publish about celebrities is because not only do they know them (not personally, clearly), but often their music/talent/presence has had a profound impact on somebody's life. Or even a small impact, because you like the song or you like a movie they were in.
Secondly, it's because these people are doing the same as the charity advertisers - making people feel like they are bad people. And worse still, people they actually know as well. I know a few people in the army, although no one I would consider a particularly close friend. However if someone I knew passed away or was killed, it would have an impact on me. I wouldn't necessarily cry, and I didn't cry when Heath Ledger or Stephen Gately died.

Humans are capable of empathy, but most of the time that is concentrated on parts of life you actually have a connection to. A girl was killed in a car accident round the corner from my ex-boyfriend, she went to a local grammar school and my dad knew one of her friends. I do not know her but I got a knot in my stomach when I heard the news. The same when sexual assaults happen in Southampton, I feel differently about those to ones that happen in other parts of the world.
This does not make me a bad person. It's just how human nature works.

Why do these things happen to me?

In light of it being a year since one of the most mortifying moments of my life I felt it necessary to share my wonderment as to why I attract such... well... odd attention.

The most mortifying moment of my life (haha I hear you laugh... you probably think you were there, but you weren't. Only one person I know was and believe me that was enough.

So, I'm casually walking down a street in Bilbao having enjoyed a delightful picnic on the top of a hill for Valentine's Day (was not in the slightest bit romantic... Friends win over V Day any day). And suddenly and elderly Spanish woman, accompanied by her husband, taps me on the shoulder and says "Eh... un hilo, un hilo..." Whilst my Spanish is pretty good by this point, I wasn't quite expecting someone to inform me about string... So very confused, the lovely old lady recruits another passing couple, who then surround me, whilst she bends down and breaks a hanging thread off my clothing. From my leggings to be precise. The arse end.
To make it all worse, she then HANDS ME BACK THE THREAD. Gee thanks, just what I always wanted. Meanwhile, Helen stands there in hysterics as I turn red and have one of those rare moments of speechlessness.

One event you may thing, in 21 years of existence, is not too bad. But no, there's more. There was the lady from the Mental health charity who approached me, and not my mother, at a showing of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest to see if I was interested in mental health. Maybe she thought I was a carer. There are also several strange fellows who approach me in bars and impress me with the fact they are from the Isle of Man. Not weird you say, well it is when you're stone cold sober and working there. There were a far few in Spain who would join me on public transport and spit at me through their gummy smiles. How do they all find me?

I think I get it from my father. One of my first memories is being on a tube at about the age of 6 (this is also a night I got into a cab with my Auntie and the driver didn't know where were were going, so my Auntie shouted 'FOLLOW THAT CAB!' at the car in front... high point of life I feel) and my dad was being filmed by a bunch of Romanian soldiers. They were lost, so my dad helped them out and paid for their tube tickets. Massive legend, but he was probably being stitched up for reality TV.

Perhaps the happiest weirdo I've ever stumbled across is my current housemate, who I affectionately call Wifey. The Cheese Story is the best story on the planet, and will go down through my family for generations if I have anything to do with it. I would write it here but I feel that 1. The wife would kill me, and 2. It's a much better story if I can tell you outloud.

Maybe it's my face, too approachable? Or maybe I just also look weird so these people feel they can relate to me. Either way, if the one in a million can be anything like some of the friends I have now, I'm pretty sure I can deal with not knowing why these things happen to me.

Mrs. DoAsYouWouldBeDoneBy

Literary reference and religious statement all in one.

I would like to point out, so it is on record on the interweb, that I am not one for religious debate. And no, my dearest atheists, this is not because I'm scared of discovering that I'm living a lie, or am worried I will be proved wrong.

No, my reason for this is because religion in itself causes enough problems in the world without it causing domestic disputes and tension among people I spend time with. For me, Christianity is something completely personal. The majority of my friends are not practising Christian, they are a variety of undecided, Jewish, agnostic, atheist, Buddhist and Muslim. And others, most likely.

If asked a well reasoned question from a friend who is curious to find out an answer, I am more than happy to oblige and tell them what I know, or do some research and get back to them. What I disagree with is people posing questions in order to spark up a debate or argument.

One thing I believe I cannot be accused of is forcing my religion on any body (feel free to tell me if I do seem to be doing this, it's unintentional and I would want to rectify it immediately). I tend to go to church at university alone, giving others the option to come with if they have expressed a desire to, but otherwise keeping it to myself. I never in a million years would pull someone up on a comment and tell them that due to their religious beliefs they are going to hell, or some other such condemnation.

So why on earth do some people not offer me the same courtesy?

This has been sparked my something today, but it is no means a personal dig at the person in question. It happens on a semi-regular basis and to be perfectly honest I do not understand it.

As a Christian, my morality and general attitude in life develops and improves each year. Certain people will tell you how forgiving I can be. In the last year I chose to forgive someone, even when every single other person I know say that if they had been in the same situation they would not have acted in a manner as gracious and pardoning as I did. I'm a very open minded individually, I can always find the positive in experiences and every day I thank God for the beautiful people I have been lucky enough to become friends with. Religious or not, I am so happy to know them.

As was proved with original sin, and pretty much the entire of the Old Testament... Humanity is not capable of perfection. There has been one man who lived a sinless life, and because he died on a cross, everyone has the opportunity to atone their sins.

So why, when I slip up, when I make a slight comment, when I drink too much or swear, am I chastised because this is against the principles I am supposed to be following? Why does it have to come down to a religious debate, but when people who aren't religious, or aren't ready or brave enough to proclaim themselves as so, do a similar thing they don't come under this judgement of others?

What are you to gain from telling a Christian they're doing badly at their job? Do you think they'll turn round and say "Actually yes you're right, I'd much rather be a judgemental, dirty mouthed, drunkard, I'll just give up religion"

No. Every mistake is a learning curve and I plan to improve for the rest of my life. I have been a Christian for six years now. It's not always easy. (Don't get me wrong, I'm not even slightly trying to imply my life as a Christian is even comparable to those who suffer religious persecution in other countries, or even within the UK). Sometimes it's difficult to tell someone new you go to church, or that you have been baptised or you believe in God. But every year I get better at it, and I believe a lot of people respect your honesty and openness.

I will never be perfect, but I can damn well try.

All I wanted to really say from this is that I would never use someones religious choices against them - So please do the same for me. And the other Christians or Muslims or Jews or whoever you know. Discussion is always healthy, to SHARE ideas and beliefs and ways of living. Your aim should NEVER be to make someone feel inferior or bad for their beliefs, nor should they do the same to you.

Everyone is entitled their beliefs, opinions and lifestyle choices. This is mind, I hope you have yours too. I also hope you have the means to express it in a way that makes you sound as if you believe you exist on the same level as every one else, even if you disagree with them.

God bless to all those who want it, good day to all those who do not.

Amsterdam - Where you can get unlimited ribs and they still give you mints with the bill...

So back in the throes of final year studentdom, already ill and therefore behind on my to do lists and self imposed schedule (yes I am a little Hermione Granger but it's fine). So I thought I'd procrastinate a little more to share my thoughts on my recent trip to Amsterdam with best friend 4eva Sam Phelps.

My second trip to Amsterdam was always going to be different from the first. Knowing where I was going, knowing what to expect and having some sort of idea of what I wanted to do, not to mention going with one guy compared with 5 girls definitely changes how things roll.

Firstly, my travel advice is to never ever decide to go for an early flight. You do not "get a whole extra day of holiday" you just arrive groggy and tired. And baring mind my travel companion is next to useless with directions, if I hadn't already known roughly where I was going, lostness would have ensued very quickly.

Amsterdam is definitely one of my favourite cities; this time a visit to the Heineken museum and undertaking a fantastic three hour walking tour my admiration for the place has increased tenfold (as has my appreciation of beer). They are definitely a vain sort of people, but the Dutch seem to have a lot of reason to think they are the coolest people in the world: naming themselves things like "Ballsack" to spite a French king? Promising Church towers and never delivering because they 'ran out of money' after building beautiful building for mail and stuff? That's the kind of humour I can definitely appreciate.

The quirkyness of the city is also fantastic. There are 600,000 bikes in a population of 800,000 and many buildings were purposefully made crooked because architects didn't click that making the bar at the top longer would actually be a more elegant solution to winching heavy goods to the top of narrow houses.

Obviously their liberal attitude towards drugs and sex is something to be in awe of. I saw awe, just because it can be put with "ful" or "some" to mean completely the opposite thing. I'm not entirely sure I agree the prostitutes are entrepreneurs, BUT I can understand the attitude that the police have biggest fish to fry, so regularly do.

All these things make me love the city, the people and food are both fantastic. Everyone is friendly and charismatic and you can buy unlimited ribs from as little as €10.

All this said... Could I live there?

In all honesty I really don't think I could. As much as I have enjoyed every second I spent in Amsterdam both years I went - I have literally no complaints, even the weather doesn't bother me, the city just isn't me. I can be free and fun and liberal while I'm there, but in reality... I like lists and hard work and rules. I'm not alternative, and I don't really think that besides the odd city break like this it's really something that factors into my personality.

I'm not saying this is a bad thing, far from it. I'm not too pompous to enjoy myself and appreciate how awesome life is there, I just think I would find it tiring and would long for a bit of British normality.

Maybe I'm just a bit boring. But, I got my unlimited ribs so I could die happy now whether or not that's true.

A new year, a new blog

Ah, New Years. I think this year we actually need to worry more about blog sites and opinion forums crashing than telephone networks. Everyone I know seems to be fairly pensive at the moment so I thought, why not join in.

I kept a blog fairly sporadically last year. I haven't taken it down because the majority of the last 18 months of my life were the toughest of my life and I want to keep it there so I can remind myself of how far I've come since those dark times. If you're feeling like you need a bit of catharsis then you can look at it at www.jeffers20.blogspot.com. 

I don't really see the point in New Years resolutions. The things I want to acheive in life are all things I want to have in the long term, so promising myself in January I will have acheived it by December is ridiculous, and opens me up to letting myself down, which isn't a good time.

So let's have a look at what I wanted to achieve last  year, see how much of it I managed and how I can work towards it:

1. Do not let Malaga beat you. : No Malaga did not beat me. I didn't necessarily beat it, but damnit. I finished my year, I passed every single one of my exams and I can honestly say I enjoyed the last two months. Partly due to my gorgeous friends visiting me but that's by the by. I hope never to have to go through an experience like that again

2. Make lists and keep a diary until you are blue in the face. You know for a fact you work better that way and it will be worth the effort in the end. : Lists rock. I literally can't do anything without them now.

3. Go to Italy, go to Norway, go to Madrid and go to Poland. Do at least one of these by yourself. : I actually went to Norway and Bilbao. But I did the first one on my own. I want to always be able to afford a city break each year of my life.

4. Learn to budget and stick to it. : By this time next year I hope to have a full time job. Winging it has worked so far so I'm just going to close my eyes and hope for the best.

5. Use your grant money to buy a guitar and teach yourself to play it. : I will do this at some point

6. Swear less. You're a nice girl, you don't need to have such a dirty dirty mouth. : I did this for lent. It was hard and I haven't stuck to it. You're all just going to have to love and accept my filthy language.

7. Go for runs at least twice a week. Do sit up regime every other day. : PAH. Dream on.

8. Do NOT do that again, line has been drawn; stay on the right side of it. : DONE

9. Talking of lines, remember to stay on the sane side of that other line. : It took me a further four and a half months. But on the 18th of April, despite in many ways being the worst day of my life, I managed to draw this line in permanent marker and every day I feel better and better and I am shedding the old skin of hatred that came with the entire situation. Things aren't perfect but I feel like I've come out on top and whilst I feel it's a fairly bittersweet victory I am proud of myself and consider myself to have some of the best best friends a girl could ever dream of.

10. Stop letting other people rule your actions, opinions and emotions. Do what you want to do, and be less of a pathetic mess doing it. : I think I actually need to dial this now. I seem to have lost my knack of empathy a lot of the time. I probably need to worry less.

So not an overly unsuccessful year. Once back in the UK I managed to slowly pull my sanity back together. I have had the pleasure of working with some absolutely gorgeous people at South Essex College and Waitrose, and still continue to work with those at Sobar and at the uni. I have absolutely adored being Academic President so far this year and I hope I can make a real difference in the next 6 months. Hopefully in the next few months I will start to get through to second round job interviews and maybe even find employment; who knows. I'll see where the wind takes me. And as much as I hate to admit it, Rob Stow is pretty damn fantastic.

At the moment I'm pretty happy living at 100mph and I think 2012 is going to be a good one. Thank you to everyone who's played a part in my life this year, the new and the old. I love you all dearly.

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