By the way

I have a tumblr. I'm never on this, i just don't have the heart to delete it. It's nice having a bit of me taking up valuable cyberspace- I like to think Facebook and Myspace etc are looking at my waste of space blog and saying 'What is she even doing here? She's just sitting there, doing nothing! FFS' and my blog will reply 'Chill, bro.'

toomuch_tooyoung.tumblr.com

see you there.

'Some people think little girls should be seen and not heard...'

'...but I say, 'OH BONDAGE, UP YOURS!!'

It's been a while since my last frantic and frustrated posts of wankery, although that probably doesn't matter seeing as no-one reads this thing anymore. I'm doing this for my own gratification, it seems (again, with the wankery references). Anyway, I've been banned from the internet by my 'stepfather' (the man whose house we live in). The internet to my computer was disconnected because of my ungratefulness and laziness that culminated in a shocking TWO DAYS of untidiness in my room. Although I have cleared my room, it seems unlikely I will be getting the Internet back any time soon. I feel this is fair because my crime surely warrants a month in the dungeon, and two months thereafter wearing a dunce hat. (What I am trying to say here is that 'my stepfather' (the man whose house we live in) tends to exaggerate the seriousness of pretty much any situation.)

So I've stolen his Internet for the time being whilst he and my mum go watch 'The Expendables', a film with so little culture or intelligence and lacking in my respect that I'm offended that they are paying to see it.

Anyway, I haven't really got much to tell today. I've become a recluse as NOBODY MY AGE WANTS TO LIVE LIFE. We're sixteen, full of surging hormones which make us want to shag each others brains out and get ungracefully drunk and wasted (or vice versa), but instead everyone decides to stay in with a cute cup of tea. Which means the rest of us who actually want to get out the house and vandalise and bang and be generally antisocial and be able to look back and say 'Yeah life as a kid was fucking BEAUTIFUL', are also forced to stay in with a goddamn cup of steaming fucking tea.
I feel like I'm fighting for a lost cause these days. Punk is dead, spontaneity is dead, good times are dead. Even the sunny weather we had is dead. But instead of making the most of it and pulling on our parkas and boots and kicking leaves and finding a great spot to camp out in the woods, we're all staying inside with that stupid cup of tea. And since I've resorted to going to Canterbury and Whitstable and Margate and Herne Bay alone because everyone is seemingly inside, I end up bumping into people who think I'm a loner, ensuring that this boredom is just going to keep going on, round and round in a stupid circle, like the rim of the mug of that CUNTING CUP OF TEA.
Fuck this, I'm going out for a fag and a walk. See ya in a bit. xxx

A LETTER OF COMPLAINT

Dear Edgar Wright,

Please could you withdraw your trailer for 'Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World' from showing in cinemas nationwide. This trailer has been getting me agitated and hyped up before the films I have originally visited the cinema to watch are screene. As a consequence all I can think about is the awesomeness of your latest film and therefore have been distracted from paying attention to several recent releases. I have now wasted £15 on films I can't even remember watching, since all I could think about throughout them was your upcoming slice of amazing cinematography. I also believe that the music used halfway through the trailer ('Invaders Must Die' by The Prodigy) is offensively catchy and full of scratch hooks and a ppumbping bass felt in the chest, which remains in my head for the duration of any films I have travelled and paid to see. You are so selfish.

Regards,
Angry Hot Fuzz/Shaun Of The Dead Fan Who Can't Remember The Plots To The A-Team Film Or That Knight And Day Film Which Was Actually A Bit Crap.

'Whatever happened to the heroes?'

Amnesty International is something I've been kinda involved with for a while, since Year Nince when the representative for the Canterbury group came to my school and told us about what they do. While I haven't actually joined, I have helped with fundraising, sent pressure emails to world leaders and cards of support to prisoners of conscience. It's one of only a few charities I care about.
One of Amnesty's priorities has been getting the voices of the people of Burma heard. In Burma, the military authorities especially have abusing their power and restricting numerous Human Rights, such as the right to protest peacefully. An example of this is the 1988 protests in Burma. Many students and suporters protested peacefully against the military in crowds in the streets, and many were mercilessly killed, arrested or 'dissapeared.'

I don't really know enough about Burmas history to fill you in, but I know enough to want to convince you to help. A recent campaign by Amnesty International has got hundreds of people involved. All you need is a pen, a hand, a minute, and a camera.
Find out more here: http://www.amnesty.org.uk/content.asp?CategoryID=11849
Please take part!!!
Thanks xxxxx

(No More Heroes- The Stranglers)

'Hey, you. Don't watch that. Watch this.'

I've basically been sitting back and listening to music 24/7. When I'm not listening to it, I'm writing songs. This is to give you an idea of how important music is to me. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH

So I've got a few more songs I've been listening to a lot, or at least been listening to slightly more than any other songs.





Now before you say 'Oh Milly, these songs are sooo last year' and begin getting all snobbish on my ass, well don't. I can't stand people that take pride in telling the world they like new songs that no-one's heard of so that they can scoff at people who ask them what they're on about, and then decide a song ceases to be good a year after it was first popular. Songs don't change, trends do. And I'm not big on trends, thanks. I'm not saying all new music is awful, I'm saying don't stop liking it just because everyone else has.

Also I know this is a short entry, I haven't got a lot of time on my hands

xx

(Madness - One Step Beyond)

'I got freedom and my youth'

Okay okay I'm late, but I'm here now so stop shouting.

So since last time, I guess I've collected a few titbits of interesting things to share with you. Firstly...






I really did just stumble upon this from seeing it in my Facebook feed and I fell in love. I'm not going to pretend I'm some sort of skateboarding prodigy, I can only just go round corners without falling off, but I do have a lot of appreciation for it. I think I really got into it, the whole grunge/punk/skate culture when I was about 9. I was a walking talking tomboy cliché, I'll admit it. But I do still have a soft spot for it. And this video just makes me feel so laid back. There's never a dull moment with it, and I can't think of a better track (or a better video for that track. I don't care if it already has a video). I just hope the people from it don't rain lawyers down on me, or worse, shut down the blog D:

I also got a hair cut today. I know I said I wouldn't do anything with it until next year but then i realised that's stupid because it's just hair and if you fancy getting it cut then just do, and it'll grow back anyway if you don't like it. That said, I do love my hair now. Before, one particular boy had said I looked like Kurt Russell.

Now that's not bad, and while admittedly eyepatches are scientifically proven to dramatically increase your awesomeness output, I'd rather not look like a man. So obviously I decided to go for a crop, the least masculine haircut invented.

...

(This is my eyepatch)


I think I might go ginger next, or bright bright red. Not sure yet. Though I have wanted to be ginger since I was a kid...


Seeing as this blog is a round-up of all things from when I was like 10, I think some music I got into at that age would finish it off nicely.

The Distillers- Drain The Blood


Slipknot- Before I Forget


My music taste has matured a lot since then. Though I still love The Distillers. And have a girl crush on Brody Dalle.

I should also mention now that I'm hoping to bring out a fanzine at some point, but I'm pretty busy as it is so it might be a while. Just look out for little paper zines littered around Canterbury. And I'm hoping to be a part of a website project by a friend of mine based on his own zine (which I don't know enough about yet and I don't want to jinx so I'll keep schtum about) but more on that when I know. If you fancy helping me smuggle zines about the place, or want to contribute articles, thoughts, whatever, you know who to call. (No, not Ghostbusters, you should call me.)

XXX

(The Distillers - Young Crazed Peeling)

'Treasure every beating heart that sets your soul on fire'

Yes, I'm back to bore you again. I'm so non-committed to life, I can't even commit to being non-committed to this blog. Which is contradictory...I think.

Anyway, it seems my tirade against clichéd lazy teenagers and my attempts to get people off Facebook and actually meeting in person has worked! It has worked so well, that pretty much everyone I know is socialising now. Yay! Many are at parties, or on holidays, or just going out having fun. And I'm here, on the computer. Yay...

o_o

But I don't care, because I went to Lounge On The Farm last week.

It was good but it could have been miles better: The line up was sub-par, the alcohol restrictions were soul-crushing and the price of the ticket was a lot higher than last year. Although I wish I had saved up and gone to the iTunes or Latitude festival, I reckon the atmosphere was unbeatable, with everyone looking out for each other and it being a true Kentish farm festival. It was a pretty memorable weekend, even if I can't actually remember much of Saturday night...

The important thing was the music, however. I only saw a few bands but what I saw rarely dissapointed. Television Personalities were obviously on my list, as were Cocos Lovers and Kitty, Daisy & Lewis. Bands I stumbled across seemed to have the most impact, however. One friend of mine got me to see Summer Camp, who I'd never heard of before, and I kicked myself afterwards for almost missing out on them. They were pretty incredible, and battled through a brilliant indie/eighties sounding pop set despite the tough crowd and technical sound screw-ups.

My favourite band were Frankie & The Heartstrings. Again, I didn't really know who they were, but I went to see them because I liked their name. It was a small crowd but I felt an affinity with everyone there once Frankie Frances got singing. He gave a spine-tingling performance and managed to change my outlook on life, love, music and singing. He's a very influential, talented, good-looking chap, and I can safely say Frankie & The Heartstrings changed my life. I don't care that it sounds cliché.

Here are some appetisers, soups if you like, from the cream of the crop that played at Lounge.

Frankie & The Heartstrings - Fragile


Summer Camp - Ghost Train


Cocos Lovers - Time To Stand


You can thank me in person. x

(King Charles- Love Lust)

'I'm sure I must be someone, now I'm gonna find out who'

Well, it's been quite nice, but I cannot be bothered with this blog much longer. It's quite hard enough trying to keep up with school work (something I never thought I'd care about enough to mention), as well as social networking, emails, MSN, the onslaught of carrier pigeons from the fans of mine from abroad who haven't got computers. LOL jk the carrier pigeons carry numerous copies of my phone number to send to all the gorgeous boys I have met on my travels around the world and who find me irresistible. LOL jk they're all hot Playboy Mansion girls and so they only need one carrier pigeon. LOL jk...carrier pigeons are out of season. So I'm quitting this blog for a while in order to get an actual life. Be with those people silly enough to call themselves my friends. Maybe even drink myself into oblivion with them, and smoke to keep warm. My GCSE's are over soon. It's gonna be a great summer. Hopefully going up to Camden, maybe. I might even do a post about my summer, if I decide it's worth it. And hey, my mates are my world, and the world is my oyster, so I just want so spend some time with my oyster. Just a bit more time than I do now. I love that oyster. Dedicated.

I'll see you later. Take care. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And if you do, put it on Youtube and buy some glue with any money you make from it.

Tally ho.
Xxx

Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part Two.

Last day of school,
Leaving clues,
Watching Derren Brown argue.
Evening on the beach,
Grumpy police,
Smirnoff Ice and WKD.
Stephen Fry,
Sunny outside,
Walking round the village at night.
Dusty lawn,
Stretches and yawns,
Don't have to get up at the crack of dawn!
Doctor Who,
Bottles of new
Tresemme spray and nice shampoo :)
Bon Iver,
Going...where?
Stopping and taking time to stare
Seeing new things
New songs to sing
Meeting your friends in the evening.
Frankenstein,
Brand new tights,
The cliché side of the pillow at night.

xxx

''Your conscience will be mine... all mine''

Because this blog is oh so boring right now and seeing as no-one looks at it anymore, I made up a little gimmick slash time killer for myself. Each post's title will consist of song lyrics, starting from today. Either the lyrics will be relevant to the post or, more likely, it will be what song I'm listening to at that time. This is supposed to give the blog an 'edge' and some theme; in this case, it vaguley resembles some music interest.

Fuck it, I know I'll get bored of it before long. I never commit to anything. Like how I told myself I would run the London Marathon. Not only could I not muster the strength or motivation or sufficient monkey's arse to care about it, I also found out today (the day of said marathon) that peole under a certain age have to run the gay mini marathon. So I wasn't even educated about anything to do with the marathon, just thought it were a larf. So you see, my committal skils are...well, non-committal.

Oh, and I managed to cook up a song for my music composition. It's called Saint's Day. Yeah, that's right, went back through the back catalogue of poems and other shit on my computer, found some old effort, and bish bash bosh, got a song in under an hour.

Who's laughing?

...

Me, you idiot.

Love you and leave you.
P.S (The song today is Stand And Deliver by Adam and the Ants...I won't go on about how much I love Adam Ant, words aren't enough. xx.)

'Telling lies, is that a surprise'

Yeah yeah, I know, I'm posting posts for no reason AGAIN. Don't have a go, I'm bored.

Like a million kids my age, right now I should be doing all my happy tidy coursework and revising like a good little child. Let's throw in a few house trained squirrels and bluetits...and a small deer. And as I whistle while I work, the shutters of the thatched cottage I live in fly open, and the friendly breeze tidies up all my papers and books into alphabetical and colour-coded order, sweeps all the mess from the floor in my room, makes the bed...hell, it even sorts out my pencil pot and make-up bag. And everyone I know calls me on the telephone and says 'Oh Milly, can you come out tonight? There's a marvelous beach party on.' And I simply say 'No I can't, I is revisin' liiike. Bare busy, yeah? Yeah. Yeah. Sure, no probs bruv. Yeah, soz, ah's working maself baaare, is mentaaaaal. Laters.'

Wake up now.

I think I'll just bitch about my REAL life so far, that's much more interesting. H'y'right.
Oh yeah, so, over at my dads the other night, and after watching Ashes to Ashes (yeah, Dad and I are so much better than those shit 'detectives'- we knew whodunnit right from the start, it took Gene Hunt an hour to work out and he still got it wrong. dick) I saw that there was going to be loads of eighties choons on real late...and I must say, I'm glad I watched a small bit of it. I was introduced to the wonder that is Fun Boy Three. Huh? What's that? You don't know. What a surprise, no-one does. Well go on that Youtube you cool-cats are so fond of, and search 'Fun Boy Three- Our Lips Are Sealed.' If you like it, tell me (I like introducing people to things they eventually fall in love with). If you don't... you can tell me that too. If you really want.

Oh, and by all means tell me if you like all my stupid idleness on here. If you don't... you can tell me that too. I enjoy constructive criticism as much as the next being.
One more thing before I go- I heartily endorse books. A massive range to choose from, you can like a genre, or an author, or a series, or even judge a book by it's cover and only read books with your favourite colour adorning it. I don't care, just read something. Anyone that still isn't convinced, and needs it dumbed down- It's a pretty film you can pause and take with you anywhere (weather permitting). Just go read, please. Reading is so enjoyable, I am risking failing my GCSE's for it, when I should be doing all my happy tidy coursework and revising like a good little child.

See you later, and bring some book and music suggestions next time you're here. Don't think I'm all give and no get. I'm not that kind of girl.


Laters.

'Reasons To Be Cheerful.'

(Except the cliche stuff like 'friends, family' etc)

- Sunrises
- Parties
- Sunrises after parties
- Marlboro Reds
- Drunk with friends
- Smirnoff Ice on a hot day
- Old men smiling
- The rush after running home from the bus stop
- Catching THAT person's eye
- Art postcards
- Music
- Chatting to Dave from Indoor Market
- Leather jackets
- A stranger starting conversation with you
- Walking around at midnight

xx

amélie, mayfair and hair dye.

Hung out at my sister's flat yesterday, and watched Amélie. If you haven't seen it, all you need to know is it's a rather lovely story about a french girl who decides to devote her time making people's lives good. I know, it's sound a bit 'Pollyanna,' but bear with me. She helps people appreciate their lives using odd techniques, such as forging a letter to a grief stricken woman from her dead husband, or returning a box of memories to a middle aged man, or walking a blind man quickly down a pavement and describing rapidly what is going on around him. At first I thought it was going to be a bit kitsch, but as it has many adult references in it it gets evened out. Is nice.
I also quit smoking for what seems to be roughly the twentieth time. After staying up late, smoking ciggy after ciggy and damn near retching, I quit (for the time being).

And I dyed my hair, again. I went from this copper/mousey colour (occurring after strpping my hair of as much colourant as possible):


To this...


I like red. <3
Basically this picture demonstrates the red the best it can. Although in reality the hair is just a weencey bit MORE red.

that's all today. x.

singing

I gotta sing 'Mr Brightside' by The Killers and Jason Mraz's 'I'm Yours' tomorrow...arghh. I've been practising over and over and my throat hurts and it's still doesn't sound good and I don't know why the Music Tech teacher says I can sing and I don't know why I went along with it and I don't know what I've let myself in for. I used to be in a band but that didn't work out, mainly because I'm goddamn nervous of people hearing me sing. I felt like crying when I was going to busk with the guitarist. Honestly, it's like a phobia. So I'm pretty jittery and anxious right now.
that's all, I felt like whining. I might botehr with a half decent entry soon.

Alo, if you're into music, look up 'Billy Childish And The MBE.' Oh, and 'The Damned'. The Damned are pretty old, but good. The MBE are just...mental. Crazily good.

Sunday

wake up again, stretch, remember your dream. get up, get a t shirt, get yourself together. go downstairs, turn on the kettle, the tv, the rain. have a cup of tea, have a shower, have a desire to leave the house. put on your clothes, put on your make-up, put the phone on charge. put on your shoes. take a camera, take the bus, take your time, take a picture. take a walk to the coffee shop. and back to the bus station, back to littlebourne, back to your house. back to the computer, back to pyjamas, back to bed, back to sleep.

dream about summer. lately, your life has taken a monotonous turn
x

As Promised.

My review of Tim Burtons latest film, 'Alice in Wonderland.'

I am a massive fan of Lewis Carroll's 'Alice in Wonderland, and a massive fan of Tim Burtons films, so naturally I screamed when I read that Tim Burton would be directing this, and naturally I was fidgety since. When I saw a trailer for the film I was a little let down by the advert, as I would expect some brilliant snippets from the film, but the trailer left me a little empty, like I could see clearly how the film would turn out. And, now I have seen the film, I was right. Unfortunately, I didn't see it in 3D, which was the first mistake; either on my part or the filmmakers. Any film made in 3D should still be a treat for the eyes and ears for those who cannot see it in it's three dimensional glory. There were too many 'tricks' in the film - when 3D first came out, it was obvious when parts had been put into the film simply to show off the new technology- think 'Friday the 13th Part III'. And that happened alot in this film, which was pretty irritating immediately and constantly.
Audience disadvantages aside, I still felt a bit let down by the whole film. I really thought that Tim Burton would have put all he had into 'Alice in Wonderland'- the story was practically made for him, to really showcase what he can do as a director and filmmaker with his definitive dark and edgy style, but he just didn't reach the mark. I understand he was the director for this particular film, and consequentially may have been granted less creative input. Which really is a shame. Why have Tim Burton on board making a film about the story of a little girl who falls underground into another world and meets talking animals and flowers, well-meaning but crackpot friends, dissapearing cats and wise caterpillars, and simply have Mr Burton sit in a corner twiddling his thumbs? Tim Burton had an amazing chance to put his stamp on a film, but he didn't. And as a result, the new, haphazard storyline is confusing and offputting (which is saying alot for a film based on a book all about being lost and confused), and looked unfinished. Even the special effects weren't up to standard. Why use CGI for a man's body? Or leave his head normal but on a special effects body made to look just like a man's body? Maybe the point of excessive CGI was to highlight that Alice is the only normal person in Wonderland, but this would be a long shot and no excuse for what I found to be distractingly bad CGI.
I wasn't even entirely impressed with the casting. Mia Wasikowska, a young, unfamiliar actress, made a very pretty and stubborn Alice, if quite unlikeable at the beginning, but she brilliantly portrayed Alice's change throughout her time in 'Underland'(as it it apparently correctly known). TweedleDee and TweedleDum, played only slightly by Matt Lucas and more by CGI (again) were quite funny, and managed to coax a few singgers in the audience, but simply because they were fat and kept hitting each other. The Mad Hatter was a role perfect for Johnny Depp, but again I fell he did not put his all into the role. However, the very vulnerable and unhinged Mad Hatter was very beautifully played and did elicit pity and concern from me, especially when he occasionally went into dangerous rages.
Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen was very good, if a bit predictable and exaggerated. She definitely got into the role of being malicious and pouty very well, but I feel like I've seen it before in a different film.
Seeing as pretty much all of the main characters were either computer generated or a bit boring (Anne Hathaway, I'm looking at you) then there is little else to review on the casting.
Overall I find it hard to recommend this film to anyone. Tim Burton fans will fail to see how exactly he contributed to this film, other than the brilliant Mad Hatter. Fans of the general Alice in Wonderland story will also be dissapointed, as it is not a re-telling of the story, but almost a sequel, loosely trying to combine elements of 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' and 'Through the Looking Glass.' The only highlight for fans of the book will be being able to notice little bits here and there that other people viewing the film may not understand, like the poem 'Jabberwocky' as recited by Johnny Depp. And people who go to the see the film simply because they fancy it will probably be left confused. Serves you right, you should either read the book, or watch either the 1951 animated movie or the 1999 made-for-TV movie, both of which stay true to the essence of the book. Which is a hell of alot more than can be said for Tim Burton's attempt. I really wish that my first judgement of the film based on a TV trailer had been proved wrong, and that Tim Burton had produced a beautiful, crazy and dark story.

'Why is a raven like a writing desk?'

I'll tell you why, as I'm sick of people quoting the new Alice in Wonderland film, as if it didn't exist before or there was never a book (which is amazing and I suggest you read it, as Tim Burton has allegedly not stuck to any of the storyline, just the characters). Duhhh.

Lewis Carroll states, in a note in my ancient 1958 copy of the two stories, that a raven is like a writing desk 'Because it can produce a few notes, though they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in front. This, however, is an after-thought: the Riddle, as originally invented, had no answer at all.'

By 'never put with the wrong end it front,' he means that 'raven' is 'nevar' spelt backwards, and a desk cannot be put the wrong way round.

I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't blog unless there was anything I felt needed blogging, but today is a break from that promise and today I am doing a new blog entry out of boredom. So it's a mish mash of observations and bits and bobs today.

I have decided that, when I am old enough to get a tattoo, I would very much like Frank Carter from Gallows to tattoo me. I've already lined up a load of tattoos I want, from a small heart on my hip to ornate wings on my back (two tattoos I've wanted since I was about 11 - I've wanted tattoos since I was about 6) and I think that because tattoos are so personal, I would like an original and inspiring person to contribute towards it. So I've decided that Mr. Carter, who said in an interview he would rather be considered as a tattooist in a band rather than a singer who sidelines in tattoo art, would be a great candidate to do a pretty tat.

I've also started doing rough scribbles of tattoo designs all over my work in lessons, which seemed to piss Frau Wade off. Especially as I wasn't even drawing on my 'work,' just a blank page with just the words 'Ich Liebe' on it.

I also might go to Primark today, (yeah i know.) to look for a pair of brogues and maybe a scarf. Failing that, I'll go charity shopping tomorrow.

That's all, I really have stopped being able to think. x

bombing sherbert.

so a kid in my class, lizzie, brought in 3 BOXES OF MULTICOLOURED SHERBERT today.
You can get these big industrial packs of stuff at a place called Bookers in Canterbury if you own a business. So she always brings in sherbert when our class do charity events. And i promptly bought and bombed and consequently OD'd on this sherbert. Sugar Rush ToTheMax.

Also had an after school detention today, for never wearing the proper uniform to school. I never wear a shirt, just a vest and cardigan with my jumper over it, and I always seem to wear excessive bracelets, leggings with socks, boots, my FAVOURITE turquoise glass bead necklace and nail varnish and a scarf. So my school hates me for that. Still, I don't mind after school detentions too much, as I can just read books in them (atm it's 'Steppenwolf' by Herman Hesse...deep brah. I happened to get onto a pretty sexy chapter while in detention today and, for some reason, felt embarassed).

But it's walking to the bus stop, getting a bus, walking through the bus station and getting another bus, then walking home that does my head in. I hate when it's a blustery day as my hair and skin and clothes make me look like a classic raggedy-ann orphan once I've been outside for five minutes.

Oh and yahh, I plan to go c-c-c-craaazy in H&M tomorrow. Like cover-me-in-glue-and-run-through-the-shop crazy. I made a resolution to myself that for a while I would only shop vintage, charity and, at a push, Ebay, but that resolution failed because the vintage shops in my area are so expensive and Oxfam didn't have much to offer. H&M feels kinda lazy, but the great thing about it is that you can get basic, staple pieces and either dress them down or make them statements. Whereas with Topshop, if you see someone wearing the same dress as you, they'll be wearing it the same WAY as you as well. With H&M, strangers are guaranteed to be wearing it differently from you.
Does that make sense? Doesn't matter. I'm excited.

Ima go tidy my room and have a cup of tea and listen to The Cure's 'Exploding Boy' and Korn's 'Coming Undone.'
Laters brah.

sick and tired of being sick and tired.

multitudes of coursework. attention seekers. adults that nag. people who brag. detentions ALL THE TIME. fear of the virtual revolution. bad skin days. bad hair days. sad days. angry days. missing the people that matter. missing deadlines. missing art books.
This is all that is crammed into the box balancing on my neck, called my head. along with some teeth and eyes.

On the plus side, I got my GCSE mock results, which were pretty good. The school may not think so but I'm still pretty chuffed. I got pass marks in everything except German, Music, Chemistry and ICT. Well i never was going to pass them anyway. A 'U' in Chemistry is fine by me :D.

I want summer so bad. Actually I want last year's summer. That was sooo good.



I'm still trying to work out what this blog is about. Looking back, I remember I wanted it to have a theme, like music or TV or fashion. The common theme seems to be me though.
I'm ok with that, it makes a nice change. It's like a published diary, that anyone can read who really wants to.

So thanks for reading so far. Later

right now i'm obsessed with...

Hayao Miyazaki

I'm off school right now on half term, and every day on Film4 I've been watching Hayao Miyazaki (Studio Ghibli) films. Favourites right now are My Neighbour Totoro, Princess Mononoke, Porco Rosso (which I JUST watched and is amazing) and Spirited Away, though I've only seen a bit of it. I also saw Nausicaä of the Valley of Wind but I wasn't as enraptured by it as I was the other films. They have this ethereal thing going on; they make perfect sense as insane fairy tales and heartwarming stories. So there's a rugged pilot who has the face of a pig? A woodland spirit who kills everything around him in search for his head? A bus that is a giant cat? Yeah, it just seems to fit when you're watching the films. But when you try and explain the story, you realise how mad it is.

These Adverts!

One is an advert for Smirnoff parties - basically really cool parties which I wish I could go to. But I looked on the website and you have to be over 21...even if you are a UK resident. Annoyed much? It makes sense, seeing as the legal drinking age in America is 21, but here it's 18 and I'm only two years off. Grr.
Still, the advert has me glued to the televison each time it comes on. I would put a link to it BUT long story short, I can't vew anything on youtube as I haven't 'installed the latest flash player' so nuts to that. It has people in costumes as ravens and toadstools and lions and princesses. It is a.w.e.s.o.m.e.

And the second advert is a perfume advert for a Gucci perfume, Flora. It has a version of Donna Summer's 'I Feel Love' playing and a girl in a field of flowers with all the flowers rushing everywhere...oh, you can youtube it. I love it.

By the way, all this talk of adverts isn't me trying to make you buy things, or making me want to buy things. Perfume is always ridiculously expensive (I myself still wear Diesel Fuel For Life which I recieved two Christmases ago) and obviously I am too young to purchase Smirnoff. Even though it's nice.

So that's what I'm obsessed with right now.

TTFN, Ta Ta For Now.

Well, seeing as I have to talk about SOMETHING...

I'll start about The Brits, why not.
Ok...

JLS aren't that great. They're average.

Oasis frontman (whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care), yeah you, throwing your award into the crowd. How very fucking noble and and self righteous. 'Oh I don't care about this award that so many of our fans voted for us to receive, instead I'm going to ensure I hurt someone.' Prick.

Cheryl Cole didn't deserve to be there at all. She's rubbish! Her voice is average. And to top that off, we had to listen to a track of her average voice singing while she ponced around the stage (dancing terribly) and opening and closing her mouth at random intervals like a fish (miming terribly).

Lily Allen looked like Rihanna and made an incredibly OTT entrance, despite not really doing/winning much at the Brits.

Spice Girls...either get one, or all of them, or none. Not two, that's depressing. We know you can't get hold of Victoria Beckham (literally - there's nothing to hold on to...her arms are like wafers) and Emma Bunton has gone and got all fat, but couldn't they have at least got Sporty Spice? round it to a nice number, is all I'm saying.

Lady GaGa was pretty great, and her tribute to Alexander McQueen was definitely pretty heartfelt. And she looked awesome, I don't care what you say. Only she could pull off the candy floss and lace look with such glamorous...glamour.

Florence and Dizzee Rascal was OK, but it seemed more about Dizzee than Florence. They didn't use her voice as much as they should of - I would have exploited her voice like a...well I can't think of anything. But her voice is amazing. But I wish they would let her sing different songs on TV? 'You Got The Love' has been raped by radio so much now I'm getting tired.

Robbie...yeah, he was awesome. Though we guessed what song he would end with...not that he's predictable, that Robbie.

Anyone else? I don't think so. That's all my complainin' and praisin' about the Brits.


Right now I'm trying to get some songs written on guitar- I have to learn a cover of any song (solo, mind you) and write two original songs- one instrumental, and one 'popular music' stylee. Making me thoroughly depressed, seeing as when I signed up to do music GCSE I figured I could just sing through it...not to mention when I started music GCSE I was also teaching myself to play guitar, which I realised I was not very good at, so now I have to play when I'm not actually that good. AND all the people in my group seem to have been musical people since the age of three.

Greeeaaattt.

But, as my motto of the last few months dictates, 'Remember it could always be worse.'(and then think of an example scenario where it is much worse)

OH
and
BILLY CHILDISH has an exhibit on at the ICA in London which I really want to see...BUT I can't. grrr.

That's all peeps <3

" Ay yo I Once was a kid, all I had was a dream..."

starting off with some music, as I've been asked a few times what my blog is about and in a mad blind panic I've said 'It's reviews of music' or 'It's a fashion blog', neither of which are true. But then I figured music is pretty much all I do so I might as well review some here and there, keep you on your toes.

Chiddy Bang, are amazing. I usually don't like rap, at least not the rubbish chart stuff which consists of 'ay, ay, ay,' on a loop and 'shawty this, shawty that.' All a bit pathetic really. But Chiddy Bang seem to have a sense of good music and how to keep it fresh- their debut album has lots of recordings of speech and train overvoices on it, which make you feel you're in the city with them. It's good rap. Even has a freestyle in there, I think.

Oh , and it was Chinese New Year yesterday

So Happy New Year! I prefer this New Year because it's a bit more organic, less commercial crap, more interesting and colourful celebrations etc.

kisskiss

In Oxfam today, i fell in love with a beautiful boy.

Oh not really. But I did fall in love with Air's single, 'Sexy Boy,' for 49p. And I bought a Smirnoff mirror for £3.99. So that was a good day.

And I bit the bullet and dyed my hair red, but for some reason my hair doesn't want to look like a fire engine, which was the idea. Why ever not? Instead, my roots have immediately gone bright bright red, but left the ends of my hair, which includes the front of my hair, looking dark brown with a red tinge. So I'll have to dye that bit all over again which is a real bother. It's karma.

I also found out there is a place called Eythorne near Aylesham. I found out because I got on the bus to go miles away from where I actually wanted to go. And so I had to leap off the bus, in the middle of nowhere, into several inches of snow (in my new Converse - more on those later). And wait for the bus for 25 minutes in the cold. In a dead town. greeeaaaaat.

Yeah, Converse. I've been looking on Ebay for a pair for quite some time now and then, lo and behold and wonder, a pair in Oxfam for £5.99. When other pairs are about £30 at the cheapest. All the more reason to love charity and look uncool going into a charity shop by yourself. Oh boy oh boy.

Also got a book of 20th Century photographs, so if I can borrow a scanner at school I might put some of those up.

I really can't be bothered with revision for GCSE's. Any of you kids reading this inbetween poring over their AQA Chemistry books are going to really hate me for being lazy. But I just don't see the point. These are my career choices (which my school doesn't seem to support, oddly enough.)

-Artist
OR
-Photographer
OR
-Tattooist
OR
-Writer (of books or poems maybe)
OR
-Bus driver.

Who needs Chemistry? I'm not going to be MAKING the ink.

that's all for now, kthxbye.
x

'so what are we going to do tonight, brain?' 'the same thing we always do, pinkey...'

i need a plan, i need wardrobe staples.

several years of collecting big printed dresses and jumpers has caught up with me, as i realise that none of the things in my cupboard stay looking as good as i thought they looked when i bought them.

so i have a budget of £30 for now, and i gotsta get some skinnies and a jacket of some sort because i have no coat. and it's been snowing you know?
and i've found that when i go shopping i just buy stuff on a whim, and then think 'woah what the fresh hell?'

GRR.

on a lighter note though, i'm collecting some old pictures from Canterbury tomorrow, which i'm sort of looking forward to. I like meeting strangers and free stuff and old stuff so it's like fun fun fun.

2x small prints of London scenes from about 1800,
1 larger frame containing page from Illustrated London News,
2 drawings of Highland scenes.
Print of 1899 painting of girl on a bench
small French advertising picture, victorian style
1x Dali
and a dresser mirror. No idea how i'll carry it all but so looking forward to it. I might have to hire some minions to help me carry it all

ok laters, mwah.

sad day

:( Alexander (Lee) Mcqueen is dead.

I is a snowflake

and i is gonna prevent you.

we have no school today because of the few inches of snow, which i won't complain about for fear of jinxing my good luck.

my school also has a teacher training day tomorrow anyway (in effect a day off for us brute kids) so now it's a FOUR DAY WEKEND. sweeeeet.

dyeing my hair red today methinks, stretching my ear (wanted to since i was about 12 and now got round to it) and off to wander leeward freely into the wild blue yonder...
that is my crap village. to take some nice photos of snow and goats :D

ttyl x

Is it a bird, is it a plane? No it's just that Whiskey kid.

Poetry has always been cool. At least in my books.
but simon armitage and john agard made it so much cooler.

saw them live yesterday at a school trip. there were other poets, like gillian clarke who many have agreed was dull, and carol ann duffy who, despite being the most famous one there, was also the most unlikeable. as my english teacher pointed out, it's admirable that carol ann duffy doesn't feel she has to prove herself to teenagers, but she could have been a bit less pretentious. it's poetry for chrissake. it's only okay.

But Simon Armitage was engaging, funny and gave a real insight into his brilliant rap-like poems, and had some nice quick comebacks to the clever heckers in the crowd at question time ("Oi, how do you know a poem's finished?" "When it gets to the end...") and ("Hey Simon, boxers or pants?" "Well since you ask, today I've gone commando")


As for John Agard, well he rocked the boat. A poet from Guyana, his poems are funny and get you to laugh at British idiosyncracies, but also make you feel proud to be British. He also looked the part, looking pretty rugged with a fit beard. When we saw him outside in the break before he had done his bit, I thought he was a homeless guy wandering past. But he caught my attention with how mysterious he looked and then I was like 'Wait, he's on the flyer...'

Imtiaz Dharker and Grace Nichols also gave talks on some of their poems. Grace Nichols 'Island Man' is pretty poignant and lovely, and Imtiaz Dharker's poem about the tiffin trays in Mumbai is brilliant. You really need to listen to poetry being read by who wrote it to understand it fully and know how it was meant to be read.

So that's all I have on that topic.
Oh and yesterday i went to funkymonks, where i got a shirt dress thing that looks like Superman and a sailor have had a gay child that works in McDonalds. I love it. Although I'm dying my hair red this weekend so it wasn't a good choice, seeing as red clashes. Still, i might be mistaken for a superhero.

Good night, don't let the bugs bite

thank you clouds, for sneaking up on us like ninjas.

so uh i was going to go into town and have a jaunt round the old charity shops but the FREAKIN' WEATHER spoilt that plan.

so i went to the newsagent instead and i bought an issue of company magazine, because it had emily and naomi from skins on the front and looked glossy and time wasting.

no sooner had i bought it that i realised on the front cover were the words '15 NEW SEX MOVES-and you thought you knew it all!'

no wonder the little indian lady behind the counter looked a little distressed.

Also, the magazine seemed to preach girl power and femininity and body confidence and self esteem, yet the last four pages were amblazoned with full page adverts for cosmetic surgery, with one even having a barely naked blonde orange woman with her hands on her boobs. to advertise cosmetic surgery.
don't get me wrong, i thought the magazine had some good articles and fashion tips, if overall pretty substandard, and i do like skins admittedly so i liked the articles by Kaya Scodelario, Kathryn Prescott and Lily Loveless. But the magazine was just so hypocritical in its choice of adverts, especially at the back of the magazine. along with the aforementioned cosmetic surgery adverts, there were adverts for sex chat hotlines, private portfolios and the like! i thought this magazine was for old teenagers/young adults, and while some of my age group may feel like they are priveleged to be treated like adults to be able to see this sort of thing, i still feel it sends out such a negative image. Bearing in mind, Kathryn Prescott (who plays shy twin Emily in Skins) said that "The great thing about Skins is that it's not 90210. We don't have to look stick-thin and ripped. Those shows send out the wrong messages by showing body perfect people..." So why is the magazine, that seems so self righteous, advertising cosmetic surgery!? God some people get on my last nerve. Maybe i'm just naive, and the majority of teenage girl fashion magazines are like that.

that's my little review of THAT over.

also i know i want a job. unlike most girls in my year who say they need a job. no, you want the same as me; some little extra spending money and some time out the house. not need, want. big big difference.
i ideally want a weekend job in a bookshop or Topshop. but Topshop probably won't want me because i 'don't look right.' So it's Waterstones then. Good thing i like books.

oh and FYI, drinking tea out of a mug that says 'i am bad' all across it makes me a baddass.

big love

'and one more thing...'

this photo of my outfit from my friend's new years party has had alot of comments on my facebook so i want to put it up here :D




this picture doesn't do the outfit much justice, seeing as my friend and i decided that kitchen roll made just as serviceable an outfit. which it doesn't. because of rain.



this picture shows off the sequin-glittery-greatness of this outfit a bit more but i had to edit this picture because my skin looked terrible. i really wanted to show off the jumpsuit, which was a super cool sequin one shoulder jumpsuit from topshop...sort of utilising many trends in one :D which i wore with a black plain fitted blazer and tights. and some plain shabby boots...which i know i had a good reason for wearing but i can't remember. but the overall effect was pretty naaiice

that's all, thnQ

hey, idiot on a motorbike.

when i'm walking home at 6.30 in the evening, don't drive up beside me, swerve in front of me in the road, then turn around and drive back to where your mates are to try and impress me. it didn't work.

anyway, tomorrow i am going to funkymonks in canterbury for some thrifty vintage shopping...provided it's even open. if not, charity shops are GO

and i'm dyeing my hair red this weekend, like a dark dark dark red

and i still want that moustachio t shirt. i'll wait for it to go on sale, no-one else seems to want it. can't imagine why

and i want to watch skins episode 2, because emily and naomi are my favourites.

so i'm off to watch that on 4OD, see you cats on the flip flop laterrr

my german teacher wears crop tops.

so it was dani's birthday today.
and to be nice i got thrown a muffin :D
which frau wade briskly snatched from my hands and put in her drawer.
i didn't get it back.
she's blatantly eaten it.
i hope she choked.

also, i don't get why my D.I.Y cut up t shirt is so taboo at school. i hate school uniform.

rant over.

this weekend, i sort of need this top.



yespleasethankyou

'of all the gin joints...'

howdy
i'm a bored kid who can't keep up a diary. who knows what this is going to be about, i'm hoping to end up with a sort of internet fanzine slash tavi-inspired fashion journal.
laters haters.