Firstly I shall start off by warning you that I don’t really have anything interesting to say here. I haven’t had another epiphany whilst 850 feet in the air, and I’m not about to start putting the world to rights. *shakes fist* Libya Cameron mumble mumble *shakes fist*.
But my charming editor friend
I best tell you what I’ve been up to, then. Mostly I’ve just been writing my dissertation and various other essays; I finish my degree in exactly 45 days (holy Mother of all that is sacred) so I’ve been reading and writing like a thing possessed.* But that’s cripplingly boring for me, so it’d be twice as bad if I tried to relay the horrors to a casual passer by. Swiftly moving on...
*I wish that were true. Mostly I’ve just been watching late night programmes with dubious titles such as ‘CLUB REPS GONE WILD!’, and eating Nutella from the jar.
Sunday
I had a lovely evening on Sunday; for Christmas I’d bought mum tickets to see Sarah Millican at Venue Cymru, Llandudno, and the show had finally come around. I’d already seen Sarah’s Chatterbox tour in Birmingham with Lauren back in October, but I was more than happy to see it again. That alone should give you an indication as to how blooming fantabulous the show is! Honestly, my cheeks ached by the end of it (face cheeks, I wasn’t clenching) from laughing so much. As she openly admits, her humour is a little ruder than when she’s on the telly, which of course is just a bonus! Mum was in stitches throughout and now wants tickets to the next tour… which I will also be seeing in Birmingham, too! Looks like you’ve got yourself a groupie, Millican… ;-)
Before going to the theatre we went to a Chinese restaurant in Llandudno, which was delicious, but the oddest looking couple came and sat adjacent to us half way through. I’ll be blunt - they looked exactly like paedophiles. Exactly. It felt like I was on a picnic with Fred and Rose West. They were painfully thin; he was completely bald on top but with thick, grey, wiry hair emerging from around the rest of his head like a ring of thorns. He was wearing lavender coloured jogging bottoms that looked like they’d been slept in, and a heavy, patterned jumper. Her hair, on the other hand, looked like a soccer helmet made of Brillo pads, and she too was wearing a similar indigo ensemble. Their cheeks were gaunt, their eyes were beady, and they looked like they had a patio full of secrets at home. Secrets and bones. The waiter came to their table and, before he could breathe a word, they both proudly proclaimed “We’re vegetarians”.
For the first time since they’d walked in the room, mum and I tore our eyes away and looked at each other.
Mum: “You know why they’re vegetarians, don’t you?”
Me: “Because they feast on the flesh of humans instead?”
Mum: “Exactly. And they’ve got their eye on you, so I’d be careful. Did you hear her? ‘Ey, Bert, don’t fill yourself up. We could get at least a week out of that one there’”.
My mother, ladies and gents. Too kind. Just, TOO KIND! Luckily I managed to escape before the West’s could put me on a pancake with a bit of plum sauce, but for a while it was touch and go.
Monday
The afternoon was filled with seminars, but in the evening I went to zumba with Lindsey. If you’re wondering what zumba is, it’s basically a variety of different dance styles all rolled into one high-intensity class. For instance, our routine involves a lot of salsa, hip-hop, samba, flamenco, some Bhangra, all tied up with a yoga type cool-down at the end. As the songs change, so does the routine, meaning you are - literally - kept on your toes throughout. Zumba is awesome.
I, however, am not.
I have the co-ordination of a blind blow fish, and while everyone else in the class seemed to be moving fluidly and in sync, like this:
I, unfortunately, resembled something a little more like this...
For shame. Still, I had a whale of a time (no pun intended) and will continue to zumba my heart out.
The unavoidable...
Unless you've spent the last week or so in a coma, you'd have at least heard rumblings of the name Black. Rebecca Black. Who is in part responsible for the auto-tuned, psychedelic ear-infection that is her first single:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0
I know, right? Wow. Of course it's terrible, but don't tell me you haven't found yourself singing "it's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday..." under your breath at least once. And if we're talking about terrible lyrics here, I'd like to take you somewhere a little closer to home.
More specifically: U, ME, JLS. Jesus. Some of their lyrics are a total mind-fuck.
I'm going to treat you with a few gems:
"Tell me where you're from: Venus, Mars, or the sun?" - Outta This World.
Umm, I'm a bit more local, actually...
"Like Rihanna, she's a rockstar, you know I'll be her Rudeboy..." - Work.
I'm sorry if I'm not 'street' enough for this lyric but I don't know what a 'Rudeboy' is. If it means you won't hold doors for me, then that's a little unpleasant.
"Can you feel my x-ray, as I can you down..." - Superhero.
Woah! This feels a little like an airport security system. Erm, guys, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with this. I have nothing to declare.
"We're in trenches, lets climb out, because out love is in doubt..." - Love At War.
Wait... what? Why are you in a trench? You're JLS! You don't need to worry yourself with fighting for your country - gosh no! Just make sure you colour co-ordinate your outfits and peace will be restored throughout the land.
"Went up to say hello, say hi and stereo, she whispered in my ear 'Hey there, Romeo'..." - The Last Song.
Now, this really does blow my mind. Okay, so first he walks up and says "hello" followed quickly by "hi", which is a little awkward but give the guy a break - he's probably nervous. But then, THEN, he... well, he 'stereo'.
Not sure I'm following. How can you 'stereo'? 'Stereo' is a noun and to use it as an adjective is beyond my realm of comprehension. But then I thought: "Maybe it's me. There must obviously be another meaning for the word 'stereo'". So I Googled it.
Along with being an object that produces sound, stereo can also mean "two photographs taken from slightly different angles that appear three-dimensional when viewed together". Please tell me he doesn't walk up to this chick and start snapping away because that is what I like to call "a bit rapey".
Third possible meaning: "STEREO (Solar TErrestrial RElations Observatory) is a solar observation mission. Two nearly identical spacecraft were launched into orbits that cause them to respectively pull further ahead of and fall gradually behind the Earth". Riiiiiight. So Aston, Marvin and the lads (c'mon, who cares what the others are called) were on some kind of galactic mission to observe this lucky, lucky lade and then, I'm assuming, launch themselves at her?
Who knows. Won her over though because she mistakes him for one of the greatest male romantic figures in all of literature, so all's well that ends well. (Lolz, see what I did there? Shakespeare? All's Well That... oh, never mind).
So all I'm saying is, whatever Black can do... we can do shitter.
Blimey...
For someone who didn’t have anything to say, I’ve sure managed a fair bit of nonsensical rambling. The words ‘hind leg’ and ‘donkey’ spring to mind. I will leave you in peace.
It's been fun fun fun...
x
