nobody's gonna say it outright, just go, la la la...

I remember weird things. If someone I am interested in tells me their favourite song, I remember it. I could tell you what each of my friends got at A-level. I remember the face of somebody I have met once and barely even spoken to (and they never fail to forget me, resulting in an awkward, stilted conversation). I never forget middle names. I remember meaningless quotations from meaningless novels and the lyrics to a ridiculous amount of songs. However, I never retain any useful knowledge: I forget when I've arranged to meet up with my grammar buddy, I never remember birthdays or phone numbers or homework, I don't ever know the date. I wish I could use my superfreakingmemory in a way that would actually benefit me.

Today, there are many things I should be doing. Writing blogs is not one of them, but I'm back on the blogging bandwagon now and I fear I cannot be stopped. I was going to post a picture of my hopelessly untidy room, so that somebody would cajole me into doing something about it, but I am too ashamed. I'll let you use your imagination. The beginning of the week was a bit shit, but I'm getting into the swing of things today. I actually dried my hair, put on proper clothes and ate something that wasn't chocolate. Things are looking up!

I saw my mum yesterday, which is nice. If you like that sort of thing. She wasn't too much of a crazy, and even brought me my UPS parcel which was delivered to the wrong address. Good old Mum! Cait and I went to Stratford (where she happened to be), and in the space of about five minutes, my mother managed to mention the Labour Party, gender discrimination and new shoes. I fear that we may be the same person. This is probably why our relationship is somewhat strained at times.

I hope you have a lovely Thursday, and that you are more productive than I will be. I leave you with a snippet from my favourite album of the moment. Enjoy!

of all the gin joints...

Wow, it's been a while! I blame the drink-fuelled, work-filled blur that has been the beginning of term. I'll never leave it this long again. Probably.

It's been an odd week. On Wednesday, I was a bit despondent and a lot frustrated, so I hopped on a train and went home to the land of the old. It's probably the best thing I could have done, what with one thing and another. I ended up having a good catch-up with my mother in the local over scampi and chips, before a tear-filled hour mooching over boxes of old family photographs, some of which I felt the need to bring back to Coventry. I honestly love photos. They stay the same when everything else falls apart and the people depicted change so utterly.

I feel like having had a couple of sunny days has made everything seem a little less bleak. Even Coventry city centre looks okay in the sun! It also means it's colder so several grandad cardigans are necessary, which can only be a good thing...

On Thursday, my lovely friend Eilish came to visit, and we got the chance to see the wonderful Charlotte Ireland in The Marriage of Figaro in the Arts Centre. Opera isn't really my thing, but I can appreciate that some of these people had voices like angels', and all in all, it was a good night out. I did feel a bit like a proud parent, though. When did I get old?

Because it seems to be a time for reminiscing, I thought I'd put this video on here. I'm not sure whether you'll remember, but it was the song played at the beginning of the televised version of Beatrix Potter's stories (which I of course had on video). It's just as beautiful as it ever was, and I can still picture 'Beatrix' running for shelter from the rain, before striking up a conversation with the rabbit sat on her kitchen table. If you didn't watch it, you will now think I'm crazy, but that's a risk I'm willing to take...



Oh I found it!



In this next week, I get to see more old friends, see Matilda again (eee!), and see Casablanca on the big screen in the student cinema. Sometimes I'm quite glad I'm me!

Sometimes it sucks...

My favourite albums of all time (just in case you're interested)...

Hello there. In lieu of work, I have decided to write about music for a little while. If music doesn't make you tick, or you are sick of me, you have my permission to leave now and make yourself a cup of tea instead. I won't judge you. 

I was going to do a 'top ten' list, but I genuinely couldn't narrow it down that much. Instead it turned into a top twenty. I hope you stick with it that long!

So here it goes. My twentieth favourite album of all time is 'Flaws' by the wonderful Bombay Bicycle club. I adored their début, and expected a similar follow-up, but this album couldn't be more different. Jack Steadman needed this opportunity to showcase his hauntingly beautiful voice, and 'Flaws' saw his transition from hipster front man to serious musician with surprising ease. These boys are still insanely young, so I'm expecting great things.

Next at number nineteen is lone guillemot Fyfe Dangerfield. I always loved the Guillemots, but they never produced a consistently brilliant album. Their front man, however has succeeded in doing just this. From start to finish, 'Fly Yellow Moon' (particularly the extended version) is a complete joy to listen to. 'Faster than the Setting Sun' and 'Awake, Asleep' are the best tracks, in my opinion.

At eighteen is a record which shouldn't be good. John Darnielle, otherwise known as The Mountain Goats is an incredibly prolific artist, yet somehow maintains a brilliance other singer-songwriters can only dream of. 'The Sunset Tree' is much calmer and more self aware than 'Tallahassee' (which I also love). The album is the work of a genius lyricist, and is shockingly personal. It makes me feel like quite an emotionally grounded individual in comparison...

Next up is a wonderful album by a band who deserves so much more recognition. 'Wilderness is Paradise Now' by Morning Runner is an emotional roller-coaster. In a good way. 'Burning Benches' has been one of my favourite songs for a long time, but 'Oceans' is beautiful too.

Next at sixteen is 'Our Earthly Pleasures' by Maximo Park. I remember a friend telling me how good this album was. It must have been a while ago, because the aforementioned friend was definitely in my lovely brown and yellow school uniform and we were definitely in Physics. I went home and listened to it, and turns out the uniformed friend was completely right. It is a startling album full of clever lyrics and catchy tunes and its cover is cool. 

Now to number fifteen, which is definitely the most commercially successful album on the list and brings a complete change of pace. Kanye West is one of the most irritating people on the planet, but the excellence of 'Late Registration' cannot be disputed. Actually, it probably can, but it shouldn't be. 'Gold Digger' is one of the best songs of the decade, and 'Heard 'Em Say' is the first song I ever learnt to play on piano. Overall, an album which is full of variation, and just plain good!

Still with me? At number fourteen is Fleet Foxes with... 'Fleet Foxes'. These beardy blokes sure know how to make pretty music. 'Oliver James' and 'Tiger Mountain Peasant song' are my highlights, but it's all good.

At thirteen is First Aid Kit's 'Drunken Trees'. I stumbled upon their cover of 'Tiger Mountain Peasant Song' on Youtube about a year ago, and I was hooked. Their music is simply gorgeous, and I urge you to check this one out!

Next is a must for all those with even the smallest hint of a yearning for change in their heart. For every angst-ridden teenager, every oppressed Civil Servant, every misunderstood beauty queen, every struggling artist, every wannabe anarchist, every fuc... you get the picture. 'The Queen is Dead' always seems to compliment and enhance one's pain, and though Morrisey is evidently a bit of a tool, his pessimistic warble is very often the only thing that will do when life is just really not on your side.

'19' by the wonderful Adele is phenomenal. Its brilliance is compounded by the fact that she wrote it when she was... yup, nineteen. I am nineteen. This puts my life into perspective somewhat. The extended version of the album is lovely and has a wonderful live version of 'Hometown Glory'. Plus, anyone whose heart does not melt at her version of 'Make You Feel My Love' is probably a cold-blooded serial killer. I can't wait for her new album which is released later this month. For me, Adele shows that those who talk about 'mainstream' music with disdain do not consider that sometimes music is popular because it is just undeniably good. 

Half way! At number ten is '1990' by the sporadically brilliant Daniel Johnston. Listening to this album verges on discomfort. Sometimes, I have to switch it off half way through, because in my mind, Johnston's spirit is cracking and his heart is breaking with each shrill note. 'True Love Will Find You In The End' is a song that is almost too beautiful, and when his voice cracks during 'Careless Soul', I am almost always brought to tears. In a time when Auto-Tune reigns, this devastating, flawed album, wrenched out of this devastating, flawed man could teach us a thing or two about music, and going back to basics.

At nine is an album I didn't like at all at first, but the general hype was against me, and as usual, I was proven wrong the more I listened to it. Ellie Goulding's 'Lights' is everything a good pop album should be: quick-paced, catchy and different. The album has recently been extended, and as a result, gives an even more complete picture of Goulding's talent as both a singer and a writer. Highlights include the ever-brilliant 'Starry Eyed' and 'The Writer'. I hope this girl sticks around...

At number eight is 'I am a Bird Now' by Antony and the Johnsons. This is an album which just seems like one big act of catharsis, and the end result is admirable. Hegarty's voice is so unique and just does something to me that I can't explain. I'll probably be listening to this one forever. Oh, and it won the Mercury Prize...

At seven is Tom Waits' début 'Closing Time'. This was back when his voice had just a nice amount of rasp to it, and his ego hadn't been swelled too much by his success. Listening to this album makes you feel like you are sitting in a smoke-filled dive right along with him. It has a certain seedy quality about it, but this makes the sentimental moments all the more poignant. It is a record about love and despair and music itself. And it's not too jazzy. I hate jazz...

'For Emma, Forever Ago' is a work of art. For ages, I was completely unsold by Bon Iver, and frankly I thought this album was a little bit samey. I left it a year, then tried again. And hey, now it's my sixth favourite album of all time! It is a sombre album about winter and solitude and love gone sour. The lyrics are simple, yet effective, and Vernon's voice is just wonderful. 'Skinny Love' is bitter and pained, but very easy to listen to - everything you could possibly want from a song. I also think this one clinches the little bonus prize for best album name.

We are at number five now, that is how these things work. And I can't decide which order to put these in. Hmmmmmmm,  right, I'll go with 'I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning'. I really struggled to choose between this and 'Cassadaga'. Conor Oberst (aka Bright Eyes) is a man who knows he's good. But he's good, so it's okay. It must have been five years ago that I first heard 'First Day of My Life', and to be honest, I think it was the video that won me over. I bought the album anyway, and it was the beginning of a beautiful love story. I would imagine he would be terrible company though. These beautiful, sad men usually are.

How do you choose just one Radiohead album? If you're me, you pick the one you got into first. Quite often, I wonder what my music taste would be like if I didn't have an older sister. We like pretty different music now, but if I didn't have Helen, I might be listening to completely different music, happy music, even. Hell, I could even have been a positive person. Saying that, she was very much responsible for my ska phase in my early teens, and that is very happy indeed. So yes, this one sort of filtered into my conscience through the wall that separated our bedrooms, and one day I stole it. I'm pretty sure it never found its way back to the other side of that wall. More mellow than 'Pablo Honey', less commercial than 'OK Computer', less shit than 'In Rainbows', this is Radiohead at their absolute best. I honestly think no band can compare. It's not an original stance, but the one I choose to take nonetheless.

At three is the man who taught this cold, British girl to feel. Jeff Buckley's 'Grace' is made all the more wonderful in its isolation. Rich and simple lyrics, coupled with Buckley's melodramatic warble produce an end result which is mournful and pensive and beautiful. 'Lover, You Should've Come Over' is my song of choice when I'm walking the dog. 'Lilac Wine' is the one for cold winter nights. 'Hallelujah' is the one that was destroyed by Alexandra Fuckface Burke. This is a tremendous, ambitious album, loved by almost everyone in the whole world ever. Including myself.

I can't believe how long this has taken me! If I ever start writing about music again, stop me and tell me some gossip about James McAvoy so I can write about that instead. Business as usual, like. Anyway, at number two is 'O' by Damien Rice (and Lisa Hannigan. I'm not sure why he gets all the credit!). This is the first good music I ever liked. I have liked it for a very long time and I will like it until that fateful day when I die at seventy three and I get eaten by my many many cats. I jest, but this happens. I've freaked myself out now.

And so we have it. Anyone who is anyone is clamouring for this coveted top spot - Anna Morgan's favourite album of all time. Fairly fittingly, it has been achieved by the almighty Regina. 'Soviet Kitsch' is without a doubt the best album I have ever heard. So many girls have tried to write songs as well as she can, but few succeed. Some of the music on this list is here because it moves me to tears, but this one just makes me grin like a buffoon. There are sad moments ('Chemo Limo', 'The Flowers'), political statements ('Poor Little Rich Boy', 'The Ghost of Corporate Future'), pretty piano dabblings, casual insults, ridiculous declarations of love, whispered conversations, pure, unadulterated silliness and some of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. 'Somedays' is sublime, singing along to 'Sailor Song' is cathartic and 'Your Honor' is... memorable. I honestly can't sing this album's praises enough. She's still good, but she'll never be this good again. 

lord knows, it would be the first time...

So. It's 2011. It's a number that looks odd written down, and nobody quite knows how to pronounce it. Are we in twenty-eleven? Surely two-thousandandandandeleven can't be the way to go? I think we should just revert to using the last little bit of the number. It's not like we're going to get confused about which decade we are existing in, and besides, all the best years are referred to in this way ('66, '89, '91, for example). Let's just call it 'eleven' and be done with it.

Happy new year, anyway. I very much hope that it is a good year for you, that you get promoted or you get one of those baby things or you finally work up the courage to make that girl yours. Whatever it is that your heart desires, I hope that you get it, and I hope it changes your life for the better.

Of course, it's much more likely to just be another mundane year...

Last night was lovely. I had all of my old school friends over, and we just drank and chatted all night. I think we're all a lot more mellow than we used to be. Also, I think it says something about both my friends and my house that when I woke up this morning, it was tidier than it was before everyone arrived yesterday.

As it is the dawn of a new decade, I think it is probably time to lay down in writing the ways in which I intend to change (but never will). Firstly, I will get all my work done on Wednesdays so that weekends can remain free for socialising and whatnot. Secondly, I will eat breakfast every single day rather than choosing instead to stay in bed for ten extra minutes, which brings me on to my third resolution - I will get up when my alarm goes off and not lie in bed pressing 'snooze' for half an hour. I will not dread next year, but embrace it as an Italian adventure which will help mould me into a better, more rounded individual with more stories to tell. I will not eat sneaky bits of Christmas turkey when I think nobody is looking. I will achieve spiritual enlightenment. I will actually read books before seminars and do the prep. I will swap one hour of internet access with half an hour of Italian grammar every night. I will try my hardest to live in the moment, rather than over thinking everything. I will eat more fruit. I will arrive to nine o'clock lectures looking impeccably coiffed and having slept for at least seven hours. I will wear less make-up. I will lose a little bit of weight. I will watch at least one foreign film a week to make me both more cultured and a better linguist. I will not call my dog 'Crapbag' - it isn't fair to him. I will be nicer to my mother. I will be nicer to the Cretin. I will start buying newspapers rather than just reading them online. I will spend less money on clothes. I will spend less money in general. I will complain less when my feet are cold or I have a sore throat. I will cook exciting things, I will be less selfish and (most importantly) I will be kind to those in need of kindness.

That was a lot more things than I had planned. Now to slob around in my pyjamas all day doing none of these things. I feel like I need to end this with an up-beat song that will lift your spirits and send you hurtling positively into the new year, but I don't know many of those so it'll have to be The Smiths. Sorry about that...