I've just started reading One Day. I hate reading a book after seeing the film because it ruins it for me. Books made into films invariably miss out huge chunks, massive, important plotlines (one example: Frankenstein. If you like the book, don't see the film. You'll hate it). So, I wanted to read this first. Because I know I'm going to see the movie...mainly because I'm a sucker for a good love story, but also because I have a massive girl crush on Anne Hathaway.
And I'm in love with it already. I love diving into the world of Dexter and Emma. When I'm reading it, I feel like I can see them in front of me, such is the quality of David Nicholls' writing. I can hear Emma's rich Yorkshire accent and Dexter's corny faux-Cockney one. I can almost...associate myself with them. When Dexter left his copy of Howards End in that bar in India, found by a fat German, with that letter to Emma tucked into the cover, I wanted to cry at the wonderful, bittersweet thought of what could've been. I'm up to 1994 now. I can't wait to read the rest, even if it does bring me to tears.
I don't read enough anymore. My world has been taken over by the Internet, my iPhone and music. I miss feeling the weight of a good book in my hands, feeling that the words in the book could possibly just change my life.
So, I've made a promise to myself. I'm going to read more. I NEED to read more.
BUT. I don't know what to read. So, suggestions are welcome :)
When I am older and have more money, my entire home will be furnished by Ikea.
I ventured over to the desolate wasteland otherwise known as Southampton with Kara and her boyfriend yesterday to get some new stuff for my room. I'd already bought some stuff from there online and it was in pride of place in my room. But, like an addict craving a fix, I wanted more.
My room now looks like this:
(big cushion, throw, bedside table & fairy lights from Ikea)
It is now a place I love to spend time in, despite it being constantly freezing. And I want to make my home like that.
I want this to snuggle up with my man on and watch movies:
I want this to curl up on, listen to music and read a good book:
"Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) (previously known as dysmorphophobia is sometimes referred to as body dysmorphia or dysmorphic syndrome) is a (psychological) somatoform disorder in which the affected person is excessively concerned about and preoccupied by a perceived defect in his or her physical features (body image)."
I hate this disease so much. I don't have it, never have. But a couple of my friends suffer from it and I hate it so much.
I hate that they can't see how beautiful they are.
I hate that this weak, cowardly disease is ruining their relationships with other people.
It's frustrating being the friend of someone with BDD - you're constantly trying to convince them that they're beautiful, gorgeous, skinny but they won't listen. This little gremlin they've got inside their head won't let them. Constantly whispering that they're fat, and that they're ugly and making them hate what they see in the mirror.
Look at this girl. Beautiful, ain't she? She's also a right little skinny minnie. I wish I looked like her, wish I had a body like hers. She has a boyfriend who adores her, would do anything for her, tells her she's beautiful all of the time. Yet, this horrible disease doesn't let her believe it. I hope to God she starts believing soon. Because she deserves to so much. She is one of the most beautiful people I know, inside & out, and I want her to see that so much.
I adore it. I know I shouldn't, I know it's trash TV, but it's oh-so addictive. Last series, we saw Caggie, Spencer & Funda in the hottest love triangle known to man. We saw Hugo & Millie finally get together, whilst Rosie seethed with jealousy. We saw Gabby, with her massive jaw and Ollie, with his massive hair, split up - Gabby shed many a tear, whilst the MiC-watching, unwashed public exclaimed "Finally!" when Ollie revealed that he was, in fact, bisexual. Like we didn't know that already? And how can we forget the extremely disturbing proposition that Francis & Fredrik "share" the beautiful and unobtainable Agne? The series ended with Millie & Hugo disgustingly happy and the exquisite Caggie jetting off to New York in an effort to get Spencer out of her head and her life.
And now it's back. Two episodes in and we've already got 3 new characters to spy on: Jamie - heir to the McVities fortune & ridiculously reckless with money, Chloe - Ollie's new girlfriend, daughter of Topshop tycoon Phillip Green & then we've got Louise - an ex of Spencer's, they have now decided to do the whole 'friends-with-benefits' thing (which I couldn't be more happy about because it meant they got to show this sublime picture of Spencer topless):
(I'm just going to take a minute here and drool over that picture - the short hair suits him...omnomNOM)
And Caggie's back. Oh, Caggie (is that short for anything? Or is that her real name? It seems to be too ridiculous to be real...). I love Caggie. She's funny, she's gorgeous & she's clever. She is everything most girls want to be.
I can't wait for next week's episode - the highlights looked amazing (I mean, Millie throwing a drink in Hugo's face - what could be more amusing?) - and I absolutely cannot wait to see Spencer's reaction to Caggie's return. It's gonna be a good 'un, that's for damn sure.
"Members of legendary US rock band REM have announced they are splitting up after 31 years.
"We have decided to call it a day as a band," the band said . "To anyone who ever felt touched by our music, the deepest thanks for listening."
The group found fame with a string of albums, notably 90s hits Out of Time and Automatic for the People.
The band's website was unavailable on Wednesday afternoon when the announcement was made.
Three of REM's albums in the 1990s went quadruple platinum in the US, according to the Recording Industry Association of America (RIIA).
REM's latest album, Collapse into Now, was released in March 2011. It was their 15th studio album.
The group was originally made up of singer Michael Stipe, guitarist Peter Buck, bassist Mike Mills and Bill Berry who left the band in 1996.
"I hope our fans realise this wasn't an easy decision; but all things must end, and we wanted to do it right, to do it our way," Stipe said as he announced the split.
The band was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2007."
- Taken from BBC News website
This makes me sad :( REM were basically my soundtrack to the summer of 2007. They just remind me of chilling outside on gorgeous, balmy, lazy summer nights. My sister got married that summer and Nightswimming was her first dance, so we listened endlessly to In Time. It was always in the car, on the stereo at home, on my iPod. I was always listening to them, some nights falling asleep to The Great Beyond or All the Way to Reno. I'd never listened to any album as much as I listened to In Time that summer. I could listen to that album the whole way through and not have to skip a track - they were all amazing. Plus, I love Best Of albums...I love the way you can hear bands develop
Anyway, this is my favourite REM song of all though...At My Most Beautiful <3
I've found a way to make you,
I've found a way,
A way to make you smile
I read bad poetry
Into your machine.
I save your messages,
Just to hear your voice.
You always listen carefully
To awkward rhymes.
You always say your name,
Like I wouldn't know it's you
At your most beautiful
I've found a way to make you,
I've found a way,
A way to make you smile.
At my most beautiful,
I count your eyelashes secretly.
With every one, whisper "I love you".
I let you sleep.
I know you're closed eye watching me,
Listening.
I thought I saw a smile.
I've found a way to make you,
I've found a way,
A way to make you smile.
So here's to Michael, Peter & Mike - thanks for the good times, guys. Your music has evoked more emotions in me than you'll ever know.
...how the littlest thing can change your mood? This time yesterday, I was under the blackest of black clouds - I was in the foulest mood ever and I don't feel like I was nice to be around. Today, however, I'm buzzing. And all because of one thing - my hair. My hair hardly ever does what I want it to do but today, it was the most well-behaved hair you ever did see. When it dried naturally, it went all gorgeously ringlet-y and curly...like this:
Then when I combed it, it went all gorgeously wavy....like this:
And, just like that, I'm in a massively good mood. All because my hair looks good today. Warning to all men: us women are fickle creatures.
Now I'm off to look up recipes for cheesecakes...the Great British Bake Off has left me craving them...ta ta!
...it was a good one. Saturday, woke up early and watched the rugby in bed with tea & toast. It was good ^___^ Then, unfortunately, developed quite severe stomach pain - so horrible it left me unable to walk, but not so bad I required hospitalisation (I've had that before, back in February. It was not nice), so Saturday afternoon was spent curled up on the sofa under my duvet, in the foetal position, cursing whichever deity had bestowed this upon me. I also spent that following the saga that was a) my team falling apart at the seams and b) our chairman performing what I can only describe as "a Delia". Extremely embarassing.
Luckily, by the evening, the pain had passed and I jumped on the bus into town to see my friends and have a night in the pub with pool and epic games of table football. It was awesome. My gorgeous friend Lenny brought along her equally gorgeous new Italian boyfriend Gianmarco, Rach & Haz were there, Farrow was there (and spent most of the night tickling me <__<) and it was just all round a brilliant night. I miss having nights like that with my friends.
Sunday was good as well. Woke up nice & early and spent most of the morning in bed watching crap telly. My brother went out and bought us Subway, having gone out the night before and being disgustingly hungover. What with it being an absolutely gorgeous day and everything, we chose to...go to our Dad's and watch the cricket/football/F1. It was a good Sunday. I adore Sundays like that. Just doing nothing but watching sport is my idea of perfection. Back home for a roast and then an early night.
(not that having an early night helped...still woke up with a migraine...haven't had one in months and I always forget how debilitating that is. Spent most of today in bed.)
And now, I'm watching more football (there's a cat at Loftus Road!) and in 23 minutes, I will promptly be turning over to E4 to watch One Tree Hill and text Kara all the way through it, like the big girls we are xD
So, that time of year has come and gone and I am now counting down the days to the next one...my festival, my second home...Reading. This year, I was celebrating my fifth anniversary of working there, for the amazing CATs/Hotbox Events. And my, how the years have gone. It all started in 2006 - I arrived clueless and scared, but settled in with two really nice guys on my team, in awe of the people that were staff there already and how effortlessly cool they seemed.
2007 - went there with two friends, both of which had never been there before, and still feeling clueless and scared but a bit less so, knowing I wasn't the only one.
2008 - I was there on my own and feeling supremely confident about it. I knew people there, I knew my way around - it wasn't so scary any more. Got put on pretty much the best team in the world - the Helpful Arena Team...yep, that pretty much meant walking around the arena, seeing if anyone needed any help or sitting at our booth at the back by the NME Stage. Also meant seeing Feeder, Tenacious D, Metallica. Bloody good year.
2009 - I was promoted to shift assistant, having received a glowing report from my shift supervisor from the previous year. Cue head expanding massively. Cue head rapidly deflating when I realised that meant me & my shift supervisor Rob had to walk around the entire site at least twice during an 8 hour shift. Highlights from that year: cutting through the arena on the Wednesday night shift - completely untouched - and then walking through the backstage area, seeing Mr "FUCKING READING 09!!!" on the same shift (basically, a skinhead in a pink dressing gown, shouting FUCKING READING 09!!!! and LotR quotes) and getting a lift back from Control with Fiona, the campsite manager, and actually going THROUGH the backstage area in her car, while there were numerous bands & celebs milling about. Low light? Doing my knee in whilst watching the Prodigy :( Bad times.
2010 - promoted to paid staff! Office admin assistant, which basically meant entering tabard numbers into a spreadsheet, answering questions from the CATs and listening to kick-ass music on my manager's laptop...which I didn't realise I was allowed to do until the last day. I was so worried about fucking up and not being invited back that I daren't put a foot wrong.
2011 - back to Reading, back as office admin and back in the place that I like to call home. Unfortunately this year, due to the arena being made bigger, we were shifted all the way over to White, after being in Yellow for the first four years...this was a Big Deal. White is basically the furthest place you can get to on-site. About a mile away from the arena - not a big deal, you think. No, not normally. But when you're trekking through ankle-deep mud and trying to avoid drunk, over-excited, 16 year old scene kids, it can take for-bloody-ever. Despite this, it was a good year, even if I only managed to see two acts - Frank Turner and my beloved Muse <3 Frank Turner has won my heart. To see a man so honest and so likeable in music nowadays is a rarity. I now absolutely adore him. Muse, I had to pull a few strings to see - I was meant to be working from 4pm to 1am, meaning I would've missed Muse completely. Now Amii, the lovely woman I job-share with, kindly offered to swap that part of the shift with me, sacrificing her want to see them for me. And I will love her forever for that. Because Muse were phenomenal. They played Origin of Symmetry, my favourite Muse album, in it's entirety to celebrate it's 10th anniversary. And it was amazing. They then played their tried and tested crowd pleasers and, all in all, it was one of the best Muse shows I've ever seen. That was the last night, and I had to go back and work some more, in the freezing cold, listening to people having fun.
I got home at 4:10 on Monday, aching all over, no doubt a little bit whiffy and extremely tired. I collapsed on the chair at home, thankful for soft furnishings and central heating and my TV, but also feeling extremely sad because Reading was over. And I will miss it terribly until next year. And who knows what that will bring.
So, they wisdom comes with age, right? Wrong. I'm a year older and I don't feel any wiser.
My birthday was on Saturday, when I turned the grand old age of 23. It was a good day...for the most part. The morning was spent curled up in the bath, wishing the crippling pains that come with being a woman away. The afternoon was much better. I went to watch Bournemouth play and win 2-0, against one of the teams favoured for promotion. That was good. I then went out in the evening, with my best friends in the whole world and had an amazing night, full of dancing and drinking and random little chats. I then had a hangover that could fell a whole HERD of elephants, let alone a small one.
Anyway, back to my original point. Wisdom does not come with age. Just over a year ago, I met someone who turned out to be quite a big part of my life for a year and is no longer a part of my life at all. People close to me know who he is, became sick of hearing his name about 6 months ago, and dislike him for "wronging" me. Me? I don't dislike him. This is hard to say, but it was quite the opposite for a while. I won't go as far as saying I was in love with him, but it definitely heading that way. Now, I don't feel anything. Except for a bit lost.
I'm not going to go into details, into the whys and the wherefores, but all I can say is I'm not wiser about anything. I still can't work out men, I can't work out what goes on inside their heads. In fact, if anything? I'm pretty much more clueless than I did this time last year. No wiser. At all.
So, if any of you blokes reading this could give any input, that'd be great. Really. I know I can't tar you all with the same brush, but I need someone to prove to me that you aren't all bad.
I love that feeling when you listen to a band you absolutely adore for the first time in ages.
For me, tonight, that's Snow Patrol.
Say what you like about them, say they're boring, depressing. Yeah, say that and then go and listen to Chocolate - one of my favourite songs by them - and you will see just how wrong you are. It's uplifting and beautiful and Gary Lightbody's voice is just...gorgeous.
I know this is going to sound corny, but they've got me through a lot - Final Straw damn near saved my life in 2004, when my cousin died. It made me think...if music can be this beautiful, there's got to be something worth living for.
Eyes Open is...well, I can't even think of the words to describe how this album makes me feel. Desperately sad, yet exhilarated would just about cover it, I think. Open Your Eyes is such a gorgeously sad song. You Could Be Happy breaks my heart every time I hear it. But Shut Your Eyes is full of hope and is just beautiful. You're All I Have puts a smile on my face whenever I hear those guitars crash in.
A Hundred Million Suns, whilst different from their early material, is just as good. It received mixed reviews however. Some extremely harsh, some glowing. This is one of my favourites of their five albums. It shows just how much they developed as a band and how they were able to take on other influences, yet leave their own unique stamp on the music. Set Down Your Glass is so beautifully simple and so full of love (I've already decided it's going to be my first dance when I get married...my future husband doesn't get a say, the unlucky bastard). The Lightning Strike is just...incredible. A sixteen minute epic of gorgeous music. I adore it.
I adore their second album, When It's All Over We Still Have To Clear Up. I've only recently started to listen to it and I could honestly listen to it over and over again. Batten Down The Hatch, Make Love To Me Forever? Gorgeous songs, absolutely gorgeous.
That's pretty much all I can say about them. I adore them. And now, I'm going to leave you with my favourite song, the aforementioned Set Down Your Glass <3
OK, so this idea was given to be yesterday by the epic @kase85 (or Gareth, if you want to use his real name *rolls eyes*). I don't often go on YouTube, but when I do, I always want to watch this video.
This is Muse at Reading Festival 2006. My first ever festival and the first time I ever saw, or even properly listened to, Muse. And as soon as they opened with Knights of Cydonia, I knew this was going to be a long and tortuous love affair ("Tortuous?", I hear you ask incredulously. Yes, tortuous. Being on your feet and getting buffeted about for eight hours can be extremely painful).
I was...in awe of Matt Bellamy. His talent, his stage presence, just everything about him, I loved. When I watch this video back, even after five years, it still always manages to give me tingles. That roar of recognition and joy that goes up from the crowd when he plays those first few bars always sends a delicious shiver up and down my spine. Because I was there. At the time, this was the only Muse song that I recognised and knew and loved and I was overjoyed to finally be able to sing my heart out to something. I liked being part of something that big.
Since that first performance, I've seen Muse four more times - Wembley in 2007, NIA in Birmingham in 2009, and at Glastonbury, then again at Wembley in 2010 - and each time I've seen them, I've fallen a little bit more in love with their music and them. Chris Wolstenholme is my bass idol - I mean, that opening riff to Hysteria has to be seen to be believed. Dom Howard is so wonderfully zany and such and incredible drummer. And Matt Bellamy...well, what more could I say about him? He's amazing.
Muse have been a massive part of my life - they've brought me together with people and got me through rough patches. And I will be eternally grateful for that.
I am at a loss as at what to turn this blog into - after my Amy post, which I was pretty damn proud of, I can't think of anything to write.
You see, I have two passions in my life - music and football. And I want to combine the two - I don't want this blog to be all about the trials and tribulations about being an AFC Bournemouth fan (and let's be honest, this season is no doubt going to be full of them, as it always is). I don't want to write constantly about music, new bands, favourite bands, favourite songs. Because if you knew me, you'd know this: I hate listening to new bands, my favourite band of all time is Muse and my favourite song is....well, it's a toss-up between the Muse version of Feeling Good, Exogenesis Symphony Part 1, Time is Running Out, Unintended & Starlight (haha, I know...shut up). Yes, music does make me feel...euphoric and devastated and giddy all at the same time. But then so does football. I could easily compare the joy I, and many other Bournemouth fans, had when Danny Ings scored what should've been the winning goal at Huddersfield and effectively putting us in the play-off final to going to watch Muse at Wembley, with someone else who loves them as much as I do, and hearing them launch into Starlight and singing along with 90,000 other people.
I can't just...write. I can't go "Hey, this is the subject, this is what I want to say" and then...just do it. I mean, it has now taken me roughly and hour and three quarters to write this post because I keep on...deleting things and rewriting things. I don't have enough faith in my writing. I've been told I'm good. I just don't have the attention span to sit down and write something. I will get distracted by something. Facebook, Twitter, some other random social networking site. That's just me!
I'm gonna finish this now. Two hours on a blog post that's only 350-odd words long is depressing!
We all knew she led a troubled life. We all knew she was speeding to oblivion. However, we were still all shocked to hear the news that Amy Winehouse, the 27 year old soul singer with an amazing voice and a fucked up life, had passed away at her North London home. When I heard, I thought it was a sick joke, a hoax. First, I noticed the news trickling into a couple of tweets. Then I turned on the news and there it was - confirmed. Yet another talented life taken way before her time.
Say what you like about her lifestyle, say her death isn't as tragic as others, but bear this in mind - she was still a daughter. A sister. A friend. People have still lost a massive part of their lives and hearing this bile being spouted about her is not helping. An addiction is an illness. It is not, as many people have said, a choice. Yes, the initial action is a choice. But the following addiction, the craving, the feeling that you would do anything to have that fix is not. The act of going to rehab was proof she wanted to escape that life, stop the never-ending circle of addiction. Some people, I know, will disagree with that. But that's fine. Disagree with this all you want. But I truly believe that she was trying to escape that vicious cycle.
It's sad to think that her last performance was that shambolic, drunken mess in Belgrade, it's heart-breaking to think that that's how she will be remembered and not as the amazing performer she once was. Frank was an brilliant début album - Back to Black was even better. Her voice, that soul-laden, beautiful voice, sounded full of pain, full of longing. But this album was truly her downfall. This album sky-rocketed her to stardom and farther into the dark world of drugs, addiction and the people feeding both of them. Most people will say that her downfall was brought around by her on-off relationship with Blake Fielder-Civil, whom Amy married in 2007, a year after the album's release and who was, by all accounts, a waster and someone who fed off Amy's vulnerability and fame. She had been quoted as saying that their whole marriage was "based on drugs" and more people that have spoken out after her death have been saying that before Blake she was fine - after him, she was fucked.
But let's forget that. Put on Back to Black as loud as you can without disturbing the neighbours. And just listen. And remember what an amazing performer she was. Remember her as that and not the pictures of the body-bag being shamelessly flaunted on the Daily Mail website.
RIP Amy Winehouse - 14th September 1983-23rd July 2011.
So, like I said, weekends are good - especially 3 day ones :D
Thursday = epic, Harry Potter themed party at Rach's new house ^__^ Lots of drinking and chatting with people I've never met before (and maybe one tactical chunder...but you don't need to know about that...). I actually had a brilliant night. There were just the right amount of people there - enough to make it fun, but not so many that it got annoying. Highlights of the evening? Someone spotting that I'd gone as Moaning Myrtle, Ring of Fire in the games room, getting many lovely hugs.
Friday = hungover. Bleurgh. Says it all really, dunnit? Awoke at about 9ish after going to sleep at half 4 with a hangover big enough to fell a small elephant. Service station on way home for delicious hangover noms. Then back home with more noms and an afternoon of Green Wing <3 Followed by an awkward night with old school friends (I should say awkward hour...I bitched out because I was so bloody tired from the night before). Then more Green Wing until about half 3 with the little bro...it was getting light outside when we went to bed. Not good.
Saturday = chilled. Woke up at 12, went to see Kara for a few hours, then back home to me Dad's with the most epic steak in the world and Paul on Sky Box Office :D Good day was good.
So yeah. Hope you enjoyed my blow by blow account of my weekend :D I'm bored as fuck. More people need to be online at 1am so I can talk to them.
'Nother good day was had today ^_^ Chilling out in the morning, town in the afternoon, beach in the evening. Good times. So "why the sad face?", I hear you ask. Because the beach thing was half a birthday thing for Kara and half a goodbye thing for Haz, who is moving up to London for a year :( It makes me feel so sad that he isn't going to be here any more. No more random meeting up at the football, no more random nights in the pub, no more drunken nights in at my house. For. A. Year.
So Mr Harry Francis - don't get up to any bad stuff in London, like drugs and shit, mmkay? And don't forget your small town friends ;)
Ah, I really can't think of anything else. Going to the beach always makes me feel sleepy *yawns*
Right, so I thought I’d get this going somewhere else! To those of you who haven’t read my Tumblr (if you have…well done. It was dull), I think I’ll introduce myself with a few choice facts about me:
1.) My name’s Daisy. No, please don’t sing the song. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON’T SING THE SONG.
2.) I’m 22, soon to be 23. To me, that feels old, considering my little brother has just turned 21 and my friends are all approaching their 22nd birthdays.
3.) I love music. Like, seriously love it. However, I’m not interested in new bands, unless they’ve been recommended by NME (lol, jk). But seriously, I am stuck in a rut, music wise. But it’s my rut and I love it. No-one else is allowed in my rut. Unless you love Muse. Then you can come in.
4.) I love football. But only lower league football. MASSIVE AFC Bournemouth fan - if you cut me, I’m sure I’d bleed red and black. Show me a Premiership match and I may be forced to kill you. Unless it’s the mighty Villa. Then you may be allowed to live.
5.) Going back to the Villa thing, no, I don’t support them needlessly. That’s where I was born. Well, not actually AT Villa Park (that‘d be weird), but in Sutton Coldfield - apparently, the Villa side of Birmingham. And also because my sister was a massive Manchester Utd fan when she was younger and forced Villa on me. Blame her.
6.) I have some…odd personality traits. I over-think things. A LOT. I get irritated very easily, as my family will tell you. However, there will be times when all I want to do is have a cuddle. I mood swing like a bitch.
Erm…that’s pretty much it! Hope you enjoy reading this. Can’t guarantee that every post will light up the world or make you think. But I hope they make you laugh…just a little.
