Saturday, 24 December 2011

Happy New Year..... not.

11.59- Excitement runs through the air like an excitable child running down the stairs to find their presents on Christmas Day.  A sea of people flood the streets and not a single inch of the ground can be seen.  A few of them begin counting down to zero- not many though, the clock hasn't even reached the final ten seconds yet.  These are a few of the many drunk people walking the streets, some in funny costumes, others in their party gear.  Suddenly, the partying stops.  As still as statues, everyone gets ready for the ritual that is shouting '3, 2, 1- HAPPY NEW YEAR!' and the partying resumes. Meanwhile if you are like me this year and aren't properly celebrating New Year, it's a case of turning round to whoever has managed to keep their eyes open until this ridiculous hour, grunting 'Happy New Year,' and then disappearing to bed.  Great, New Years Eve over and done with for another year ('Thank God for that,' I mutter).

Don't get me wrong, I am not a scrooge.  I am the excitable child that I mentioned earlier, who runs down the stairs on Christmas Day to find her presents and tears the wrapping paper to shreds.  New Years Eve is another story.  I'm not afraid to admit that I turn into a miserable middle aged person if nothing is happening on New Years Eve and sit there, feeling obliged to stay up until 12 o'clock so that I can play my part in this holiday by saying 'Happy New Year'- and then go to sleep.  My strong desire to go to sleep, and many other reasons, is why I say 'Nah tar' to New Years Eve.   

Why are we celebrating the turning of a new year? Now my question may seem idiotic, but makes perfect sense to me.  Yes the year has changed, well done Sherlock, but is there any need to celebrate the start of another long year of our lives? Logic tells me that if we celebrate the start of a new year, it is only right to celebrate the start of a new month.  For example, next month will be the only January of 2012 in all of our lives, so lets go out dressed as a bumble bee, party the night away and return home at 3.00 in the morning with only one shoe and only a distant memory of the night. 

It is said that your childhood is the best time of your life, granted that is true.  But although I like being the awkward teenager that I am, being young can annoy me a bit.  One reason being that I can't go out dressed up to a nightclub, let my hair down and unleash my inner Dancing Queen, all because I am fifteen.  I can't hop in the car with my best friends and go on a mini-holiday to London for New Years Eve because of that annoying little number fifteen.  I am in no way wishing my life away; I love not having a mortgage to pay and not being able to count the ever growing number of wrinkles on my face.  However, I just wish that I could wake up a few years older- or alternatively there could be a decent event for teenagers to go to on New Years Eve. 

In my opinion, the whole celebration of New Years Eve is overrated.  People party, others don't, but I can guarantee that most people wake up on New Years Day feeling miserable.  Be it from the hangover from hell or the sheer realisation that we are into yet another year and aren't getting any younger, I find it slightly amusing that the start of the new year ironically isn't a very happy one.

Nevertheless, I am sure that once I reach seventeen or eighteen, I will fall into the trap of New Years Eve: Partying all night, being the dancing queen I was born to be, and waking up in the morning feeling absolutely rubbish, deep down knowing that I will foolishly be lured in by New Year's Eve's glistening exterior in three hundred and sixty four days time.  On that note, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

My take on the riots- remembering that I am a 15 year old teenager.

The riots, dominating the news and media for days on end, demonstrating what Britain has become and destroying lives.  It's hard to imagine that all this started by a small, peaceful protest because a policeman shot a 29 year old man.  Yet it kept escalating and escalating until for completely different reasons unknown to myself, people were attacking each other, burning anything in sight and thieving from shops.  I have my own, clear opinion of the 2011 riots and I hope that you can see that through my writing.

We all have things that we want to have in life.  The latest clothes, phone, CD- you name it.  Sometimes, we may be lucky enough to have them, other times we may not.  For example, I'm not going to lie in saying that I am always after the next trendy clothes from Topshop.  The feel of the material, the numerous outfits I could create from it are just a few of my thoughts when I've found an item of clothing that I want.  If someone were to say to me 'How much do you want that?' I may respond with an answer such as 'Quite a lot.'  But do I want that top so much that I would be willing to steal it? No.  'And why?' you may ask.  'Because I'm not dishonest,' I answer.  Although I have admitted that I want that garment, I would never lower myself to stealing it because I can't be bothered to pay for it myself or 'it seemed a good idea at the time.'  Sadly, this is what so many young adults, teenagers and even children did this year.  People did the unimaginable and destroyed shops and in reality peoples lives, all because they wanted that Blackberry phone for example, that they couldn't afford.

Leading me on to my next, and possibly bluntest point addressed to the rioters- if you want something, work hard, earn yourself some money, and then you can buy whatever you want.  I am aware that we are in a recession, times are hard and unemployment is high.  I can understand that you may badly want something, but use that to spur you on to make a success of yourself and then you can easily afford it.  One reason which I think is fairly logical, do you want a gorgeous dress with the security tag still secured and visible? Do you want the new, amazing Blackberry that is actually a model for the shop that doesn't even work? Want something- pay for it like everybody else.  You are being a good honest person that way and will get products in their best quality.

I was astounded this year by the amount of people that stole from shops in the riots, and I am aware that it wasn't just the 'horrible chavs' that we all assume it was.  People with good, wholesome backgrounds were involved, demonstrating that absolutely anyone can be a part of these terrible events.  There were vast amounts of people who stole, but not all of these can be bad people.  It's sad that a lot of these people stole because they thought they would get away with it as so many others appeared to do so at the time.  It's like school, when you think about it.  Your friend can be messing around in lessons and the teacher may not notice, but then when you both are the teacher will notice and you will get in trouble.

'The youth of today'- a phrase that I cannot stand to hear, but feels all the more relevant after this summers' events.  Adults can look upon us as though we are all vandals that just want to cause trouble and be a burden on society, when really this is only the minority of young people.  Are we all in hoodies ready to steal from our local shopping centre and cause havoc? No.  But the ones that are are the ones that ruin it for the majority and ultimately give us a bad name.  I hate the fact that some adults consider all young people to be thieving chavs, because there are the good teenagers as well, who simply get overlooked in the media because they are constantly trying to portray us in a negative light.

One question that springs to mind about the riots... did all of the rioters know what they were rioting about? Was every single person aware that they were protesting because a policeman shot an adult prior to these events? The sad truth is no.  People weren't setting cars on fire and stealing from the shops because they were upset about the death of Mark Duggan.  Many of them wouldn't have even known who Mark Duggan was.  Shops looted, building burnt, lives ruined, purely because people wanted an excuse to get all the material possessions that they couldn't afford and let off some steam by acting as vandals.

Ashamed to be a British teenager, is the viewpoint that I have of the riots.  The riots are another building block in the tower of negativity that has been created of young people.  I simply want to reiterate one of my main points by saying that everyone has the potential to have a great life if they work hard.  I have recently been told 'the world is your oyster,' which is true.  If everyone chooses to put in the hard yards to make something of themselves, they can do anything in this world.

Sunday, 25 September 2011

Why my school could not face the celebrity life

"Oh my god, my hair looks awful!"
"Has anyone got a mirror, I need to check my make-up!"

These were only a few of the cries of the girls in my year on photo day.  For the boys, it was like any ordinary photo, but for the girls- the day of Satan.  It's not like these were normal photo's, that you could delete off your camera if you didn't them.  These photos would haunt us for the rest of our lives, following us around like an unwanted pet that you were unable to get rid of, until eventually they would rear their ugly head and everyone would see that it belongs to you.

As soon as I walked into my school, I was overwhelmed with the amount of mirrors and hair flicking that I could see.  I knew that I didn't look perfect, but I thought I looked at least ok when I left the house.  To my dismay, even the prettiest girls in my year were fretting about their make-up and generally panicking.  Surely if the prettiest girls were worrying about how they looked, then the average ones like me should be running for the hills?

Prior to the photo's, the whole of my form time was spent panicking about my ever so slightly gappy fringe and the microscopic spot on my face that make the photographer hate me and therefore ruin the picture.

Nevertheless, we all had our photo's taken and were all relieved when they were finished.  That is, when we thought we were finished.  After we had our photo taken, we then had to walk round to the back of the line.  Standing there as confused as a blind man at a map reading competition, I had absolutely no idea what was going on.  Suddenly, the relaxed look on my peers faces turned to horror as they realised what was going on.  My friend sensed my confusion, turned to me and said
"We're having a class photo."  Panic resumed and I had to go through the painful cycle all over again.

This ridiculous, unnecessary day has lead me to believe that my school could not face the celebrity life.  In the future when we are adults... possibly.  But now? No way.

Like it or not, celebrities go from day to day being photographed.  Be it at a red carpet film premiere, or getting some bread in Asda, there is no escaping the paparazzi.  In Year 11, we were given just under a months notice for three photographs, I even went to the hairdressers the night before the photo.  Celebrities can't do this though.  They can't stop a photographer getting a snap of them taking a walk, first thing in the morning with bed hair and no make-up on.  Just take a second to imagine this happening to me and my year group- we would go absolutely mad!

When we received our photographs in form time, we were disgusted to find out that we had been airbrushed.  A minute mole under my lip- airbrushed.  My blonde hair- airbrushed to make me look like some sort of barbie.  Everyone was outraged.  Despite our complaints on photo day of our spots and bad hair, we were insulted that the photo company had noted down all our imperfections and had changed every single last one so that we didn't look like ourselves.  Of course, celebrities always face this form of insult when they are on magazine covers- even Kate Middleton's waist was made smaller by a magazine after the Royal Wedding! If we can't cope with being airbrushed on a school photo, how would we cope finding ourselves on a magazine, airbrushed so that our figure has been made to look tiny? The answer is, we wouldn't.

I therefore believe that me and my year group aren't ready for the celebrity life just yet.  A few school photo's are traumatic alone, let alone having our faces on 100,000 magazine copies across the country! Celebrity life? I'll stick to being an awkward teenager for now, thanks.

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Meh. Yes, you heard me, meh.

Isn't it odd that words we commonly use aren't in the English dictionary? Ginormous isn't in there.  Neither is chav.  What if I wanted to say 'What a ginormous group of chavs over there!'? Technically that doesn't count as a proper sentence, which ultimately means that a lot of the things I have been saying aren't correct.  But I ask you, oh brilliant English dictionary, what about meh?

Don't look so confused readers, I am sure you have all said meh from time to time.  In fact, I can guarantee you that the word meh graces my, and many other teenagers, vocabulary at least ones a day.  Unconvinced? I am going to prove to you why I think the word meh should be in the English dictionary.

Short, sweet, snappy- it's meh.  Just saying meh as a response can say as much as 5-10 words.  For example, you're friend says to you "What did you think of the X Factor yesterday?"
You negatively say "Meh," showing that you didn't think it was very good and therefore don't want to go into further conversation about it.  If you hadn't have said meh and instead replied something along the lines of "It wasn't particularly good last night," you would have said five more words that you actually needed to.

Being the ambiguous word that it is, meh can be used for a variety of different scenarios.  "How are you?" you're friend asks just that bit too cheerily whilst you sit there glaring.
"Meh," is your response and your friend instantly gets the message that you're in a bad mood and want them to shut up, without you actually having to offend them by saying it.

Don't worry, meh doesn't have to be all about hidden meanings and messages.  Your meh could be used when you simply can't be bothered to give a response.  Someone could be banging on about something wonderfully negative or horribly positive, and the word meh can fit the bill perfectly.  Again, here are a few examples.

Your friend: I am sick and tired of the boiler man.  We do the right thing and pay him, but all he does is destroy our boiler even more that the last time! Completely useless if you ask me!
You (bearing in mind you stopped listening at the word sick): Meh.

Your friend: It's such a lovely day today; the sun is shining, the birds are singing, life's just great!
You (forcing a smile and speaking more high pitched than intended): Mmmm meh!

So English dictionary, what do you think of my brilliant proposition? A word that can be used for every sort of situation imaginable! Oh you don't care, you think it's appalling, abysmal and utterly dreadful? You do realise you could of saved a significant amount of time and effort with that sentence... if you had just said MEH.

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

Obesity is rising, my fat cat should be careful.

There is no hiding that obesity levels are rising.  As the years go by, people are getting bigger and bigger to the extent that the basic necessity of walking is a chore.  Walking! Taking a light stroll to get the paper shouldn't cause pain, it should be what it says... a light stroll. 

Uh oh, there she comes.  Returning from her Roman feast of a dinner, her stomach wobbles like jelly as she plods along to where she wants to get to.  It is somewhat surprising how slow she walks, surely someone of her nature would walk a bit faster to work off that meal.  Here she comes, obvious as the thud of her against the door can be noticed subconsciously.  Here she is, my fat cat.

Cookie, a name with a slight twist of irony for a cat that loves her food.  And trust me, she loves her food.  If I asked you 'can cats bully each other?' I'm assuming that you would say no.  Don't be fooled.  As my mom puts out the food bowls for my cats, Cookie will eat on the right and Muffin on the left, a routine that they have put in place since birth.  However, Cookie can't be content with her own food, oh no.  After a couple of mouthfuls of her food, she will slyly bash into Muffin, leaving her watching on the sidelines as Cookie eats her food.  When Muffin protests- as anyone would do if their sibling stole their food- Cookie will 'take to the ring' and give her a good whack across the face, causing a silly mini-fight that results in Cookie winning and having Muffins food on top of her own. I think the 'finders keepers' rule is put into play here.

Before you start thinking 'That girl is mad, talking about her fat cat,' I must inform you of the facts.  When I took her to the vet, he said that she was very heavy and... obese, not morbidly obese yet...  but nearly diabetic.  So as any family with a cat in danger of obesity would, we put her on a diet.  Less food, more exercise- sorted.  Little did we know of course, how devious this cat really is.  We don't know how the mechanics of her little brain work to make her what I believe to be an evil genius.  This is because when returned from our holiday and picked her up from the cattery, we discovered that every time she was fed, she tried to make a bid for freedom and escape (luckily failing in doing so).  On a separate occasion proving that Cookie is a little mastermind, my neighbour one day said that Cookie just walked into his house, and fell asleep on his bed.  Not only is she defeating the object of her diet, she is breaking and entering! A few years ago, she even had the nerve to leave the present of  frog that she had skinned on their doorstep.  But that wasn't the only home she had invaded either...

If you take a mere twenty seconds to go on google, type in 'fat cats' and you will see creatures known as cats that I think are small bears.  Nevertheless, I don't want Cookie to look like that for a variety of reasons.  One- it will ruin the 'street cred' that she has earned from the other cats.  Two, I want my fat cat to live for a while and I don't want this to take her.  Finally three, frankly she's fat enough as she is and I'm not having a cat resembling a small bear.

This is why I have created a solution.  Admittedly it will never happen, but it could work...
My idea is 'I'm a Fat Cat- Get me Out of Here!' There are ten fat cats that need to lose weight, put them on a reality show in a confined area for three weeks with less food and opportunities to exercise.  Viewers have to choose their favourite cat and vote for who they believe to be... The King of the Fat Cats.  As well as losing weight, they will: get fit, form relationships with other cats, learn not to take out their aggression on other cats and realise what they need to achieve.  ITV producers- take that.

Friday, 9 September 2011

Farting jokes will never cease to amuse me

Again purely for comedic purposes, not to be taken seriously

Here I am; a mature and collected teenager- practically an adult. Back from holiday in Mallorca with my family, every night we watched the cabaret; one night being a comedy impressions show called ‘Zerox.’ Unlike most of the hotel ‘entertainment’ you encounter on holiday, this did its job because everyone went back to their hotel rooms that night with the content feeling that they had actually been entertained.
Zerox impersonated a variety of famous faces such as Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, Jedward- the list is endless. After a hilarious performance of Lady Gaga not knowing what she should be singing about, next in line was the famous scene from Titanic where Jack is holding Rose and they both have their arms out and- yeah you get the point. As he tenderly placed his arms around her waist and she lifted her arms out like she was spreading her wings, the audience- PARP! Myself and the rest of the audience were in heaps of laughter, as we realised he is encouraging her to fart.
‘Come on Rose, you can do it!’ Encourages Jack eagerly, his eyes glistening like- PARP! Once again, the audience is roaring with laughter as they continue farting away.But why, I ask myself, do we all find farting jokes so hilarious? What is it about our fine flatulence that commences the ripple of laughter? One of my school teachers was unfortunate enough to loudly move her mug in class and everyone was certain that she had 'let one rip.' She soon realised why we were all laughing and whilst laughing herself, said "Honestly, it was only a trumpy noise and you're all laughing!" We continued laughing for quite a while in fact.
Even at college though, there is no denying that I'll be laughing at farting jokes. And university... and the working environment. Let's face it- they're funny! Yes they can be gross, but it's difficult to conceal the laughter once it has begun. So don't feel embarrassed... even the Queen will have a royal hoot at a farting joke!

Monday, 29 August 2011

Confessions of an Inbetweeners fan

Have you seen the Inbetweeners movie? If yes, well done my friend, well done. If no... what are you waiting for? Today I saw the Inbetweeners movie with my mom, questionable as it may be, and I think I speak on behalf of everyone who has ever seen it when I call it the 'funniest movie of the year.'

For those who haven't seen the film, haven't heard of the Inbetweeners or live under a rock (I'm joking on that last one), let me fill you in.  The Inbetweeners is a sitcom revolving around the lives and humorous predicaments that four college boys - Will (the geek) Simon (supposedly the normal one, but isn't really), Jay (the one obsessed with girls and who makes a lot of things up) and Neil (the lovable idiot) - find themselves in.  Public embarrassment, trying to charm girls but repelling them in the process- these are only a few of the funny situations the boys can be in. 

Jetting of to the party paradise of Malia with the words 'Pussay Patrol' written on their t-shirts, the boys are expecting a luxury hotel, girls and lots of alcohol- the ultimate lads holiday.  However, they arrive at a run down hotel and are greeted by an unfriendly Greek owner who tells them that there is a strict £50 fine for pooing on the floor in the hotel room.  If you are 'squeemish' or simply don't like the sight of poo, I wouldn't recommend this film as it does tend to be fond of poo- oh yes, and sick.  Despite their bleak surroundings, on the night the foursome hit the town searching for the best nightclubs and girls, with hilarious results.  Embarrassing themselves on countless occasions, the boys don't exactly have the holiday that they were expecting but still manage to have fun along the way. 

Rivalling the success of this years box office hit 'The Hangover 2,' 'The Inbetweeners Movie,' has the hilarity spot on and can appeal to more than just the teenage demographic.  When I saw the film, it was packed with middle aged couples as well as teenagers, evidence that 'The Inbetweneers Movie' appeals to a mainstream audience.  The timing of the gags, the gags themselves; the script was tailored to suit the comedy the British love and it didn't disappoint. 

I could go on forever but I'm sure the point has been made clear now.  If you haven't seen 'The Inbetweeners Movie'- get out from under that rock and see it! It's laugh out loud hilarious, admittedly slightly vulgar but has the four characters we all know and love- what more can you want? If my forty-something year old mother can see it and like it... so can you!

Saturday, 27 August 2011

20 years time, my generation will be surviving on chips and nuggets

This article was purely written for entertainment purposes; whilst my Mallorca anecdote is true, please don't take the main points too seriously or offensively.

At 15 years old, I like to consider myself as an adventurous eater.  Whilst I am no human dustbin, I am willing to try different things- even if it means discretely spitting it out into a napkin. 

A few weeks ago, I went to Mallorca with my family.  I'm not going to beat around the bush, the food there was mouthwateringly delicious; there was never a day when I felt to myself that there wasn't something that I liked.  One day I made my way over to put some chips on my plate and I noticed a fellow teenager next to me getting some chicken nuggets.  Thinking nothing of it, I carried on piling the chips onto my plate (you need to make the most of all inclusive).  When I next looked up, there were now two other teenagers (both looking between 16 and 17) queueing up for the chicken nuggets.  To my horror, as the week went on, everyday teenagers would be queueing up for the nuggets and other minuscule child's portions whilst the proper food was being ignored!  Seventeen year olds, eighteen year olds- all at the nuggets! Even some guys in their late teens, earlier strutting around the pool like they were some sort of Baywatch studs, were turning their noses up at the everything and just settled on some chips and nuggets.  This, along with many other reasons, is why I think that in twenty years time, my generation will still be surviving on frozen chips and nuggets from our local supermarket
I speak on the behalf of the youth (as my Dad likes to call us) when I say that we are a nation of fussy eaters- fact.  Or if we aren't fussy, we aren't particularly adventurous.  We don't explore for something new, like Christopher Columbus when he discovered America, we don't strive to improve our diets like Jamie Oliver- instead we indulge ourselves in junk food, some of which being chips and nuggets.  Sure they're simple to cook and in no way time consuming, but is this what we want to be eating? Cheap frozen food from the supermarket? 

Flash forward to 2031.  By then, a lot of my generation will be married and have children (scary thought I know).  When it gets to tea time, do we create a steaming culinary concoction? No way! Twenty years on and a lot may have changed, but not in the ways of food.  We'll still be overindulging in our precious frozen food, only this time it will be us cooking it, not our parents.  No fruit, certainly no vegetables, and the healthy diets Jamie Oliver wanted us all to have? Gone in a blink of an eye.  If we carry on the way that we are, there is no escaping that we will all be fat, and so will our children.  Child obesity numbers rise every year, so imagine what the world will be like if we carry on eating our unhealthy food.

 Therefore I believe that in twenty years time, my generation will still be surving on chips and nuggets; any form of food known as 'healthy' will be scientifically removed from the face of the earth and we will all be the shape of giant footballs.  And off I go to scoff a good old McDonalds.....

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

My Scary Summer Part 2

Thought my scary summer was over? It had only just begun.
After reading my last post, you may have assumed that I am a bit of a wimp and if you did- you're right.  As well as being a little bit scared of rollercoasters, I am absolutely petrified of needles and injections.  So having a blood test isn't my cup of tea.  I'd never had to have a blood test in the past, but if the injections we'd had to have at school were anything to go by, it was going to be painful. 

On the way to The Devils Kitchen (aka. the hospital) I started to ask my mum if a blood test is painful.  As my mum began to describe it in more detail than I had hoped, I could feel myself slowly tensing up.  My back first, so I was curling forward, then my arms began to contract until I looked... like a turtle.  All at the mere thought of a blood test.

After waiting an excruciatingly long amount of time- ok it was 15 minutes or so- for my ticket number, a computer generated voice slowly read out my number.  It was time, to face, the needle.  I hesitated a glance through the curtain and had the urge to run out.  The woman I had to see had bright purple hair.  I have nothing against people with bright purple hair (infact I quite liked her hair) but I was rather hoping for a jolly old lady who would have a natter about the summer holidays, than a woman who resembled a tattoo artist more than a nurse.

Saying that I sat down on the chair, every single inch of my body filled with fear.  It's strange what fear can do to you.  In my case it made me sit down and babble to my mom and the nurse about how scared I was of what was about to happen.  I went through apparently the normal procedure of a blood test; having to clench my fist as tight as I can whilst she squeezed the life out of my arm with the 'tightening thing,' as I liked to call it.  As soon as my eyelids shut, I felt the sharp needle jab into my arm. 
"Ow, ow, ow, ow.  Oh god, oh god, oh god,' was all I could bring myself to say as my mum, brother and the nurse chuckled at my pain (see the link to my last post?!) A few seconds later, the pain began to go down and stupidly, I thought that the blood test was over.  Overwhelmed by a sense of relief, I opened my eyes, ever so slightly moved my arm and 'Ow, ow, ow, ow.'  The blood test wasn't over.  It had barely started.

I continued with the 'ows' and 'oh gods' until at long last, the blood test was over.  I was free! Making my escape, I bolted out of The Devils Kitchen, relieved that I had made it out alive.  I may have curled up like a turtle, over used the words 'ow' and 'oh god,' and had a dead arm, but my blood test was finally over.  And so was my scary summer.

Tuesday, 23 August 2011

My Scary Summer Part 1

I have been very fortunate that in my life, I have never felt truly scared.  Well, apart from seeing 'The Woman In Black' theatre production in London (absolutely and undeniably terrifying) and a few horror films here and there, I have never felt true fear or felt unsafe.

Until now.  The summer holidays.  Supposedly the time when we are supposed to relax and have fun.  On Wednesday 17th August 2011 that all changed.  Me, my mum, brother and some family friends were going on a trip to a park in Stourport, where there are usually some rides.  I've been there about three or four times before, so I knew what to expect.

Initially, the day was going quite well.  We went on a small boat driven by my 11 year old brother and survived.  I'd been on the previously terrifying dragon ride and realised that it is terrifying- when you are 10.  After somewhat attempting to fall down a slide (yes, you read that right) gracefully and going on a slightly painful spinning ride, it was all well and good in Stourport park.

That is, it was all well and good until I opted to go on yet another spinning ride, something very out of character for the 'ride wimp' that I see myself as.  However, I decided to go on the ride, despite still being extremely dizzy from the last ride.  I'd been on this ride earlier in the day, so I knew what I was in for; being crammed into a small spinning pod with someone else, whilst the whole ride spins up and down until you are completely disorientated when you make your escape.

Chuckles- what I called the man running the ride due to the fact that when I previously screamed like a maniac, he did what his name said, had a good old chuckle at my fear on the ride- took one look at me and let out a small but clear laugh.  Not a friendly 'You were a bit funny on the ride earlier' laugh, more like an evil and slightly deranged 'This is what I get paid for, watching these fools in fear' laugh.

Nevertheless I got on the ride with my friend and realised that in actual fact, it wasn't too scary.  Comparing it to some of the unimaginably scary rides at Alton Towers, it was alright.  So me and my friend sat there, spinning round and round as I laughed and said 'What was I scared of? This is fine!'  I shouldn't have said that, it was a stupid thing to say.  At that moment, I could feel a slight pain in my head.  The start of a headache maybe? No, I don't get headaches that often, I thought to myself.  I then realised it was dizziness.  Such an overpowering feeling and when on a ride, so horrible. 

I started to scream, louder and louder, this time truly fearful that I was going to be sick.  Of course, no one realised that; my mom, brother and friends were completely oblivious and kept waving every time I spun round into their view.  Which, come to think of it was quite a lot.  Whilst screaming, I glanced over to Chuckles, who yet again was in his own little world of menacing laughter.

By now I was feeling terrible.  The mini sick had been done (where you're slightly sick but swallow it, disgusting I know), my stomach was ready and I knew what was coming.  The ride came to a sudden stop, and Chuckles strolled over.  As he lifted up the bar to put me out of my misery- I was sick.  All inside the ride.  I'd had a raspberry drink earlier, resulting in my sick being pink.  If it weren't sick it may have strangely looked pretty.  Now when you're sick on a ride, it's difficult to think of something to say afterwards, so I looked up at Chuckles and slowly said 'I have been sick, I am sorry.'  When I got off the ride I was sick again, this time on the lovely red carpet on the ground that is now called 'The sick covered red carpet at the dry cleaners.'  Oh yes, and on myself.  This regrettably included my new Topshop shorts and my favourite shoes.  I won't bore you with too many more details but I was also sick through my nose, which was the moment that I discovered that it is possible to be sick through your nose.

I took my walk of shame and was somewhat proud that Chuckles had his comeuppance and had to close his ride to clean my beautiful pink sick.  I suppose all this serves me right for going on a ride that has the word 'Hell' at the beginning.  Should have gone to specsavers...

Monday, 22 August 2011

15 going on 50

Sometimes when I listen to the music in today's charts, I feel embarrassed.  Embarrassed that a lot of the music doesn't have any real meaning behind it and whilst the artists are saying a lot of words, not much is actually being said.  Of course only a few artists are like this; there are some who's songs have a true story behind them and they've clearly spent a long time thinking about what the song means.  Two names that instantly come to mind: Adele and Beyonce.  Two of my favourite artists so yes, I am slightly biased. 

But one group who I didn't used to particularly like and now absolutely love... Queen! I know what you're thinking (if you are my age) 'God, my Dad listens to them!' Well congratulations, so does my Dad and I couldn't care less! Queen formed 40 years ago in 1971 and their music is still popular! 'Why' you may ask? 1971 or 2011, people can create their own meaning Queens music, making the songs feel closer to them.  For example with Bohemian Rhapsody, Freddie Mercury said that it doesn't have a meaning, but Brian May went on to say that Freddie was a complex person who put a lot of himself, happiness and sadness, into the song.  In other words, Mercury is letting us feel the song and have the chance to put our own ideas to it, whilst Brian May is saying that although there isn't one specific meaning, Mercury put so much of himself into the song that it reflected upon him, and therefore had a meaning to him. 

The main reason I started to like Queen's music was when I saw the musical 'We Will Rock You,' and I can say without a doubt that it is the best musical I have ever seen (and I have seen a fair few musicals).  Being able to create a whole story and such complex characters from different songs off their album is genius in my eyes.  I won't go into the details of the story because let's face it, we will be here all day and I will be reduced to typing 'OMG IT WAS SOOOOO AMAZING!' loads when I know you don't want to hear this.  All I will say is that 'We Will Rock You' is worth every penny; seeing it once wasn't enough for me and I have now seen it three times, but I could honestly see it thirty times without failing to be entertained (my Dad has seen it 6 times and still loves it!)

Words can't express how jealous I am of my Dad.  He went to a Queen concert in the 80's.  If Freddie Mercury were here today, I would definitely be hounding my parents for tickets to a Queen concert if I hadn't already seen them.  Although I love Beyonce, Adele, Rihanna etc. I will admit if I could I would choose Queen over them any day.  So so many reasons, one of them being that even though it's nice to see a solo artist enjoying themselves performing on stage, nothing beats a band performing as you can see them all contribute to make an amazing final product.

In my eyes, Queen are a musical inspiration and their worldwide success is only one way of justifying this.  Although Freddie Mercury passed away in 1991, his the other members of Queen's music lives on and I see them as legends in music and I think they will be forever remembered as this.

Celebrity scandals? We don't care!

*This was another article I wrote for my school newspaper in June 2011
Imagine you are taking a stroll to your local newsagents; you glance over to the newspapers, looking forward to reading the news.  However, to your dismay you find it is yet another image of Cheryl Cole, the headline describing how she was ‘dumped’ by the American X Factor executives.
Celebrity’s lives are covered excessively by newspapers to the extent that the so called ‘news’ is just about their daily lives, doing things or going places that everyone goes.  ‘Jolie-Pitt brood take a visit to an L.A park’- and? This is like me telling an endless story of how I recently went to Tesco and bought a pint of semi-skimmed milk- no one cares! Celebrities are normal people who do normal daily tasks, only they get their weekly supermarket shop in the papers.
But do celebrities want this? Do they want to come out of the gym one afternoon to find that they are being hounded by the paparazzi and discover that they and their sweaty gym clothes have made the front page the next day? Imagine coming out of school to find the paparazzi shoving cameras in yours and you’re friends faces- it’s exactly the same! 
Celebrities’ lives are covered whilst they are doing their job, and yet they are still being harassed when they are just getting some precious alone time to themselves or with their family.  Those are the moments when the paparazzi should say ‘Well this is a boring story, I’ll hassle someone else today.’
Nevertheless, the news never switches off, and reporters will simply move on to the next celebrity.  Celebrities such as Catherine Zeta Jones and Dougie Poynter were checked into rehab due to stress, just think: ‘Could the paparazzi have caused this?’
Furthermore, I know it is nice to pick up ‘Heat’ or ‘Hello’ and read the gossip, but is it really relevant to our lives? We don’t want the paparazzi hassling our celebrities for news about their divorce; we don’t want news about five year old Suri Cruise’s designer wardrobe...WE WANT REAL NEWS.  Local, national, global, anything!  As long as we can feel that we are being informed of something important, rather than losing brain cells by the second.  So reporters and paparazzi out there- give our celebrities a break! And if it’s any consolation, I won’t be watching the American X Factor.

Rejoice! Winter is Over!

*I wrote this for my school newspaper in Spring, as you may have gathered
As I sit here, gazing out of the window on this gloriously sunny spring day, I take a moment to think of how relieved I am that winter is finally over.
‘What is she thinking?’ I hear you cry.  ‘Is she the Grinch?’ In actual fact I’m not.  I happen to be as ecstatic as a young child when it comes to Christmas, it’s just winter that gets on my nerves more and more each year.
First of all- how mad the weather sends us.  Picture a light snow shower.  As I would walk down the street wrapped up in what felt like 100 layers and yet still slowly freezing to death, I would be left astounded to see people JOGGING.  In their t-shirt and shorts (SUMMER WEAR).  What?! I have much appreciation for their dedication to their fitness, but jogging- in the snow? Well they couldn’t get mad at me when I laughed at them if they slipped...
Isn’t the irony of the British weather annoying? No sun in the summer, purely rain.  But yet somehow, we ended up getting practically blinded by sunlight in the winter.  Were we being mocked? Although the Sun was out in the winter, we wouldn’t receive any heat from it- that’s why we are freezing cold all of the time!
Despite Mr Sun making a surprising appearance, winter always left us feeling grey and depressed.  This can be known as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), also known as the ‘winter blues.’  So thanks winter, you’re great aren’t you!
It brought us crazy snow joggers, ridiculous weather, bad moods and so much more.  If only humans could hibernate in the winter!

Celebrity documentaries are the last thing on my list

Oh dear, I am in a dilemma.  Should I watch ‘What Katie did Next’ on the television, or paint drying?  Whilst watching paint drying is undoubtedly one of the most boring ways to spend my time imaginable, I would rather gnaw away at my own hand than watch Miss Price take her weekly trip to the salon. 

This isn’t at all a way of fuelling an attack on Katie Price; I simply don’t care what she supposedly did next.  Likewise for Kerry Katona and Peter Andre, frankly the thought of their ‘Next Chapter,’ as they call it leaves me feeling completely underwhelmed.  Not because I don’t like these people, they have all clearly worked hard to get to where they are at, but I honestly don’t see the point of ‘celebrity home documentaries.’

Picture yourself when you wake up in the morning, you have just woken up but you would much rather go back to sleep.  You take a second to acknowledge how luxuriously comfortable your bed actually is.  You’re eyes are going and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to... ‘Wake up!’ A hard nudge and you’re awake.  ‘And we’re filming in 5, 4, 3, 2-’ I don’t know about you, but to find a camera in my face when I have just woken up, my hair resembling a toilet brush (as it does in the morning) and my mood as sour as a lemon that has gone off, I would be far from happy.Nevertheless, celebrities can somehow cope with this. Camera crews are welcomed with open arms into their lives; if it means having their moment in the sun then surely they can cope with every Tom, Dick and Harry running round after them? Get up; get filmed, on telly in a couple of months- easy as pie.  

They are filmed doing the day to day things that we all do.  Cooking for example, when we commoners do it- well that’s it really, we cook; we eat our food- done.  But when we see that a celebrity can master the art of cooking a Sunday dinner- it’s the second coming!  To the worlds dismay I have to inform you that water will regrettably not be turned into wine because the undeniable truth is that... they are normal people.  They cook, they eat- only their Sunday roast graces thousands of Britain’s television screens.

However, it isn’t all happiness and Sunday roasts.  One family, one camera crew, and many months of filming can’t be good for any family.  Everything appears to be going fine; we have even stretched to being almost jealous of their visibly perfect lives until.... the argument happens.  The ‘perfect life’ facade immediately vanishes as we watch the home truths of the family unravel into an eruption of an argument.  Insults and remarks are thrown back and forth like a tennis match; whilst we feel all the more uncomfortable watching people we don’t even know treating each other so badly.  So we should! If I was having an argument with my family, I would hate the thought of someone being able to pause and rewind it on their televisions, using it as a tool for their own amusement.

Saying that though, some of the arguments are as ‘real’ as the people taking part in the show.  In other words they are fake.  I’m aware that families do have the occasional shouting match, but given the choice, why on earth would they have it in front of a camera?  Yes, these shows involve celebrities being followed around by cameras a lot, but not every minute of every day- meaning they can save the argument for when the camera crew are on their lunch break.  Plummeting back to reality, whilst celebrity documentary arguments are awkward to watch there is no hiding that we secretly love them and enjoy watching the tennis match of verbal abuse develop.  I hate to break it to all you KUWTK fans (Keeping Up With the Kardashians, ‘keep up!’ as they might wittily say) Stars such as Kim and Khloe Kardashian will have been made well aware of this by the producers, and will be instructed now and again to have an argument. 
As you may or may not have gathered, I could go on about celebrity documentaries until the cows come home, but I would never be able to finish.  My final thoughts on this lengthy topic, are that I am glad I am not in the shoes of say ‘The Hills’ stars or ‘The Kardashians,’ as my life is my life; I can wake up with my toilet brush hair without a camera in my face, I am not patronizingly celebrated for being able to cook food and if I argue with my family, I haven’t got strangers potentially laughing at the humour we bring to them.  Even celebrities though do want some privacy, as does Kourtney Kardashian when in KUWTK she controversially says ‘I don’t need people walking into my house whenever they please.’ Oh the irony.

Hi World!

My name is Sarah Mullaney, I'm 15 years old and I am going to be truthful with you- I have a passion for writing.  From an early age I have loved to write and I know that it is definitely the career I want to go into when I am older.  Today I was writing an article (which I will publish in a minute!) and my dad suggested I created a blog to post my articles to.  So here I am now, ready and willing to write a variety of different articles so that I can practice my writing and also- have fun! Although I may have a bit of a rant in my articles (which I apologise in advance for) I hope that they are interesting and provide entertainment for you- the reader! Earlier in the summer holiday, I read 'The World According to Clarkson' and was inspired (as cliche as it sounds) to create a similar book entailing all the funny things that happen to me and my thoughts about various aspects of life (which was originally going to be called 'The Big Wide World According to a Teenager')However now I will publish my articles here, and will publish them into a book another day.  I will try to do at least one article a week, but I'll be going into Year 11 soon and as the work load goes up, it will result in my free time-sadly- going down.  So I apologise if I don't write loads of articles, but I hope you like the ones that I write and leave comments if you want to :)

Sarah Mullaney