Desperately seeking a boyfriend. (Lol, jk.)

Last time I checked I have been single for, approximately, 6 months. I am  aware a certain proportion of you will have gasped already. Take a second, breathe and relax. Yep, that's right: 6 months. 
182 days. 
4382 hours. 
262974 minutes. 
Granted it does sound a lot longer in minutes...

You will undoubtedly question why I'm informing you of my single life progress, almost as if it bothers me and I keep freakish tabs on it. And for those that pondered, no I didn't sit here and work out the days, minutes and hours. Google helped me. I don't have that much free time on my hands. 

Well I guess there's two reasons for bringing it up. First of which, I'm extremely excited about Bridget Jones' Diary 3 coming out (the topic matter relates). My second reason, which really links to my excitement about Bridget Jones, is to ask the world dearly to stop asking about my 'love life'. Maybe not the world, but you'll know who you are if you're reading this. Yes, you.

You'd think I were a spinster, locked away in a rural house knitting and my only company being my cat and the postman that delivers the post once a fortnight. I'm a girl. I'm 19. I still take pride in my appearance. And I leave my house on a regular basis. There really is nothing to worry about. I know I joked about being 80, single and living with cats in a previous post (click here to read it), but I almost feel the need to emphasise the comedic stance of that post.

I know so many people that have this overruling desire and aim in life to constantly be on 'boyfriend lookout'. People that can't survive without a co-dependent in their life and, well, I think that's sad. 

I used to think being in a relationship was the coolest thing in the world. It gives you a bit of routine, it gives you someone to talk to on a regular basis, it's what I consider to be a safe state to be in. And of course I'm not saying I don't ever want that again, I just have come to realise there's more to life than making the bed after a boyfriend that never helps out. Hahaha. What a stereotype. Of course I am JOKING - some boys are very well house trained. You get my jist though, I've just got some new priorities in life.

So far in my 4382 hours of free time I have decided some goals and changed my outlook towards achieving them. For one I'm setting aside my twenties to do the things I want to do. And maybe that will mean for a portion of it I don't want someone tying me down. I'm not saying they would necessarily stop me doing what I want to do, but if I've got someone who's not permanently fixed (as opposed to family) close to me it'd would only add to the factors of how I could talk myself out of taking risks and going places.

I also quite want to learn a new language. I loved French, and I still do, but due to (boring) reasons I couldn't continue it as a wild option at uni. So maybe I'll polish that up. Maybe I'll learn a new language. I have always loved everything Scandinavian so it'd be cool to (emphasis on the try) learn Swedish or Norwegian. 

So I hopefully won't end up like Bridget. I'm a firm believer in 'never say never'. If the right boy comes along, I'm yours. I'm just not rushing into anything for the sake of it. CBA for all that pointless emotional malarchy.

The girl speaks sense

All the things you start off with in life are given to you by somebody else. Your birth may be the start of your personal story, but you're thrown midway into a different and developed story. You have to be brave and try to start again. It might be a little scary. Not many people say ‘let’s start life over and do it again the way I want to.’

 

The paralysis of life

Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?

I'd like to say this happens rarely, but it's becoming more and more frequent that I wonder about my life. I lead a somewhat straight forwardly simple life - this isn't to deny its value however - and sometimes I wonder, am I doing it because I like it, or because fear gets in the way?

Undoubtedly for me the scariest part is not in asking such a question,  it's the fear of getting an answer. I don't really want an answer. Time is on my side. I'm young and independent and free. The one thing I do know though, is that I don't want to wake up middle aged asking myself the very same question.  

I want to experience the deafening sound of water crashing down Angel Falls, I want to lounge in the Blue Lagoon geothermal spa, to see first hand the Aurora Borealis and I want to spend time abroad learning a new language.

Possessing such a list isn't greed, and it surely should not be considered to be too expectant. The stark reality is that seeing life through a television screen, or scattered across pages of a magazine doesn't satisfy my appetite.

My hunger is growing and I yearn for reality. 

I'll 'have it all', please.

Say, for example, you hear a really crazy and shocking statistic, well it normally sticks in your mind because it's really quite out of the ordinary. So I'm not quite sure how I managed to bypass remembering the outstandingly low and, to me, disproportionate figure that only 3% of the young female population aspire to be a boss. THREE PERCENT?! I hear you say/cry/weep. Yep, you heard me right, it genuinely really is that low. (According to my bible of all sources, Grazia magazine.) 

I went to an all girls school, and I would go so far to say that I think my feminist stances are causally related to my educational upbringing. I'll never forget being told "you are the women of the future". So in that sense I'm a real pro-women-achieving-the-top-of-their-career-and-having-the-bestest-and-most-perfect-family-life type of person, a modern-day feminist some might say. I'm no bra burner, but I most definitely advocate the position that women should be financially independent. Love doesn't always last, just saying.

I'm not necessarily saying that the whole 'having it all' idealised scenario is achievable for every person, primarily due to subjective life choices and unexpected babies and far from perfect financial situations. The list is exhaustive. However, I think the key difference in current society is that while you may not want to be top of your career whilst balancing home life and everything that goes with it, you have the choice. Choice. The word that suffragettes once dreamed of, and 'tis now a common place reality for females. 

In my Political Philosophy module I recently learned of a term stemming from Utilitarianism known as 'adaptive preferences'. (Utilitarianism, in it's most basic decision-making form is 'the greatest good for the greatest number' - google it if you wish to know more, it's interesting stuff). Anyhow, adaptive preferences are the result of  a situation whereby people who cannot achieve a desired goal gradually lose their desire for it. This may be the case that you forego your career to have a child and then front the "well I didn't want a career anyway" card. Where everyone is thinking, well actually.. you kinda did. Of course, this could be true vice-versa where you miss out on the chance of having children in order to climb the career ladder. Adaptive preferences are based around how it would be disappointing to live with an unsatisfied preference, perhaps of 'having it all', and so in order to deal with this disappointment it is a way of persuading oneself that the unattainable goal was not worth seeking in the first place. 

Naturally, this got me thinking. The philosophical, and thus hazy, realistic conclusion that I came to is that I think many people live their lives in denial of their primary goals, for many reasons. Life gets in the way of the big dreams you start with, and if you're not careful it can pop every dream you had. Naturally not everyone's goals in life are to achieve managerial status in their workplace but everyone has a dream they aspire to and I think it's really important, more so in the face of these tough economic times, to keep the dream going and to strive to 'have it all' in your own personal interpretation of what 'all' is to you.

"The Gulf War Did Not Take Place"

Jean Baudrillard, a French philosopher and sociologist, once made the profound statement that "The Gulf war did not take place". Some thought it genious, others dismissed this as a sensationalist headline grabber sparked by a continental philosopher searching for the truth and reality. Because naturally philosophers are solely tormented people in the search for truth. If, however, you read past this simple statement, you would realise that Baudrillard wasn't actually denying the validity that the event happened, instead he was making a bold statement about the contentious issue of interpretation. That is, Baudrillard questioned whether the events that took place where comparable to how they were presented through the means of media.

For those of you who know me personally and whom have read my articles prior to this one, you will know I have a keen interest in reality television and the frightenly blurred relationship that it creates between fact and fiction. I learned of Baudrillard and his views in my Media class when I was at school, and I would say he has definitely influenced my outlook on life and made me cautious of the powerful entity that is the media itself.

With relation to the Gulf war, Baudrillard put forward the notion that it was a media spectacle, rehearsed much like a war game and then played out to the public as a simulation. The war itself, including the real violence and real bloodshed, was lost in the heavily shaped electronic narrative. That is to say the news reports and other forms of coverage were so heavily edited and focused on dangerously shot hand-held video clips and boasting of their supply of missiles that the nature of the war itself dissolved. The media stood in the way of communicating the truths of the war, as opposed to adding to it.

Whether or not you agree with Baudrillard picking of such a contentious topic to use as the example to put forth his theory, it would be hard to dispute how much the media shapes, influences and distorts our lives. I for one believe it's a sad reality that newspapers and their highly one-sided political bias shape our views of politics. If we don't know the whole unbiased and unedited truth about politics, then surely it's a dangerous situation to vote for someone or a party to gain political reign of our country that you know so little about.

Naturally you would want to deny that the media is a replacement of reality, but that is exactly what Baudrillard believed and I advocate. Consider your use of social media: you de-tag the photos you look bad in, you upload the ones that you look nice in, you write comedic and captivating statuses that make you sound interesting and you 'check-in' at 'cool' and 'hip' places - because that shows your friends and followers that you too are cool and hip. So you might not do all of that, but you're guilty of at least one point I guarantee. (I used to be jealous of compulsive Instagrammers, until I attempted to 'join the club' so to speak, only to realise it would take far too much time from my day trying to edit photographs to make me look artistic and effortlessly cool.) We ourselves are guilty of shaping our own lives through the media, and the media does this in turn to us on a much larger scale.

Next time you're watching the news, or reading the newspaper just think of how fictional and contrived the "news" really is. Because after all, reality cannot be replicated or reported, only distorted.

The trickery of time

It's been a little over a month since I last graced this blog with a spray of thoughts formed together so as to attempt to make sense of my bizarre stream of consciousness. I bear no real excuse, except the time old cliché of being so busy I am yet to catch up with myself. That, and perhaps a pinch of the old case of 'writers block'. Well it's all about quality and not quantity, right?

Here's a thought...

Many things in life are defined through an evident transition from one state to another quite different. Yes/no, never/always, open/closed are but three examples. Seasons, however, possess a unique quality in that they appear to seamlessly fade into one another; for I do not go to bed on a glorious summer's day and wake to crisp leaves lining a street of stark, stripped trees. And yet, in contrasting myself entirely it really did feel that way today. The heating switch was firmly flicked to 'on' - and no doubt will remain so until February, if not March - and my wardrobe, full of summer clothing, managed to belittle me into feeling foolish for not reacting quicker to stocking appropriate autumnal attire. And that's what's so very fascinating about time; it appears to pass by so very quickly, and yet every now and then it surprises me with its ability to prove how silently it can work.

So with Autumn now enveloping like a thick duvet, the time has come to drown myself in seasonal clichés. The fire will soon be lit, the countdown to Christmas fast approaches and nights will be spent wrapped in my feather duvet escaping in books and watching the abundance of new series that grace our televisions this very time every year. Oh Autumn/Winter, I love you.

80, single, living with cats.

My biggest fear in life is to die alone surrounded by a multitude of cats who ultimately, one day after feeling severely famished due to no one feeding them, eat me. 
Okay so there's not an inch of truth to that sentence, but let us not brashly overlook that this is a large and somewhat serious issue for a lot of people in life. Numerous people, namely women, actually go as far to planning their future pet situation due to depression of that place in life known as 'Singletown'. Need I remind you that this is a serious issue, guys.

I guess I struggle to understand this fear of loneliness and of being alone. And I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. I went through a break up not so long ago and it was my first "serious" relationship, and so I guess breaking up could be considered a big deal. If I'm honest the relationship was somewhat hit and miss for a long time, and so the break up wasn't a shock to me and, strangely enough, nor did it upset me. Instead of laying around feeling sorry for myself whilst simultaneously watching Bridget Jones's Diary and eating Ben and Jerry's... I got on with my life. There really is a life without being in a relationship. And it's actually a whole lot of fun. 

I'm not saying I'll have this attitude for the whole of my life, and with every man that I meet. Maybe one day once I've met "the one" everything will be different. But right now, as a nineteen year old, I can think of better things to do then cry over a past teenage relationship.

Firstly your old buddy free time reappears. You remember free time, don't you? It can appear at any time of the day, and it's really quite useful. You finally get to do the stuff you want to do, and you can happily be selfish with your time. Indulge yourself in things that make you happy; whether that's making time to see old friends or making cupcakes. Whatever floats your boat. Everybody's different, but it's crazy how you realise how little 'you' time you once gave yourself. 

I think another great factor of being single is how your true friendship bonds strengthen. Boys and girls come and go, but friendships are with you for life and so it really is essential to never drop friends for partners. Suddenly, with no one to fall back on, standing on your own two feet means you have to consciously make the effort to make plans. Now that I'm free to make my own choices, I wonder how I ended up staying in every weekend with just one person. There's a whole world out there to explore, and there's no one better to explore it with than your best friends.

I get that everyone is affected differently by break ups, and that a lot of you may struggle to understand my 'get on with it' approach. But when you look at life in the grand scheme of things... this really is but a blink in the eye. You are going to move on, you are going to be happy and you won't die alone surrounded by cats (although I can't promise about the last point). To prove my point, imagine a world where time didn't heal things... seriously we'd be the most socially inept world possible. All slumped up, crying, scoffing our faces whilst listening to depressing music. It just wouldn't, and doesn't happen.

Life goes on, and so will you :)

The importance of risk

While you are sitting here reading this very sentence, I want you to imagine how we got to where we are today. Dig a little deeper than well today came from following on from yesterday... I want you to consider how we have evolved; both technologically speaking and in terms of our material environment. If evolution is a trusted theory, or indeed if we were created ex nihilo, then there was once a point in this universe's lifetime when there was little to this earth. 

Because we were all born in the middle of the story, i.e. at a point whereby we are significantly more advanced in development in comparison to even just 100 years ago, it's really quite easy to overlook and take for granted our roots and progressive evolution. 

Nothing of what we have achieved so far, and will continue to discover and create, would be possible without taking risks. The word 'risk', to some, conjures up images of being exposed to danger, harm and loss. Others, notably entrepreneurs, see risk as the necessary factor in the equation to discovery and ultimately, success. I am a firm believer that nothing worth achieving in life comes easy.

Risk averse people tend to fall into the trap of thinking that risk only relates to entrepreneurs, but that's an easy mistake to falsely believe in. In choosing to go to university, young people take the risk in deciding to better their lives. It doesn't pay off for everyone, but for the majority this risk does; for the chance of success outweighs the risk of failure. And the same goes for school leavers opting to go straight into employment. It's the exact same formula and balance of risk/success. 

If everyone opted for the simple route in life, we would be without so many advancements. The thought of Sir Tim Berners-Lee not creating the internet is quite literally unthinkable. Sure there is the chance that a risk may not pay off, but instead of reading that as failure look at it as a learning curve. The best in the business didn't reach their peaks without a mountainous climb and set backs along the way. The amazing aspect to human existence is that we aren't aware of if we have, or ever will reach our ultimate potential, and so the scope for continuous development is infinitely open.

It's time to believe in yourself, erase the negative connotations associated with risk and embrace the infinite landscape of opportunity that is available to you in life. Why be a fleck in the existence of the universe when you can be respected and known for a valid purpose; for having achieved something worth remembering? It doesn't matter how big or small your impact is; everyone's climb to success is equally important in life... what matters is that you believed in yourself and gave something a go.

My sister, my best friend

Ever since I was a little girl I've looked up to my sister with regard to almost every aspect of my life. There is a two year age gap between us, so she's always seemed that bit more experienced at life than me. She's the cool one, the pretty one, she's my ultimate best friend. Friendships come and go, but the bond I have with my sister will stay just as strong for both of our lifetimes.

There's something irreplacable about the bond you share with a sibling. Unlike friends, who see you at your best, siblings see you at your very best, and your shamefully worst points too. You grow up together, you share secrets, you learn to accept every aspect of that person and, best of all, you know their limits. 

Luckily for my family, Lucy and I have never really experienced the whole sibling rivalry situation. We are so similar in certain aspects; the TV programmes we like, our food tastes, our love of shopping... yet at the same time we are two very different people. Lucy is most definitely a "peoples person". She can get on with anyone, and she's uber organised. The most ideal event planner type. I, however, can communicate perfectly confidently with people, but I'm an analyser. I thank Philosophy for that. Our differences, though not drastically polar opposite, add to our bond. It would be no fun if we shared the same taste in everything, or if we never disagreed. That's what makes a sisterly bond that bit stronger; we love each other enough to stand up against one another. 

Life is so unexpected, and you never know where you'll be heading, but family will always be there for you through thick and thin. So sometimes it's nice to appreciate your siblings and parents alike, because those are the people you are most likely to take for granted in life.

Cows graze, I graze...

I'm a self confessed grazer. Similar to a cow's eating habit, I spend all day long eating various items of food without much thought as to why I snack as often as I do. Realistically, if I had the means of using an oven or hob at work I would attempt to eat simply a hot meal for lunch with perhaps an item of fruit or two, but without such equipment I am left in the all-too-easy-to-gain-weight trapzone of that which is British packed lunch. 

I find it a daily uphill struggle to think of enough items to put together to constitute a sufficient lunch. Let me rephrase that; it's easy enough to throw any old easy ready made items together - i.e. the really unhealthy stuff - but not so easy to create not only a healthy lunchbox, but a filling one too. Because, let's face it, fruit doesn't keep you full for as long as you'd like it to. That crosses the apple diet off of my list.

I have found a happiness with Belvita's breakfast biscuits, as I find them a good mid-morning snack to see me through until lunch. These and cereal bars have become a staple in my office lunch, because they both contain fibre and release enough energy to curb and keep my hunger pangs at bay. Being the chef that I am though, I decided to attempt to make my own healthy cereal bars tonight. Nothing too fussy or over-adventurous for a first go, just simple, healthy, granola bars. And believe me, they are seriously good stuff. 

If you want to have a go at making them too, here's my recipe:

1 knifeful's scoop of butter (I use margarine - slightly healthier)
1/3 cup/mug of honey
1/2 cup/mug of brown sugar
3-4 cups/mugs of granola
1/2 cup/mug whole grain flour 

It's super easy. 
1. Mix the butter, honey and sugar in a pan and bring to the boil. Make sure you keep mixing it all though so that it doesn't burn. 
2. Then, mix the granola and flour in a separate bowl and pour in the boiled mixture. 
3. Mix it all together and spread the mixture onto a baking sheet flat in a large shape which you can cut into cereal bar shapes later on. 
4. Put it in the fridge to allow it to cool and set in to shape and cut into cereal bar shapes once cool.

Bon appetit everyone :)

Will the olympics inspire a generation?

London 2012. The most highly anticipated sporting event of the past, what seems forever, in Britain, and boy what a show it has been so far. Britain has triumphed in the league tables, positioning ourselves comfortably into third place with a tally of eighteen gold medals. Yes, you heard right. Britain has finally excelled at what appears to be almost every sport. 

So this morning whilst getting ready I went to flick on to BBC one's breakfast show, as I do every morning, only to be met by olympic coverage. Somewhat disappointing, for I wanted to know the weather forecast - which, for the record turned out to be dire - but, alas, for a couple of weeks I can tolerate ITV 1's version. If I'm being honest, the reason I choose not to watch ITV 1's breakfast show is that the order of events and the commentary itself irritates me. They always have to focus on hot topics and question whether the government, for example, will live up to their promises or whether Jamie Oliver will really impact school dinners being healthy and so on. Blablabla. It's far too early for such intense thought on what are quite frankly mundane and bleak issues. 

The topic of today was, unsurprisingly, shrouded with the olympics. More precisely whether, the motto of the olympics, "Inspire a generation" will live up to its expectations. Not in the sense of whether children want to take up sport as such, but as to whether the government are going to be able to fund such activities. Because of course, children cannot learn to run unless they are on a brand new athletics track. Goh, what do you take us for? 

And then it hit me. BAM. ITV 1's morning show annoys the brains out of me because they never ask whether the children are going to eat healthily, they ask whether the government are going to fund such a venture. It's not always the governments place to have to fund every aspect of our lives, you know. Sure, we all live in a cohesive society but, we are all autonomous individuals so, it is actually okay for us to fund our own sporting ventures, or - heaven forbid - even to learn and play sports in a regular playing field. 

Beyond the discussed topic leads to the question what "Inspire a generation" actually means. Personally, and I could be alone here, but I don't see it as simply inspiring a generation to be fit, healthy and athletic. I am well aware that I am not athletically inclined as such, but I do my best in trying to keep fit by means of Pilates and exercise DVDs. In watching the olympics, it would be wrong to suggest that I am not immensly proud (and a teeny bit jealous) of the athletes' faces upon the realisation that they have won gold. It spells a story far beyond the single race they have just won, it tells a story of a journey of determination, hard work, endless hours of practice and extreme motivation. 

And that's exactly how I encapsulate the olympic motto; not just inspiring a generation to become athletically-minded, but inspiring a generation to work hard to achieve their own unique personal dreams. It would be hard to watch how well our country is performing in these games and to not feel the slightest bit inspired by it.

Proud to be British: Olympics 2012

A touching tribute to Sir Tim Berners-Lee

Never have I been more proud to be British. The opening ceremony was a show stopper and a triumph for Britain in a year which has been so historically important for our country.

It started off a bit wobbly, with everyone wondering how the Amish related to British culture. Evidently, British fashion has changed dramatically since way back. And with no thorough narration to the story Danny Boyle was telling, I really did feel for the foreign visitors. I'll confess I was a tad lost myself on the historic story that was unfolding before my very eyes at the start. The puzzled faces in the audience would make an excellent photo opportunity however, I'm sure.

The beginning aside, the celebration of our culture and all things British that proceeded truly did serve to make me a proud citizen. We embraced every part of our country; the history, the culture, the literature, artists and so on. The focus on the NHS and Great Ormond Street was such a tribute to the members of the public sector in Britain, and I think it really harnessed their continuous hard work, which proved to be a very moving, and very public message of our appreciation. 

It would have to be the set design that took my breath away the most. It would be hard to dismiss or dislike just how intricate and visually stunning it was. No expense was spared, and you could see that. The fluidity of changing eras, from the countryside adorned with flowers to industrial Britain was seamless and thankfully worked without a glitch. 

Of course, there's no denying that our opening ceremony in contrast to Beijing's was entirely different. But in comparison to a production of wealth which Beijing put on, Britain created a wholly egocentric ceremony which worked so well. Instead of bowing to the pressure of internationalism, Boyle put on a production of what is quintessentially British; from the artificial rain clouds to the green, grassy hills. Rowan Atkinson made a hilarious debut, JK Rowling featured, Dizzee Rascall, a homegrown Grime artist sang and even the Queen made her acting debut with James Bond (aka Daniel Craig). 

The lighting of the cauldron, followed by an abundance of fireworks was spectacularly breathtaking and a perfect finale to such a historically exciting evening. Overall, it was a quirky take on British life, but a historical triumph too. Well done Danny Boyle. 

Let the games begin!

Exisentialism and Donnie Darko

Let me start this post by highlighting that I have been wanting to write about this subject for ages, but it's a case of where on earth do I start. You'll see.

One of my philosophy modules last year was one called Existentialism. While deeply fascinated by this module, the concepts it discusses also disturb me. It would be wrong of me to say that I can define this theory in a paragraph, but for the purpose of discussion I will give you a basic overview. So a way of looking at it would be that we humans bury our heads in sand in life in the way of sticking to routine - 9 to 5 jobs, routine of a work week to weekend and so on. We bury our heads for two reasons: 1) because humans fear and recoil from freedom and 2) because we don't want to face up to the fact that we are mortal beings, whom have limited existence. If we truly accepted the fact that we will cease to exist one day, we would live what philosophers' call an "authentic" existence. In sticking to routine and becoming social conformists, we not only attempt to give up our freedom and thus responsibility, but we attempt to attach meaning to things in life and thus keep our knowledge of our awareness of our own finitude at bay.

You'll probably see now after that very short overview - which has a lot of points and views missed out from it, why I was fascinated but too feared the subject matter. It opens up a can of worms because it really makes you consider your whole existence. This is the real is-there-a-point-to-it-all stuff.

In studying the subject I became aware that one of my favourite films is to be considered an existential film, for it discusses some of the topics that existentialism purports. That film is American Beauty. American Beauty is one of those films that I've always been drawn to, but it's hard to say what it is about it that I loved so much. And then I realised that it was this philosophical tie-in. So I set about googling existential films and bought a few to watch to help me understand existentialism more. And that's when I came across Donnie Darko.

If you've ever watched that film, then your mind will be just as blown as mine. If you haven't, you've got to watch it - seriously. I have watched this film too many times, and I'm still just as lost as the first time round. There are the numerous theories of the whole story itself; the contrast between a primary universe (PU) and a tangent universe (TU). We humans live in a primary universe, it's what we experience everyday. Time, for us is a stable element but, in this film it has been corrupted by a fourth dimension which creates a TU. Tangent universes are to be seen as "alternate universes" and they are highly unstable and usually last a few weeks before they collapse and destroy both itself and the PU. This is what happens in Donnie Darko, and the following 28 days in the film are set in this TU/alternate reality.  

Enough of the brief overview though, because I find the smaller philosophical discussion in the film so much more interesting. It's the juxtaposition of characters that are trying to find an authentic meaning to life in comparison to the bury-their-heads in dull routine types. You have the gym teacher at the PTA meeting arguing that a book (which is "meant to be ironic") should be overruled because of the themes it discusses, which seems ironic in itself in contrast to the immanent destruction of the world which is fast approaching their blinded lives. It almost suggests that we are so wrapped up in fear that we deny reality and therefore live inauthentically. 

Then you have Jim Cunningham, the flashy over the top Hollywood creation of a man that can make anyone overcome their fears. The characters are drawn to his promises of a fearless world, when in fact he is a corrupt and sick child pornography hoarder. Appearances can be deceiving, and appealing. The irony here is that a TV personality can't make you overcome fear, because it's something you as an individual need to face up to yourself. Jim Cunningham's character represents the suppressing of fear; which is what we humans tend to do but really we need to accept fear, because in accepting it we understand the essence of our existence. Donnie, in contrast to Cunningham, is in search of a deeper meaning to existence which goes beyond popularity, materialism and money. Donnie may well be perceived to be a prisoner by the other characters, trapped in a lonely world of schizophrenia, but he is on a path of accepting his freedom and therefore finding the truth and living authentically. At this point in the film you really see the contrast between ignorant humans preferring to deny reality; they are more interested in seeing sparkle motions dance routine instead of facing up to the truth of their existence for they desire routine, materialism and facades. Those searching for the truth are ridiculed and isolated by a society that is brainwashed through fear into following orders and committing controlled behaviour.

The ending of the film captures existentialism pretty neatly too. Donnie is lying in bed, laughing at something the audience isn't consciously made aware of. This is at the point when the jet engine comes crashing through the ceiling and kills him. The last 28 days never happened. This point to me suggests that Donnie has accepted fear, accepted his finite existence and no longer fears death. The hand wave between Gretchen and Donnie's mother hints at a concept of those manipulated in the TU (i.e. Gretchen and Donnie's romance) bearing distant connections to people in the PU. Gretchen feels something when she looks at his mother, because in an alternate, tangent universe she shared a connection with that family. This may explain why some people warm to others in life for unexplainable reasons. It's such a fantastic film on so many levels of symbolic and literal meaning. I don't think I ever want to fully understand it because you can read so many different things into it and that's what makes it such an accessible and likeable cult film.

The unattainable image of perfection

Remember that time when I blogged about how the internet is destroying our attention spans? Well, I have to admit that as of late due to a hectic temporary work lifestyle, I've been a sucker for 'soft reading' i.e. reading an everlasting supply of popular culture magazines. Look, Grazia, Marie Claire, you name it I'm most probably reading it.

In my house we have three bathrooms and in each and every bathroom there's a stash of my mother's magazines. They have become the toilet-reading-types as far as I'm concerned. I always laugh at my mother's choice in magazines because I can predict, far too accurately, who will be on the cover each week. For the record it's only ever a choice of a Loose Woman, Holly Willoughby or Phillip Schofield. Richard and Judy used to feature a lot in past times, but I guess they just aren't selling as well anymore. So that's the front cover sorted. The insides are predictably familiar each week too... who's wearing what outfit best, the usual cleaning tips, a shocking story and then... well, a topic which seems to saturate not only every magazine my mother buys, but also every magazine I purchase too. Diets.

I'm the girl who has grown up her whole life surrounded by the media. Ever since I can remember I've been surrounded by perfected images of immaculate beauty and a barbie doll body. Unlike most women, I wouldn't say I'm anti this situation, I guess I am just more aware of what I eat and what I do. Thank you, media, for putting that voice in my head which tells me I really shouldn't have one more bite of that chocolate bar.

It's not even the fact that I dislike how magazines always promote exercise and healthy eating, because those two factors inevitably lead to a healthy lifestyle. It's the pictures of airbrushed celebrities that are placed next to these exercises that irritates me. As far as I am concerned, there's a simple reason why people like Kim Kardashian have the body they do; because they have the time and the money to invest in exercise. If I wasn't leaving the house at 8am for work and returning home at 6pm, and I had the means to eating as well as they do as well as having the use of a personal trainer tailoring an exercise regime specifically for me, then I'd quite frankly be shocked if I didn't boast a tiny, taut body.

I'm not even asking for yet more of those annoying be-body-confident campaigns where they use "real" women; because every woman on this earth is real, regardless of if you're a celebrity or not. If anything it makes me distrust those brands just that bit more, because you know they're only doing this to make you like them. It's just that I don't always want to see the "end result" heavily photoshopped image in the magazines because, if you think in the same way that I do, that just seems that bit too unattainable and daunting for someone just starting to change their dietary and exercise ways.

A true festival foe

It's that time of the year when hundreds of thousands of British people start counting down for festival season. Indeed the time is nigh, and the muddy fields are within sight.

Festivals are a huge deal to so many people, and for reasons far beyond what festivals used to represent. Festivals were once soley just an appreciation of music, attended by music lovers and for music lovers. But nowadays, mass marketing and dollar signs in the eyes of the producers have turned them into mass events which extend far further than the fields they take place in.

I honestly believe that the vast majority who go to festivals such as Reading or Glastonbury spend an equal amount of time on their festival outfits nowadays as they do scoping out what bands are playing on what stages. Of course this isn't a bad thing - because I've always been brought up to look my best for different occasions, but I think it's just peculiar how a whole fashion trend has emerged with these events. Being the hardy Englishmen and women that we are, we can brave the cold, wet, windy weather wearing bottom-scraping cut-off denim shorts teamed with a staple pair of Hunters. Because that's just what we do.

Well... I say we, but I personally don't actually like or attend festivals. The way I see it, they are an event version of Marmite; you either love them or loathe them. Okay so I wouldn't say I loathe them as such, it's just more that I can't deal with the almost guaranteed rain and thus muddy fields, sleeping in a tent and the inability to stay clean. I'd be more than happy to spend a weekend at a festival like Coachella where you can watch bands play wrapped in the warmth of Californian sun, but the cold and grimey associations of English festivals just don't do it for me.

Hunter wellies are no milestone gift

I've always had mixed emotions about milestone birthday presents. Yay, hurrah for turning eighteen, twenty-one or even fifty. But for me, the presents are an iffy subject. I, nor my sister, have never really been one for "keepsakes". Personally I think it's because I like to keep my space as minimal as possible - even though in actual fact it's already far too messy. And, I'll be honest, I'm far too anal to trust someone picking out an object that I will potentially keep on show perhaps forever more. What if it's really hideous and you feel obliged to keep it out in the open for everyone to see? I guess it's just you'll always have that hanging guilt if you were to ever rid yourself of it. 

I'm not saying I don't like well thought out keepsakes however, because I think they are such nostalgic ways to remember milestone points in your lives. For my sister's 21st back in April, I spent ages trying to think of the perfect little gift alongside many other general ones and I found this gorgeous Vera Wang compact mirror which was stored in a beautiful white leather envelope pouch. She, hopefully, really liked the gift and I think that will be a lovely way for her to remember her day.

With all this in mind, I actually had quite an interesting talk with one customer regarding her gift choice for her daughter's upcoming 21st. I'm more than used to customers walking in and trying to find a gift idea for a family member, friend and so on. So this woman wanted two perfumes for her daughter which were both fairly inexpensive so she could buy her this other beloved present her daughter was dreaming of. That sounds pretty reasonable, right? Maybe think again.

The "dream" gift was a pair of Hunter wellies for Reading festival. For her 21st. Clearly I've watched far too many American movies which idealise birthdays, gifts and the importance of turning 21. So in a year's time, or even fifty years time, when this girl has sprayed herself dry of her perfume and the wellies are caked in mud, or maybe even ruined, how exactly is this she going to remember her 21st? I'm not opposed to Hunter wellingtons being purchased as a gift idea, because I get that they are an expensive everyday purchase to make. It just seems like such a peculiar present idea for a 21st. 

I'm all for buying what the birthday girl/boy wants, but sometimes you've just got to take the reigns. My sister didn't ask for her mirror, just as I didn't ask for a watch for my 18th, but in hindsight I am so glad my parents bought it for me because I will always link it back to my birthday and even to the exact moment when I burst out into tears of happiness. The unexpected gifts you never specifically asked for, but now couldn't live without, are the priceless ones that create memories that will last a lifetime. I'll admit it, finally, at the grand old age of 19 that perhaps mother does always know best - well when it comes to certain things anyway.

New Girl: both me, and the series

Aaaaaaah. The sudden realisation that you've abandoned your blog for the past forever. Okay, so it's been 6 days. But it certainly does feel a whole lot longer. I'm not ignoring you, I promise. Indeed I am in fact using the cliché it's not you, it's me but, it this time it really is me. 

I am happy to announce that through hard work, and a whole lot of emails and calls I have managed to land myself summer work. Yipee. I'm working for Kent County Council, and my role is effectively an administration assistant. It's exciting stuff, and I'm gaining so many new skills and experiences which will all help by the time I graduate and look to start my career. So as of late, with much of my time spent travelling to and from work and indeed being at work, I have found I have little time in the evenings to sit down to write. I'm here now though, and that's all that counts right?

So I climb into bed hoping and praying that something worth while will be on digital TV, which we all know is pretty futile in fulfilling that role 99.9% of the time, and low and behold it appears someone has answered my prayers. The new series of New Girl has started and it already feels like the last series finished only yesterday. It's such easy, cohesive viewing and perfect in the sense that you don't need to watch every episode to know the storyline. So long as you know the character names, you'll pretty much pick up on what's happening regardless of what episode you watch. It's no Lost, put it that way. 

Ever since the first series aired, I sense the vibe the producers were going for is a modern-day, twenty-first century Friends. The whole apartment sharing, the will they won't they Ross and Rachel type of scenario, the character types - think pretty one, goof, unemployed, the loveable one. Pretty much the recipe for a perfect sitcom. Friends enjoyed a lengthy period of popularity, and in light of the mixed reviews New Girl has received over this side of the pond I'm not saying it's quite on par just yet, but it's early days... and hey, I only want to watch something easy going to relax from a hard day's work!

Heat, humidity and (jumble) sales shopping

On my hour long lunch break today, I decided to venture out of the cool and breezy office into the hot, humid heat. I always find hour long lunches slightly awkward, 'cos you're walking around aimlessly for an hour quite literally just killing time. Unless you're one of those I'VE GOT TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE AND THEN THE TOWN HALL AND THEN THE BANK BECAUSE I'M IMPORTANT type of people. I however never have such highly important tasks to attend to.

Thus, I flittered in and out of shops like the hour was running out fast. I consider myself to be a "grazer" shopper; I'll invest time in a select few favourite stores and really scope out the items I choose. But today, the heat just got to me. I was like a kid on a car journey. The worst part? I only had myself to moan to.

It was a mixture of heat combined with an extreme dislike towards sales-dominating-entire-stores that agitated me. I'm all for seeing that beautiful, expensive, exquisite, pay-day destroying, dream dominating item go down in the sale after you have stalked it online for months, but after I've bagged that I'm ready for the new collection.

Let's not be irrational here, sales are a god-send when you can find those timeless classic pieces that will live through season after season but, fashion nowadays has become so disposable. The eclectic neons, the bright floral pants, the pastel jeans... every item I have just listed is so heavily focused on a trend. The key word there being trend. Trends come and go, as quick as you can buy the item. Even in a double-dip recession high street stores still manage to get us to part with cash because, let's face it, people aren't going to forget your favourite bright floral pants you wore everyday last season.

The ugly face of modern architecture

'Le Corbusier' inspired tower block

So today I'm driving home with my mother and we're casually chatting whilst I'm looking out the window at the changing landscape. The car slows to a hault and we approach a set of traffic lights. My eyes are fixed on this one piece of architecture to my left, a school that has recently been knocked down and rebuilt, and before I know it we've both started a conversation about it - this happens often, it must be a family telepathy thing. The general stance of our conversation was discussing how insanely hideous this new school looks from the exterior. It's covered in large rectangular panelling coloured in varying shades of green ranging from a lemony green to bogey green. It's a dulux colour chart of disgustingness, if ever that word existed. 

After airing our disgust towards this piece of 'modern architecture' we soon compared it to other recent new builds, both not far in distance from that piece. We have a set of houses about 5 or so miles from our home which appear to have been slashed diagonally on the roofs, as well as fronting floor to ceiling windows. I'm not impartial to floor to ceiling windows in city apartments where there's views to be seen, but I can assure you there is little to be seen from this housing estate, not to mention I'm certain outsiders would rather not see so much of the inside when passing by the houses.

The genuine facade of the
school we passed.

Ever since I was a child I have had this unexplained interest in architecture, particularly that of churches, and I guess it's never really left me. I love old architecture because the buildings bear unique stories. In my university town of Canterbury, the Cathedral, as well as general architecture in the old town, is breathtakingly stunning. Even from the outside you can see the intricacies of detail in the architecure from the intial striking height of the building (which would have been difficult and, not to mention, unsafe to construct in 1070) to the detailed carvings which feature in the stonework.

To me, what sets apart modern architecture from that of ancient is the time frame it took to construct. Our current era is obsessed with time, or should I say the lack of it. Everything nowadays from modern technology to microwave meals is focused on speeding up the process of delivery. We're too impatient. And this very observation, in my opinion, can have damaging effects on anything from health to architecture. Yes, hands up I admit that I'm one of those microwave wary people - but is it really safe for potatoes to cook in ten minutes in a microwave when it would take an hour conventionally in the oven? Personally I'm not so convinced...

Back to the architecture though. So my line of thought is that our modern speed obsessed world has basically resulted in being able to build X number of buildings and houses in as little time as possible, with as little thought as possible. What has happened to the time when architects took pride in their plans and spent as much time as needed to build a truly stunning piece of timeless architecture? I'm just wondering what people in 100 years time will think of us, and my guess is that they will laugh at the array of colour chart and cement clad buildings that appear to be springing up at an alarming rate. 

I think the enchanting old architecture of cities such as London or Paris are a major factor in their draw to tourists because the ambience and look is aesthetically pleasing. You only have to look at The Houses of Parliament or the Arc de Triomphe to see the notion I'm discussing. Architecture should be timeless and beautiful, and I don't see that quality being reflected in some recent builds. I'm not averse to the future, I embrace it, but it's true to say that I'm concerned at what Britain could end up looking like in 50 years time.

Sarah Burton is a fashion God

While on the notion of Autumn/Winter...

I absolutely fell in love with Alexander McQueen's ready to wear Autumn/Winter 2012 collection. Surprisingly for me it was the flurry of luxourious winter white pieces that lured me in. White naturally juxtaposes autumnal colours; it brings purity to a maturing period of oranges, browns and copper tones. But it just worked, too well. The oversized fur stoles Burton designed partner perfectly with the beautifully constructed embellished fabrics. Everything about the collection is caped in inoffensive excess. The clothing bleeds luxury and you can't help but want to wear every piece you see. 

I think high street stores would be out of their minds not to take note of this creation...

Pictures from http://www.vogue.co.uk/fashion/autumn-winter-2012/ready-to-wear/alexander-mcqueen#

For the love of Autumn

I'm not really big on summer myself. I know, I know, you think I'm weird. But I'm pretty certain I'm not alone. Summer, for some, is a dreaded season. Hot weather, thus bare legs, minimal clothing... everything out there for the ever so scrutinising world to see. This, fortunately, isn't the reason for me not being the biggest fan - even though I truly am an english rose myself. 

I don't fear minimal clothing, I just dislike it. Call me conservative, call me whatever, but I like clothing. I like layers. They make me feel safe. Autumn and Winter spell an abundance of fashion options, whereas I find summer pretty repetitive. How many times can we alter denim shorts to make them as interesting as last year's collection, really? We've seen patterns printed on them, studs, freys, tye-dye. Seriously, what's next?

Winter used to be my favourite season. The very word, 'winter', itself conjures up images of chunky fairisle jumpers, my cat spread out in front of a warming fire and a Christmas spent like Wham's video, Last Christmas. I see warmth, love and happiness. Everyone is just that bit closer in winter, or at least I like to think so. I always think winter's my favourite month, but in retrospect unless I am wrapped up in a million layers, I shiver and moan. (In my defence I do think my skin is quite thin though, because I still feel the cold on a summer's day if I am caught under the shade for too long.)

So upon having this epitome, I discovered Autumn is the perfect season for me. I love Spring, but I guess the way the British summer season is so hit and miss, as in noone ever really knows when it's going to arrive or even if it's going to arrive, it's difficult to know what pieces to invest in. Personally I love light knits, but if summer approaches us as quick as in April then I know I'll get little to no use out of my spring wear. Oh, the problems we face. Autumn however is a totally different ball game. It's the season God has given us to prepare for Winter, the warm up some may think. Start stocking up on lip balms, moisturisers and deep conditioning treatments like it's going out of fashion, because you know the cold is coming. It creeps up on you like a shadow, but it'll wreck havoc with your skin and hair before you know it.

Autumn, in comparison to Winter, conjures up conkers, thick homemade soups with chunky fresh bread, crisp leaves and fireworks. It's such a warming season, and I think there's something quite beautiful about, what is effectively the maturing period of a year. Autumnal colours are ideal for everyone alike; you have options. If you're body conscious, browns and blacks cover lumps and bumps perfectly. And if you want to make a statement, golds and coppers add to the luxe feel.

Granted Autumn is an inbetween period situated between Spring/minimal clothing and Winter/heavy clothing, but it's the perfect season to start layering. Layering allows you to mix patterns, textures, shapes and pretty much anything you like. Go as bold as you want, or, stick to autumnal shades and add glamour to outfits with key accessories. The best thing about layering is that if you're hot, take some off and vice versa for being cold. There's no reason to not be a perfect temperature, and thus a happy human. 

I'm already on the look out for my key Autumn/Winter 2012 investement pieces. Top of my list are ideally a nice fur gilet (courtesy of Alexander McQueen's ready to wear show), fairisle and motif jumpers, riding boots, a fur stole (please!) and cable knit sweaters. I hate to wish life away because it goes far too fast as it is, but I look forward to the fashion that comes our way this Autumn/Winter. For now, I'm still waiting on summer. 

Hurry up please.

"I am a tax payer, therefore I am moral", or so the politicians say.

What was the best, quickest and most entertaining way for David Cameron to take the focus off of his poor Leveson Inquiry performance? None other than to shamefully expose and scrutinise celebrity tax avoiders. Are you forgetting Cammy that half your government probably avoid them too?

David Cameron, it would appear, has been unrelenting and ruthless as of late in his public speeches. Just this week Cameron launched an explosive attack on Jimmy Carr branding Carr "morally questionable" for using one of the many tax avoidance companies available to the wealthy.  

Cameron has successfully opened a can of worms however, which I'm certain is to backfire on him, for now the doors are wide open for the rest of the Tory party to be scrutinised and heavily investigated. I'd be quivering right now if I were one of those. What's even more entertaining is that it has come to light that Cameron's father-in-law too has used "blatant" tax avoidance schemes. So, I guess the question really is, why did Cameron feel it right to single out one person and scrutinise them? It's scapegoating at its most obvious form.  

If you remember correctly it wasn't so long ago that MPs were at the forefront of the expenses scandal, in which they were wrongfully claiming thousands of expenses. To reiterate Cameron's words, "blatant fraud", one might say. 

After studying a political philosophy module this year, I began reading about "the state" and the nature of it. It is really interesting to look at the history of the state, for it is used to justify how and why it operates today in the way that it does. I.e. by having a democracy. Effectively, looking at the "nature" of the state involved analysing how the state, or society, came to exist. It looked at who first decided upon the designation of property and who decided upon a system of taxes. 

Personally speaking, I consider myself to be a moralistic individual. I am not saying I have never told a white lie but, in terms of theft, I can honestly say I would never steal. That's immoral behaviour, as I am sure you would agree. But the thing is, is that I am not all that certain that paying taxes is key to moral behaviour. Tax as far as I am concerned is, a political obligation, not a moral one. In Johnathan Wolff's book, An Introduction to Political Philosophy, Wolff sums up 'political obligations' in the most concise manner I could think of. "Political obligation is the obligation to obey each law because it is the law, and not necessarily because we think it has some independent moral justification". 

Some may argue that what the law requires them to do, i.e. pay their taxes, is morally wrong - for tax money is perhaps utilised to immoral ends in certain cases, for example, in the creation of weapons of mass destruction. Thus, paying taxes in said situation is morally reprehensible. But there's this underlying obligation to pay taxes, because that makes us morally worthy, right? However no one signs a form or contract agreeing to consent to the state, we are assumed to comply from birth. Taxes are in this sense, perhaps assumed to be hypothetically consented to. Of course the state wouldn't work if everyone utilised tax avoidance schemes, but I question how many people would genuinely pay all of their taxes if they were offered an easy route to effectively "opt out". It's the same situation as those that do odd jobs for cash in hand. If one is to listen to Cameron fundamentally, those actions are too morally questionable, for you have not declared the cash to the state. Alas, you have little option but to be publically shamed, to go to prison and pay your debts to society. 

Let us not forget we are in the brunt of a double dip recession, and money easily translates into emotion. Those who struggle with payments but still pay their tax resent the wealthy that avoid it, but the wealthy who pay their taxes resent paying such a high rate of tax that may be put towards benefit "scroungers", for example. It's a contentious circular argument which is hard to settle. 

Cameron's speech angered me, for he scrutinised Carr in such a focused and playground bully style manner. It's picking a person out of a pool of avoiders and publically shaming solely one individual. And the reason I disagree that tax paying makes one morally praiseworthy is for it is not society whom decided upon this settlement, but an economically driven government.

Top Gear, top show

 I'm a girl, and I am a serious fan of Top Gear. And I think it's safe to say it's probably the only car show I'll ever be interested in.

I love that Britain has finally made a show the world want to mimmick that will never live up to standards in any other format. It's like a secret recipe, and if the BBC had just been able to bottle it, it'd be priceless. 

Quite frankly the show would fail to suceed, let alone work without Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May. They are the perfect trio of presenters, each with a distinct personality and an undeniable chemistry, bonded together by comedy. You've got Clarkson, the bolshy over-confident alpha male leader of the pack. His word goes. Then there's Hamilton, the short one of the three whose evident passion for cars makes up for what he lacks vertically. And then there's May. The sweet, perceived to be dopey presenter who, even though he always gets the short straws car wise, you just can't help but fall in love with. Which is probably the reason why Clarkson and Hamilton pick on him consistently and without fail in every episode.

The challenges they do are just out of this world. And that's what appeals to us. Many will never get the opportunity to drive the cars they do, let alone in the locations they do. Imagine pushing your car to the limit in an adrenaline fuelled drive along Yungas Road in Bolivia, a road known as 'death road' due to its narrowness and sheer drops. Or creating a road worthy vehicle to successfully cross the English Channel, which if you didn't realise is 25 miles of sea. Or being able to laugh at how much the police spend on cars, without getting arrested. We all wish we had the power to do these things. 

Clarkson, Hammond and May are untouchable when it comes to making harsh facts about the motor industry, but remain highly respected in both their careers and their opinions alike. Together the trio have seen such vast and awe-inspiring parts of the world, and quite rightly who wouldn't be jealous of them for it?

The Hunger Games: A gripping trilogy

So the other day I told you about how I accomplished my reading of 3-and-a-bit books in the past month. I am pleased to share with you that whilst I was away lapping up the sunshine and cocktails on holiday in Porto Santo, I finally got round to reading Suzanne Collins' bestseller books, The Hunger Games. 

Unfortunately for me I only had the first two books to hand, but I didn't expect to read so much if I'm honest. It was like my Twilight affair from yesteryears all over again. It was immediately a case of me questioning why on earth I didn't get round to reading them sooner. I was obsessed. 

*SPOILER ALERT*

A really brief outline is that it's a dystopian book set in the future, in a place called Panem which was once known as North America. It is ruled by the "Capitol", which we learn is a callous and sick dictatorship ruled by President Snow. There are twelve districts surrounding the Capitol, each focusing on a different trade such as mining or agriculture. Once every year there is a live televised event which picks two 'tributes' (candidates) from each of the twelve districts, in which they are then forced to fight to death. The capitol call it a pageant, but it's far from that. The only rule is that there can only be one survivor. So it's bitter sweet to learn that the hopeful protagonist Katniss Everdeen is made publicly aware of her partner tribute's feelings towards her. It's love. Which makes the book even more gripping and potentially heartbreaking.

Collins has most definitely created a page turner book. Each of the two books took me two days in total to read. That's a record for me. I couldn't help but wonder why I liked the books so much though. Because when you consider the storyline, it's gross and sadistic. But after some serious pondering, isn't the whole of mankind that way? We ridicule people under spotlights, just look at our current versions of reality TV. Big Brother, for example. People are laughed at, we force them to fight with claws out to get the winning prize. The only difference being that prizes in current times are now promised fame, as opposed to the gift of your life being spared. 

I read an article in a magazine recently which spoke of advice for amateur budding novelists about how to get noticed and how to write a best selling novel. They said to find an author whose style and technique you like, and to attempt to mimick it in your own book. With that in mind, while reading THG I questioned who Suzanne Collin's wrote like, and almost immediately I found a likeness to Stephenie Meyer. So it was no surprise to see that Meyer wrote a review which features on front page of the second book.

Similarity #1: They both have written hugely successful teen trilogies.
Similarity #2: The love triangle. Gale's character bears a striking resemblance to Jacob, the good looking best friend whom the female protagonist never sees "in that way". But there's clearly denied chemistry. Hello Katniss Everdeen, or should I say Bella Swan. The mysterious heroic girl who keeps herself to herself. The budding beauty who doesn't realise her power. And then there's Peeta, the Edward of this trilogy. Good looking, smooth and has a way with words. It's all there.

If you're looking for a gripping read, then look no further.

Hooked on Revenge

I saw the adverts. I saw the teaser trailers and, truthfully, I wasn't all that impressed. I'm all for cheesy American sitcoms, as you all know, but Revenge seemed to push the boat too far this time. It's grotesquely cliché, but will we ever get bored of US dramas focusing on the rich elite? Probably not.

So to my surprise I somehow ended up spending Father's day night watching 3 episodes simultaneously. That's 120 minutes worth of viewing time. Happy Father's day, dad. He loved it though, truth be told we all did. The best part? Finding out it airs every Monday night. I'm anticipating this week's episode tonight, and at least I now have something to make up for the Monday evening gap Made In Chelsea has created.

Revenge as the title suggests, focuses on, er, revenge. Emily Thorne (Emily VanCamp), centre of the above picture, arrives at The Hamptons with an agenda to destroy the lives of a rich family that ruined her father. 

The series looks like it's set to get really interesting, it's a hit in America if that's anything to go by. Granted the pilot episode has a lot to inform the viewer of, so it was never going to be smoothest of first episodes. I think the worst part was just how fake The Hamptons looked. And to an extent, the acting too. Did they film it all in a studio and photoshop in the surroundings? I'll be frank with you, after three episodes, I still don't know the answer to that one.

I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it's the best show you'll ever watch, but if you've ever watched the likes of Desperate Housewives, Gossip Girl, 90210 and so on, then I think you might just fall in love with this far fetched little drama series.