Glee!

Yes, I’m going to join the masses, be boring and talk about the sensational Glee!

Do not get me wrong; on every level I should absolutely loathe this TV show. While I am an all-singing all-dancing kind of girl, I don’t want it on my television. On stage, where the performers are incredibly talented and prove it by belting out wonderful, intelligently written songs and fill a theatre, yes please. Unless we’re talking about the masterpieces like Grease or the genius of Disney (clearly not including HSM 1, 2 or 3) I’m not likely to be impressed. If this makes me a musical snob then so be it but as a young regular at various theatre’s I’ve decided I have the right and also it makes me feel better as I have no musical talent at all, lacking the ability to play the recorder.

I spent many of my younger years performing as a dancer as the lack of skill in musical areas left me no other choice, so I spent a lot of my time around many people that resemble the annoying stage-school characters seen in HSM and Glee. I’m still very good friends with a certain young woman that as I look back was far too similar to Rachel Berry – a character that I described to a fellow blogger as someone “I’d happily throw up on.” The only difference being that my school friend avoided the slushies, so now I can only reminisce and wish there had been a Slush Puppy Machine in school for me to have tortured her.

While Lea Michelle’s character alone is almost annoying enough for me to not only turn my television off but to destroy the evidence that I had ever seen Glee, there are a couple of guys in the show that make it entirely worth watching: Artie & Kurt, played by Kevin McHale and Chris Colfer. The two characters are people that I would genuinely love to be friends with – Kurt’s passion for Marc Jacob and Artie’s desire to dance?! We’d be BFF’s. I just know it.

My love for Kurt is a little stronger, especially after his performance of ‘Defying Gravity’ and in my opinion destroyed Rachel in their sing-off. (What does Mr. Schuester know, anyway?!) Colfer is so undeniably talented – so much so that the part of Kurt Hummel was written specifically for him after he auditioned for the part of Artie, already taken by McHale. Thank goodness for that because if my Monday night’s were lacking the angelic voice of Kurt, I don’t think I’d be as content! The talent in the show cannot be argued as all the actors can clearly sing and while Finn’s dance moves are questionable, the light comedy can mask it pretty well – Sue Sylvester is comedy genius.

Unfortunately for me, it’s a one man show. My Monday night's are suddenly less sparkly..

Offensive or Artistic...?

At 4.55am, there I was trying to form a proposal for my 3rd year Independent Study. Unsure of what I actually want to write the piece on, I aimlessly wandered about the great ‘www’ and while the Glee OST had me distracted here and there, the wandering led me to a fantastic cyber woman:

www.wilmaproops.blogspot.com

Now this isn’t where Wilma and I first came to meet. I’m a little interested in the social expectations and issues surrounding tattoo’s, particularly on women as I only have three myself but find despite the fact that so many people have them now, there are still many that simply do not like them and do not wish to see them. My new friend, Wilma is definitely one of them. I somehow found my way to her ‘hubpage’ through various links and forums debating the acceptance of tattoos in society. I personally, do not see any harm that a person is doing in covering themselves from head to toe in ink or as some choose to refer to it as ‘art’. I don’t intend to make a strong point about this subject as I would rather not get the thrashing that W.Proops receives.

In saying that, she’s rather quick-witted and intelligently responds to people referring to her as a “f*ckwit” and an “old prude”, explaining that tattoo’s should be accepted by all – “it’s the beauty of America, man”. I can honestly say that reading this kept me both distracted and entertained for far too long. Good one, Wilm.
http://hubpages.com/hub/Tales-About-Tattoos---An-Argument-Against-Them

I know what I think on this subject but take a look at tattoo artist Kat Von D on a shoot to promote Sephora concealer and I’m sure most people will have a preference to one or the other...

A Reading List: Summer 2010

With the months ahead looking uneventful, it's probably the best time to do some reading.. texts that I enjoy and will read by choice, for once!


1. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
An incredible story, everyone should read it, my favourite of all time.

2. Where Did It All Go Right? By Andrew Collins
It’s the first and last second hand book I will ever buy. While I hate to touch the yellowy pages, the first few chapters were a good read so I’d like to finish it.

3. The Good Man Jesus & The Scoundrel Christ by Philip Pullman
A birthday present from a wise man – I trust his choice in literature, even if I do think Pullman’s an idiot.

4. The Longest Crawl by Ian Marchant
I bought a copy a while back when the wonderful Ian was my lecturer. I miss his jokes so I’m hoping there’s a few of his killer lines hidden in there somewhere..

5. Pieces: A Collection of New Voices ed. By Stephen Chbosky
The newest addition to my bookcase that I’m looking forward to reading, Chbosky’s a young genius when it comes to writing.

I also intend to finish reading the graphic novel V for Vendetta by Moore & Lloyd, a Christmas present that was unfortunately neglected for a dull semester of feminism and modern dramatists. Boo…



Reviews and updates to follow!

"You tell me to live.. "

After turning 21 last month I've found myself looking at all that I've done in my life and what is important to me which is something I never take the time to do. I'm far more comfortable out of my own head space and so avoid climbing in there if I can. When I occasionally do stumble off track and find myself completely lost in the mess that is my mind there really is only one person that manages to pull me out and remind me that "life aint' so bad, y'know!"

While for many people the person that helps them out, like the one that I just described, is someone that they're close to and trust. I have only had the pleasure of meeting my person once and I fell on the ground and cried.. apparently for a good five minutes before he offered me a hug which was more than enough to get me up and out of the curb. It may sound ridiculous but Bryce Avary can make me smile regardless of any situation - his words and voice, at least. I saw him perform for the fifth time on May 26th and after a couple of difficult weeks he really did not let me down. Waking up on Wednesday morning I felt a smile spreading across my face as I realised that I'd be dancing myself silly in a few hours. As promised, the familiar sounds of his piano filled the o2 and I quite simply felt better. The incredible summer sound of "You Gotta Believe" and an old-school lovely, "That's So You" were all I needed to remind me of his incredible and beautiful talent. It also reminded me of my immature jealousy towards his wife, Tara - also one of the nicest people I've ever met.

I only have a few friends that also appreciate his music but even they don't quite understand me, as I stood scooping up confetti after the show and tried to explain why and how I could just feel that much happier.. about absolutely everything. I continued to try and explain myself and have been doing so since I was fourteen. The topic even returned the following day as a friend and I discussed how lovely and talented his children are going to be, only further reminding me that my adoration is completely beyond any level of normality. I would feel somewhat embarrassed or bothered by it but Bryce Avary deserves to be adored and while I never have and never will have any musical talent whatsoever, I can only try to and hope that I could write as beautifully as he does.

& he's just SO lovely!!



www.therocketsummer.com

Not your average weekend away..

It was Summer 2009 when three friends put their lives in the hands of National Express (foolishly) and headed for The Sunrise Coast. Doesn't it sound magical?! Latitude, AHOY!

We set off in the very early hours and found ourselves feeling that Christmas Eve excitement, even if it was mid-July. Having decided to attend a festival that looked a bit 'interested' and had a few good but obscure bands playing, we had no idea what we were in store for. We knew no-one else who had ever been as it was only in its fourth year of running and in the months before, not many well known acts had been announced. Were were wasting our money? We had assured ourselves that it would be good either way as we would just enjoy the company and the well-reccommended beauty of the Sunrise Coast.

My goodness, did we enjoy ourselves. Wandering sheep were painted different colours and seemed to increase in numbers as the days went on. Gondolas floated along the lake and offered rides with the cheeky chap's that considered themselves 'professional gondoliers' but found it somewhat hilarious to entice people that really didn't have the appropriate footwear. Art was scattered throughout the woods, hanging miscellaneously on trees and along riverbanks. As each day became another night, a dazzling light show shot across the lakes and Henham Park became somewhere entirely different - it was time to party. And the place to party? Apparently, The Disco Shed.

The Disco Shed was quite literally a shed. I can't say it was without a few frills in the form of lighting and one of those disco balls that most teenage girls had in their bedroom to feel a bit cool when they had friends over. So fetch. The disco element was the grassy space between the Theatre Arena, the Cabaret tent and the many different food stalls. We found ourselves just dancing around, over-priced pints in hand and burnt faces smiling back at the equally jolly strangers dancing beside us. For me, that was the most amazing thing about this festival. That word, festival, brings a certain image to mind of drugs, alcohol and a severe lack of cleanliness- I personally think that rubbing baby wipes under your armpits does not count as a wash but then again, I chose to share a shower in a field with far too many naked women.

The people at Latitude were there for something different. With Poetry, Literature, Theatre, Music and Art all scattered across one field for your viewing pleasure there was little time to get drunk and bump uglies with the grubby guy from the tent next door. I could go ahead and list the amazing acts that my friends and I had seen, acts that we learnt of and fell in love with during those four days but I don't know where I would start.

Latitude 2010 is rumoured to be bigger and better. My ticket will be purchased on the day of release and I'm sure my friends will be doing the same. If you enjoy any of the things mentioned in this here blog, have a gander and you won't be disappointed.

I don't even wear corduroy..

Why am I The Corduroy Kid?
The very lovely Simon Armitage has a very lovely collection of poetry titled 'Tyrannosaurus Rex versus The Corduroy Kid'. Yes, it seems I went for the weaker of the two but I don't think I have it in me to take on the role of the Tyrannosaurus Rex and I unfortunately know one too many dinosaur-loving boys that would simply find it wrong for me to make such a claim. After all, I'm just a girl. A girl that may have worn corduroy once, I think.
As I was replacing my old blog with this new one* I found myself staring at my VERY new bookcase and my eyes met his. Simon, it was meant to be! I immediately picked up the collection and flicked the pages to my favourite poem of his, You're Beautiful.

You're beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as funerals.

I'm ugly because I think of children as another species from a different world.

It is a poem that is well worth reading in full and as I said, I think it is a lovely, lovely collection. Maybe tomorrow I will come up with a better but less truthful reason to be called The Corduroy Kid..

*I would've kept my old blog but it had a mega 'goth' title from my horrifying teenage years of 'I HATE MY LIFE' that I would rather not follow me into my twenties.