you should sit with me and we'll start again.

Once upon a time, I updated this blog every three days or so. Back then, I was in sixth form, living in Kidderminster full-time, and yet seemed to have an abundance of things to write about. Now, I am older and a bit more emotionally stable, this obviously results in less compulsive reading for me, let alone you lot. Nonetheless, I miss it, and I miss people arguing with every little thing I write, so I think the time has come to start up properly again.

At the moment I'm really enjoying being in Italy, even though it's rainy and full of men who tell you to smile as you're walking down the street minding your own business. This happens increasingly often, and I feel like apologising to them because my head is not always full of fluffy thoughts of puppies and lollipops. Sometimes I have thoughts. And sometimes I like to think about these thoughts, resulting in the smile momentarily disappearing from my face. I can't do two things at once.

Currently still off the Facebook bandwagon, I felt like I needed more of a social networking hit, so I've rejoined Twitter. For those of you interested, as of yesterday, I am now Mindbopping rather than just Mindbop. They wouldn't let me reprise my account after some scallywag hacked into it (there is a pattern emerging here) so I thought I'd start again. Simple. 

The thing is, I love the internet - probably far too much - but it simply doesn't love me. Too many unpleasant things have happened to me over the internet, and my interest is waning. The few sites now that are keeping me sweet are Skype (which has made this year bearable), Wordreference and Texts from Last Night (just because). Oh and The Guardian... and Tumblr... and now Twitter... forget it, I frigging love the internet, as cruel a mistress as it may be!

I have two months left here. I'd really rather not leave, but there are definitely things worth going home for, and I'm trying to arrange my summer so that I won't be too Romesick by the middle of August.

Here is some Bright Eyes, because if don't post anything by him for too long, the universe implodes.

And here is some Frightened Rabbit, to bring you back up.

we decided just to write after all.

I sometimes have a tendency to get too hung up in music my mother would call "durgey" and forget all about good music played on guitars and drums - the old fashioned way. And while I love clinky piano music and whingey ballads, there's nothing quite like listening to someone sing as loudly as they possibly can about girls and heartbreak and everything that makes music good. Maximo Park have talent and volume in oodles, and I think they are splendid.

Another thing about this band that may appeal to you is the singer Paul Smith, who is not to be confused with the fashion designer. This one does not make cologne, nor will he charge you seventy quid for a wallet. In fact, he may not sell you a wallet at all. The one I'm talking about looks sort of like a cross between a Victorian undertaker and a Tim Burton creation. He has a Geordie accent (the nice kind, not the Cheryl Cole kind) and jumps around a lot. That's the gist really.

Anyway, their first album A Certain Trigger was completely brilliant - all anger and angst and dancing around in your room on a Wednesday night in a hat of some sort. Next came Quicken the Heart, which was pretty much flawless. It was one of the few albums I had on my 1GB Sony MP3 player, back when I was fifteen, miserable and spotty, and had a paper round. I have a very clear memory (though some of those turn out to have been dreams) of a very rainy Thursday evening delivering the Kidderminster Shuttle for next to no money and listening to this record and it sort of making everything okay again. 

Their third album was pants. But we'll ignore that...

And now they have a new album coming out! Hurrah! I am more excited than I was about the return of Mad Men and I am even considering coming home to see them on their little mini tour in June. But maybe that would be excessive! 

To celebrate, here are my five favourite Maximo Park songs. I hope you enjoy them! And if it's raining where you are (it certainly is here), just think - at least you aren't fifteen. And if you are fifteen... erm... it'll get better? 

• Graffiti - "I'll do graffiti if you sing to me in French" - Deal!

• Books from Boxes 

• Apply Some Pressure - "What happens when you lose everything? You just start again. Start all over again."

• Nosebleed - "Did we go too far? Is that why your nose is bleeding?"

• Girls who play Guitar - "It's her life and a life is worth living."

still on my feet.

This cover of Joni Mitchell's A case of you is astonishingly lovely and according to iTunes, I've listened to it fifty eight times. Sounds about right. Up until now, though, I'd never seen the video, featuring Rebecca Hall whom I have loved ever since the first time I saw Starter for Ten. She almost ruined it with Vicky Christina Barcelona which is bad. Really really bad. But this is great, so she's back in my good books. And James Blake never left them.



Due to unforeseen circumstances, I have deleted my Facebook account. I think I'll stick with it for the time being because already today, I have read an awful lot, and this has to be better for the little grey cells. No doubt I will return soon enough, but for now I feel fairly liberated.

Today, I was walking to the supermarket (I use the term lightly. Think Netto mixed with an Esso Garage and you'll get the right idea) down the street from me. I was not immodestly dressed, I wore a long sleeved t-shirt, a knee length skirt and a leather jacket. A middle aged woman stared at my bare legs in disbelief, and without even trying to disguise her abhorrence, tutted at me and mumbled "disgraceful". I would have been surprised were it not for the fact that I seem to be living in a country where they cannot tell hot from cold. Today was beautifully sunny and hit 21°C at midday which is when I ventured out. This is the equivalent of British summertime, and dammit I'll get my legs out if I bloody want to. 

our good fortune allowed us to feel a sadness our parents didn't have time for.

In general, I'm not really a film person. As I get older, my attention span seems to be getting shorter and my ability to will myself to do... well anything is lessening day by day. And I know that watching a film isn't exactly hard work, you just sit there and it unfolds before you, but anything over ninety minutes and I get bored. And then I start doing something else. And the film never gets finished, and it hangs over me like a credit card bill. I find film-watching an overall depressing pastime. I watched Beginners the other day, and all it did was make me sad. I watched The Rebound today, and all it did was make me sad, but in a very different way.

But yes, I really do need a pastime. I've started running again in a bid to spend all summer on the beach, but that is more a grueling necessity than something I find enjoyable. Perhaps I should devote myself entirely to learning the Italian language - I do really love learning grammar - but it's just so hard, and I find it difficult when the man from whom I buy coffee sniggers at my pronunciation, let alone when people I actually like are listening to me butcher their language.

I've started reading a lot more, and strive to do this outdoors now that it's getting warmer and I'm beginning to discover all the open spaces Rome has to offer that seemed to hibernate over the winter. Currently, I'm trawling through the Stieg Larsson books. I say trawling, I am absolutely loving them, and I just can't stop turning the pages (pressing the "next page" button on my Kindle). I am yet to see either version of the film, but I'd like to finish the trilogy first so I can make up my own mind about how everyone looks and sounds. It's a nerd thing.

I suppose cooking could be my pastime, but I don't really have any money, so buying fancy ingredients is a bit of a struggle, and I invariably end up making pasta. It's one of the side effects of living in Italy.

Drinking, shopping and museum-going also all fall into the not enough money category. Basically I need ideas for things to do that are free and require little or no effort. Let me know!

I've included this video, not because I like the song but because I think she has a funny singing manner and feel you should appreciate this. She has a similar demeanour to a nodding dog.

put ya cape on, you a super hoe...

Happy International Women's Day!

One of the greatest annoyances in my life is that often when the topic of feminism comes up, people say to me "Feminism is all very well and good, but I hate it when "they" think they are superior to men". And I tend to nod along. Sometimes I venture that this isn't really the idea of feminism, but I tend to wilt under the glower that greets me. I am a feminist, but I am also hideously shy, and sometimes I don't stick up for my gender as I perhaps should.

For my eighth birthday, my mum took me to see S Club 7. They were possibly the worst "band" who ever existed, but I loved them as loyally as I now love Radiohead or The Cure. And they were so innocent. They sang about love and summer and lovely things, and they weren't remotely sexual. I was brought up on The Spice Girls who were much more sexcentric (Two Become One) but advocated girl power and taught girls to think for themselves (in their own little way).

About three years ago, I helped at Brownies for a bit. I only did this to get my Duke of Edinburgh award, and there was nothing altruistic in it at all. However, I did it. I was a Guide. It made sense. I don't really like children, but some of them were not that bad. I still remember my heart breaking however, when at the "Christmas Concert" (glorified karaoke session), a group of the girls decided to do a dance to "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls. It was horrific. They were about nine years old.

This was a few years ago. Things have changed a bit, possibly for the better, but now there are The Saturdays who whinge on all the time about unrequited love. Everyone wears so much make up. There are Bratz instead of Sylvanian Families, and Nicky Minaj says the word "hoe" an awful lot.

I really don't want to be too quick to condemn this new generation as doomed, and I'm sure that people thought the same about us when Blue (Dabadee) came out in 1998. I was seven. But the thing is, shitty Europop is inoffensive, and Nicole Sherzinger is anything but.

Happy Women's day everyone.

amser darogan y sgor.

This weekend has been a long one, and frankly, I am zonked.

My darling mother came to visit, which would have been nice, but she brought half of Lye with her. I'm not sure how many of you have been to Lye, but it does not churn out the best house guests. Luckily, they were all ushered away into a nearby hotel which meant I could come and go at my leisure rather than being stuck with them. I am stuck however with my rediscovered Black Country accent. I'm sure it will be diluted in time.

Yesterday, we went to watch the England vs Italy Six Nations match at the Stadio Olympico, which was a lot of fun, though Clare and I ended up freezing our faces off, even though I was wearing nine layers. And a hat. It was nice to watch rugby with someone who didn't take it too seriously, and we had a lot of fun trying (and failing) to rival the Italians in terms of volume. It was a lucky victory. The reason I am no good at being a sports fan (not that I try all that hard) is because I always feel too sorry for the losing team. So much so that I forget to celebrate when my team wins. I've also never quite got round to mastering hooliganism.

My mum brought me an England shirt to wear for the match. Though I felt a bit like I was betraying my beloved Wales, I wore it anyway, figuring that in a crowd where Brits were massively outnumbered, the men in white needed all the help they could get. Besides, I can support two teams, right? I'm still backing Wales to win, and that's what matters at the end of the day. Probably. My pick of the tournament (from my very scientific analysis) is the lovely Leigh Halfpenny who is just so Welsh and has quite nice twinkly eyes.

I quite like it when people come to stay, because it means I get to show off the city a bit, and fall back in love with it myself. I've been feeling really homesick, and it's been good to remind myself that I have a very cushy deal in life at the moment. I'm still really looking forward to popping home in just over a week though, and when I get back, spring will have sprung. This is what I keep telling myself, because I swear it is not supposed to be this snowy in the Mediterranean. They reckon seasonal variation is good for the soul, but I am sick of winter now, and ready for the sun to come back.

This is probably my favourite eighties song. And that is saying a lot. Good night everyone, I hope you have a nice week.

never really had a doubt.

I love Beyoncé. I have loved her since Destiny's Child released 'Survivor' and I decided I was a feminist. I also think she's probably the most beautiful woman in the whole world. And considering she's a supermegastar, she doesn't seem to be too much of a dick, unlike the Gagas and Minajes of this world (not that they don't have their place too). I know I can be a bit of a ponce about music, but I love pop just as much as I love all the obscure stuff, and Beyoncé will always have a place in my heart. Also, when the charts are still filled with bikini-clad girls, Beyoncé shows young women everywhere that confidence and power (and thighs) are infinitely sexier than stripping off.

So in celebration of her brilliance, here are my top ten Beyoncé songs, in no particular order.

• 1 - Crazy in Love. The ultimate power couple. What did we do before them? It must have been an empty existence.

• 2 - Listen - The best break-up song ever? Possibly. I loved this song, so I watched the film 'Dreamgirls', which seemed like exactly my cup of tea, but it was terrible. Really really terrible. Nonetheless, every broken-hearted girl will feel better if she stands in front of a mirror, miming this into a hairbrush. Cliché? Me? 

• 3 - Irreplaceable - "I can have another you in a minute, and in fact he'll be here in a minute." This one's for that other sort of breakup - the one where your friends admit that they never liked him anyway and you sort of always knew that he was a bit of a nonce. The solution? Parade around in your underwear and rollers to show the bastard what he's missing. 

• 4 - Halo - About the one that sticks. This was Eilish and Bob's first dance at their wedding, and I don't think there was a dry eye in the room. D'aww.

• 5 - Sweet dreams - Just. So. Good. And that dance she does at 2:20 would not be cool if anyone else in the world did it. But I dare you to try...

• 6 - Love on Top - Because with the release of this song, Beyoncé can pretend 'Telephone' never happened, and get back to doing what she does best - belting out fun songs and dancing in an un-mimicable sort of way. 

• 7 - Single Ladies - Like it or loathe it, it's impossible to ignore. In the words of Kanye West, it's the best music video of all time, and though we are all thoroughly sick of it, and groan when it comes on, it's pretty much iconic, and I couldn't bring myself to leave it out. It's another one that is a lot of fun to dance to alone in your room on a Tuesday night. Not that I ever do that.

• 8 - Beautiful Liar - This came out five whole years ago. I was fifteen and boys everywhere thought this video was the best thing since sliced bread. Beyoncé and Shakira on one screen, gyrating. A little bit obvious, yes, but they have hips so it doesn't incense me. I'm not saying it's not hypocritical. It's also pretty catchy...

• 9 - If I were a boy - I'm not sure anyone really understands what this song or the video are about, but I think she's basically saying that she would make a better man than her man. Maybe.

• 10 - Survivor - For old time's sake.