i never should have let them dance...

So that thing I said about working didn't happen.

Instead - partly because I'm bored and partly because I haven't done one of these shallow, time -consuming lists for a while - I thought I'd make a little chart of weird people I quite fancy right now. Right, here goes...

1. Domhnall Gleeson - Bill Weasley. I think that says it all, but in case it doesn't, he's Irish. And ginger. Yikes.
2. Mark Heap - Yes, he's the guy who plays Alan Statham, but he is also the guy who plays Brian in Spaced. I have been watching a lot of Spaced lately, and as a result, my perception of reality has become blurred. This means I find this man quite attractive. I did say it was a list of weird people...
3. David Morrisey - He was in the Christmas 'Poirot' AND he is Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility. A little on the old side, but enigmatic nonetheless.
4. Simon Amstell - Quite funny. Also quite gay. Hmm...
5. Dimitri - From the animated film 'Anastasia'. Duh. He may have been my first love and is solely responsible for my fascination with Russia.
6. Christina Hendricks - Simply for the fact that she could crush most of the brittle women in Hollywood just by sitting on them and is still shit hot.
7. Ed Miliband - Just a bit. Just a little teeny bit.

I couldn't think of three more, and I didn't want to spend longer than half an hour thinking about this. Some would call that a waste of time.

in a town that's cold and grey...

When I am a bit gloomy and the world seems to be failing me a little, I like to revert back to the things that are important to me: family, friends and books, for example. Today was a good day because it combined all three of these things, and as a result, I am in a very good mood. I awoke on Sarah's floor, having stayed the night after a lovely night out in a somewhat icy Birmingham. I then went downstairs and had a good old chat with her mum over tea and toast, before heading to Hay-on-Wye to meet my auntie and uncle for lunch. Hay is one of those places that is so beautifully unreal that you could never really live there. It seems to exist solely for the occasional visit in order to fill yourself with tea and your bookcase with Penguin Classics. I also got to hear people speaking Welsh, which always reminds me of my youth. I was glad to find that it still sounds a bit made-up.

My new favourite band is a little group named Clarensau. They are fairly adorable and make pretty music. Their album 'Until Our Lungs Give' is lovely (and all on Spotify).

It's time to do some work, but the thought fills me with... not dread, exactly but certainly not joy. Sometimes I wonder whether I made the right choice taking the academic path, but then I think about going home to university in just over a week, and that thought makes me happy. I certainly couldn't live here for any extended period of time, and if my spell at Morrisons has taught me anything, it's that I really hate Morrisons. I would imagine that this sentiment would apply to most retail/catering/mundane jobs, so that choice doesn't really appeal. At the end of the day, I am just a disgustingly lazy human being. If I was a cow, I would be shot.

and my wasted heart will love you until you smell like piss...

Well hello there!

I hope (with all the sincerity I can muster) that you all enjoyed Christmas day and have recovered from the calories and general merriment. I am sort of back on the 'I hate Christmas' bandwagon, so please remind me of this next year when I am once more trying to be positive.

Although on a side note, I did enjoy a spot of festive 'Poirot'...

Boxing day has always been a little bit depressing. When I was little, the glow of Christmas day was enough to keep me going through Boxing day and possibly even up as far as the new year. As you get older, however, it seems that presents sort of lose their sparkle. This year I got a printer, some cake tins and a wok. Now, these are all lovely presents (and things I asked for), but it begs the question: when did I grow up?

There are some films I can watch over and over again (Lost in Translation, Pride and Prejudice, Juno, etc.). Love Actually is one of those films. It's so incredibly, naffly heart-warming. Also, some people remain just as sad at the end as they were at the beginning, so this makes it okay, yes? No. No, no, no.

P.S. I used a picture of Keira Knightley to lure you in under false pretences. Sorry about that...

and the christmas is white and the hats are flimsy...

Merry Christmas everyone. May your day be full of joy and merriment (stuffing and gin).

I can't get over quite how gorgeous this is. Consider it your Christmas present from me. Have a good one, only over-indulge if you can handle the consequences. I hope you have shit paper hats like I will. I can wear my shit paper hat and think of you all wearing your shit paper hats, and it'll almost be like we're together. Yeah, that'll work!

Unreservedly yours,

Anna

x

face after nameless face...

I'm not a very sentimental person. This may shock and appal you, but alas, it's true. But you'll forgive me, I'm sure for coming over all poetic just this once.

This site is nice. It's full of pretty words that don't mean anything and pretty pictures which don't really match the words all that well. It's a pointless way to pass some time if (like me) you have Italian essays to write and gifts to wrap.

And I like this site a lot. The basic concept is that people send in pages torn from books which they have whittled down to a few words that mean something (or not as the case very often is). Lovely.

So I haven't posted for a couple of days, and it's already one in the morning, so I doubt anyone will read this. This means I won't feel too bad about telling you what I've been up to over the past couple of days. On Tuesday night I went with Helen and Chris and the woman who calls herself my mother to see 'Matilda', performed by the RSC , with songs written by the beautiful Tim Minchin. I can wholeheartedly say - without reservation - that it was the best thing I have ever seen on stage. Possibly tied with Les Mis. It was just brilliant! So brilliant, in fact, that I have just bought tickets to go and see it again with my university friend Cait (who was dying to go).

The perfect evening was marred, however by the fact that due to the snow, we had to stay in Stratford for the night. There are many worse places to be stuck, I know, but I had to share a hotel room with she who must not be named, and this was not without consequences. I could spin an exaggerated but amusing tale about my night, but suffice to say that I ended up in the hotel lobby reading my book from five onwards. It was disconcertingly quiet, so when it hit six-thirty, I decided to go for a wonder in the deserted town. It was quiet and snowy and my feet got wet. Beautiful though...

Today I went to a very busy Birmingham with the lovely Sarah Dixon. It was great to catch up. I miss her insane amounts. I spent too much money. I got a cab back from the station with a driver who looked like Jarvis Cocker's fat cousin.

I believe I have run out of things to say. I would wish you a merry Christmas, but who am I kidding? I will be posting tomorrow. G'night!

reach for the stars, so if you fall you land on a cloud... BULLSHIT.

Just over a week in to the Christmas break, it's hard to say just what I have achieved. I certainly have not done any work, have not been anywhere exciting, have not really spoken to anyone. It's been a nice week though; a week of solitude and Salinger and snow. I also have the somewhat lame excuse of having been quite ill, but from tomorrow I will be slightly less pathetic. I will do some actual work, and I will leave the house. Probably.

I'm really really bored of cooking curry all the time. I mean, it's delicious and it's one of the few dishes which is not hindered by the absence of meat, but I'm sick of it. Somebody please give me some ideas! I really do like cooking, but I feel like I'm stuck in a bit of a rut, so if you have any thoughts, or if you would like to come round and cook up a storm with me, send me a little message.

I literally slept all day, and as a result, I'm on top of the world! So it occurred to me, the answer to all the world's problems - sleep. I reckon if everyone got ten solid hours every night, we'd all be a bit less angsty and a bit more pleasant. Perhaps all of our problems would dissolve. We wouldn't have family tiffs, the Koreas would get on, every day would be a good hair day. Call me a dreamer, but in the words of Gloria Steinem 'Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.'

I hate supposedly inspirational quotations like that one, don't you? It's like the speaker genuinely thinks that their vague, corny words will have an effect on the life of a complete stranger. And everyone's been at it! Even people I quite like (Einstein, Angelou, Woolf, etc) can be quoted in such a way. The thing is though, it is not these lame affirmations that render these people great. In general, their acts speak for themselves, and they are genuinely rather inspiring with or without their empty words.

Words are always empty though. Aren't they?

My sister is a fuckface.

baby you're a sparkler...

Christopher Thomas Yapp (yappattack) just told me that my last post was "very whingey". Good point well made. So this one is going to be full of positivity and light. Just don't get used to it.

This weekend is the time for the return of all my friends which is very exciting. I've missed them all so much, and hopefully we will be a bit less shit than usual and go out and suchlike things. I should probably do some more Christmas shopping, but my overdraft seems to be reproducing with itself and my finances really aren't too hot at the moment.

Today has been spent watching The Hills and marinading things and wrapping up warm to go out in search of Lemsip and soya milk. I also wrapped up all my Christmas presents so far, which is a shame really because that's the best part of the festive season!

Have you seen the video for Katy Perry's Firework? It's mental. Basically, people keep erupting into a big ball of sparkly flame in various states of emotional imbalance. For example, a couple has an argument and then explode a little bit, a lady has a baby and explodes a little bit, two men kiss and explode a little bit. It's all a bit odd. Throw in a bit of Katy looking uncharacteristically classy, and you've got the gist. I'm sure they're going for some sort of symbolism, but it's just a bit shit.



I promise I will never put another Katy Perry video on here again. Sorry 'bout that...

Go on this blog! It led me to listen to lots of new music and it's beautifully written. In a chart of the best songs of the decade, Sugababes Four Tet and Radiohead all featured. Talk about diversity!

This song is proper good, back from the days before they started rapping and they still had Mutya and the ginger one.

pursuit of happiness...

So, I don't really understand what's going on in the Ashes. I don't really understand cricket. I think you may be disappointed if you thought I was going to comment on bowling technique and wickets and suchlike things. One good thing about this quite dull competition, however is that some cricketers are quite pretty.

Firstly (and most importantly) is young Mr Alastair Cook. He has a nice face, and as far as I can tell is pretty damn good. This is his face. Mmhmm, yes.




Then there's Stuart Broad. Injured, but still hot. In my mind, he is the Draco Malfoy of cricket. They look quite similar, no?


I don't think we need another example (mostly because that would involve looking up more cricketers and frankly, who can be arsed?).

I'm back home now, and missing campus life dreadfully. I also miss the oddballs of flat 33, amongst whom I never lose my temper or raise my voice. I miss my highly uncomfortable bed and stash of seasonal alcohol. I miss watching grainy Jonathan Creek on Youtube with my flatmates before staying up in the oppressively small corridors all night pretending to be appalled while the boys talk about poo.

Home sucks. Home really, really sucks. In the past hour, the words "Stop that fucking coughing" and "What the fuck have you bastards done with the paracetamol" have been screamed by my mum who is in a particularly pleasant mood. I'm not sleeping either because of this "fucking cough", so I'm in a bit of a grump.

No matter, have some pretty music:

Goodnight everyone, may you sleep well and dream sweet dreams. Of Cricketers...

2010: a year to be thankful for.

If you happen to read any sort of trashy, girly magazines (which I of course do) you will know that this time of year is the time for reflection. The glossy pages are adorned with countdowns and summaries: summaries of the highlights and low lights of the last year, of the most costly celebrity divorces, of the most successful makeovers, etc.

Following this trend, I've decided to present to you the highlights of my year. I know that this is quite a self-centred thing to do, and that you may not want to read about my year. I thought about this though and realised that the act of blogging itself is pretty self-centred. So if you want to read on, please do. If you would rather pop to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and watch old episodes of 'Peep Show' on 4oD, that's fine too. In fact, I encourage it. 'Peep Show' is full of well-constructed, subtle humour with a dark yet bohemian twist. My meandering thoughts are all I can offer you, so I won't judge you if you stray a little.

So we'll start at the very beginning, shall we? As 2009 became 2010, I was passed out with my head in the toilet after drinking some horrid yellow concoction brewed up by Olly Dix. This wasn't the best way to kick off the year, but it did prompt me to give up drinking for about seven months which can only have been a good thing.

After that, things started looking up. A-levels passed in a flash, I stopped dying my hair, summer happened.

The highest of all highlights has to have been my trip with Sarah across our gorgeous continent. I definitely caught the travelling bug and intend to do it again when I have money and time. I say this like it's a certainty. Seriously though, it was the most fun I've had in such a long time. I got to spend time with one of my dearest friends in some of the coolest places in the world. We made friends we had no intention of keeping and drank some fine Czech beer. It was simply wonderful.

Although the election in May was an utter disaster, the run-up was exciting and could easily have led to me failing all my exams. I didn't, so I look back on it fondly. If I was doing a 'Shit bits of 2010' blog, however, I'm pretty sure the election result and our sham of a government would be hovering somewhere near the top.

In February, I gave up meat for lent, and just sort of carried on. I wouldn't label myself a vegetarian because I use stock-cubes and eat fish and suchlike things. Hypothetically, if I was eating at somebody's house and they didn't realise and accidentally cooked a big fat steak, I'd eat it. This has only happened once, but I'm hoping for a repeat... But yes, no meat means I'm eating a lot more healthily. Everything I cook seems to be full of chickpeas and coriander and spinach. Yum, yum, yum.

This summer was immense. Aside from the hosteling, Edinburgh and Greenbelt were both lovely. A trip to Bristol and a couple of pretty camping trips, paired with really nice weather made the season a complete delight from start to finish.

Coming to university has been completely wonderful. I was so scared that I was doing the wrong thing, but I've settled in so quickly and made such good friends that it's hard to have misgivings. Warwick is home now. I can't believe I have to leave for Italy so soon. Life is proper scary sometimes.

On reflection, really not that much has happened, but it's been a really good year of music and friendship and recovery and education and adventure and Italian. What more could a girl ask for?

ten things I haven't quite mastered yet...

1. Fixing my hair in such a way that it looks exactly the same in an hour's time.
   
2. Getting up without pressing the 'snooze' button at least seven times.
3. Drinking.
4. Enjoying thought-provoking, complicated films more than their trashy counterparts. I fear that such classics as 'Ten Things I Hate About You' and 'Moulin Rouge' are firmly fixed in my favourites forever.
5. Believing in God
6. Prioritising essays over pointless list-making. Like this one.
   
7. Finances.
8. Banal social chit-chat.
   
9. Italian.
10. Accepting that I will never be like Vesper in 'Casino Royale'.
    

overdrawn. in a nice way...

The frost on the trees was incredible, wasn't it? It's starting to thaw now, which is a shame because (in the words of Aqualung) just for a moment, everything was beautiful. Those in the know reckon that the changing of the seasons is good for our sanity. It keeps us on the ball. Keeps us ticking over. I think this is particularly true for those living on campus when it is very possible to feel a little bit trapped. If the view from your bedroom window alters (even just a little bit. With a covering of white, for example.), life seems a little less samey.

Yesterday was my birthday. You probably know this, because you probably know me. I had an exam in the morning and a full day of lectures so it wasn't perfect. But it was lovely.

One of my modules this year, 'Representations of Modern Italy' was pretty much made for me. The lectures are basically history lessons (mostly on Fascism) with a lot of literature and film thrown in. I think I like it just for the amount of variety. We started off studying poetry by Ungaretti, followed by 'Il Sentiero dei nidi di Ragno' or 'The Path to the Spiders' Nests' by Calvino. I had already read and loved 'If on a Winter's Night a Traveller' by Calvino, so I was pretty chuffed when this turned up on the syllabus. They are very different, but both stupidly good. Now we are looking at the work of Roberto Rossellini who pioneered the neo-realist movement in film. I cried. That's all you need to know.

This week promises to be a good one. We are trudging along to the Christmas Ball on Thursday and consuming much festive alcohol over the week. There are only three days left of term, and Charlotte is coming to stay for the weekend because she gets chucked out on Friday. I shall be back home (if you can call Wolverley that) on Wednesday, and there the fun will really begin. By this, I of course mean that I will put on a stone in mince pies and will watch Love Actually seventeen times. 'Tis the season to be porky and unquestioning.





Good morrow! (I'm coming over all Dickensian. Did you ever watch A Muppet Christmas Carol? Please do...)

through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow.....

Christmas doesn't really do it for me, but in the spirit of festive whatnots, I have decided to embrace it this year. It is the bigger picture of which I am not all that fond, but here are the things I can genuinely get excited about.

1. Mince pies
2. Gingerbread lattes
3. A lecture-free month
4. Buying presents - always so much better than getting them
5. Ironic Christmas knitwear
6. Mulled wine
   
7. Baileys
8. Student loan coming in...
9. Seeing my dog
10. Love Actually
    

So yes, still not exactly the most Christmassy person on the planet, but I will relish the time spent indoors doing absolutely nothing and getting a bit porky.

I'm listening to Damien Rice AGAIN. I think he may be my soul mate... 'O' is the only album I can think of that I will happily listen to in its entirety. It's just kind of perfect in a flawed, melodramatic sort of way. Sigh...

I'm not sure I understand all that clearly what is happening to the world at the moment. The USA have ballsed up quite a lot, I think. I have read numerous articles on it, but I'm not really taking any of it in. It seems to have implications for pretty much everyone, so I should probably look into it a bit. Ah well, another day, perhaps...