Saturday, November 2, 2013

PartidOSOS Besador

Time for some music in here again! I'm bringing you something delightfully representative of who I am, you could say, because it's a mash-up of a British song and an American one, and it's the American vocals overlaid over the British backing, which sounds a lot like me in fact. But enough of clues that don't really reveal much - I present to you Divide and Kreate's "Party Kisser"!

It's Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" singing to Bloc Party's "Banquet", and I have to say, this was a tough one to get myself to listen to in the first instance. I'm a big Katy Perry fan, all of her songs being infectious and getting me in the mood to go out (she must however bow out to the Queen of Partying Motivation, Ke$ha). But Bloc Party's lead singer Kele Okereke has both a beautiful personality (openly gay, yet media shy) as well as a beautiful voice with strong song-writing skills. I knew the track "Banquet" not by heart, but I definitely recognised it, and so I didn't know whether the mash-up would detract from it or not.

Lest there be any fears - mashing it up actually did the impossible and made the song better, I feel. It infused Katy Perry's song with a cheekiness that the song didn't have before, and made "Banquet" far more playful. The fact that the layout of both songs is so dissimilar that none of the mash-up feels choppy or forced very much contributes to this brilliance. This song has officially been added to my Going Out playlist.

Divide and Kreate - Party Kisser

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Interrupting House Mate

If you haven't seen this comedy video by Barats and Bereta, I definitely encourage you, as it will nicely set up the joke for me (seeing as how my comedic talent lies more in living life and then telling you about the disaster that turned out to be) on interruptions:

Basically, I can't say I'm used to having to tip toe around the house because of other people's relationships. I'm not one to be incredibly rude or anything about couples, but I do appreciate that last year I lived in a positively single household, and as I lived in halls in first year, other people's relationships didn't really affect me so much. I thought things wouldn't really change regarding that this year, but I suppose I've now been proven wrong.

Sunday, October 20, 2013


I'm sure that friends might describe me as headstrong. The relentless pursuit of goals, some more questionable than others, is something that was an identifier. A quote from The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants very much resonated in me: "...single-minded to the point of recklessness". The other quote that I've been fascinated by since perhaps Grade 10 - around the age of fifteen for those unfamiliar with grades - is by Mario Andretti, which I paraphrase as "If you feel you're in control, you're just not going fast enough".

The quote from one of my favourite novel series stems from a psychological evaluation of one of the protagonists, who is a fragile mind, especially after the early death of her mother. Mario Andretti is a racecar driver. I'm not really in either position, and so I sometimes wonder about how sane it is for me to embrace these words and make them my own - because I feel like I sometimes live with the intention of creating chaos in my life, to better deal with it. It seems like being tranquil is a state of mind that I cannot accept.

Really these words are about how you're disengaging the head - the smarts, the common sense - and relinquishing control to the heart instead, if we are willing to pretend that emotions aren't the culmination of chemicals in the brain and outer stimuli, but rather settled in our centre. While the application of determination may be more rooted in the head, truly the underlying cause must be in the heart.

And I feel that through all the years that I have been here, blogging (it scares me ever so slightly to see that this is the fourth year already), you've been watching me grow more and more heart-strong. And I think it's fantastic. I think it's brilliant to be so full of feelings that regularly puzzle me, and lead me to introspection, and self-expression - not just here but in real life (who can forget episodes, like the drunk confession to Cassius?) But I'm sure you've noticed that the tone I've struck in recent posts is definitely an attempt to grow more sense-strong(? Yeah. Scratch that, that sounds ridiculous).

What I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to work on being more sensible, and more mature about things, and... well, wiser, I suppose. I mean, you can still have the Fear of Being Alone, but think about it in a way that doesn't entail "Oh my goodness, I'm going to die if I'm the last of my girlfriends to have a boyfriend", which is what I feel I might have sounded like a while back. I know I want things out of my life here in Plymouth Palace, the name I've coined for the house I live in this year - and I associate the place with a change in attitude, to be honest.

So. To being a better Ness. Because sometimes Ness is more...

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Ice Cream Problem

I feel like males are like ice cream. I started out this post writing that men are like ice cream, but to be honest I don't feel like I am qualified to say that, considering that most males I was involved with were actually more boys than men. So I'd rather generalise across a gender, than expend the effort and get involved with "real men".

While this question is after the Dowager Countess' time,
I'm sure I'll attract
Downton fans like this
But back to the point, as a student, I feel like males are like ice cream. And as student you only have two options (at least in my opinion. I get that England is huge on Cartador, or however you spell it - it looks suspiciously conquistador, so I have a feeling I have it wrong): Häagen Dazs or Ben & Jerry's. And I feel like my consumptive habits of ice cream have reflected on my choice in males.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Hockey Love

Maybe I'm a masochist, I thought, when I first honestly deliberated joining the hockey team at university. It was third term last year, and I decided that clearly my self-motivation to go to the gym was non-existent, even with my parents "bribing" me by buying work-out clothes. The one thing that always kept me going with sports was being part of a team - essentially being able to let down others, so there was the impetus to not (so really, initially my desire to join a team is less masochistic than simply non-self-loving, seeing as how I can't keep healthy doing sports for myself, but I can for others).

The bribe of hockey gear apparently worked. How could I
resist UEA colours? I suppose at heart I'm just a shallow girl after all...
But back to the point, maybe I was a masochist. Because joining this specific sport, as opposed to maybe rugby (though both Naomi and I know I'm not really cut out for it), or volleyball like Eileen urged me, meant that I would get involved with this crowd again. The Smoker introduced me to many people from hockey in his time, and afterwards, when I befriended Mason I kept my residential status in Hockey Corner at the LCR. Not denying it sometimes felt awkward, despite the protestations of the nice people from hockey who said they didn't care, and if I liked to hang out there it was cool. So I suppose I had some practice at getting over the awkward, and into the game.

I've been going to hockey practice for three weeks now, and I'm really enjoying it. I started out not having a single clue, really, but quite some enthusiasm, I would hope. I always had a hard time going for jogs, for instance, because I feel it's such a pointless exercise. There is no ulterior goal for jogging except for the aspect of health. If you're playing a game though, where you must run back and forth, clutching a J-shaped stick and using it to push around a hard plastic ball, then - duh! - it makes absolute sense.

There was a time when I really didn't have a clue what the fanaticism about hockey was about. My Mum always wanted me to play, ever since the choice was made to study in the UK. I was too loyal to football initially to give it a go, and then dancing happened. Something always got in the way. And at the same time, as a believer in destiny, I don't mind how things have panned out to get me to where I am (well, I mince these words, seeing as how all that emotional baggage is something I could do without). So this Saturday I am submitting myself to the age-old ritual of "Welcome Drinks", with make-up wipes ready at home, to attempt to disguise drawn-on unibrows and whatever else the Senior Girls can think up.

Because I may not be crazy for hockey like some people I've gotten to know, but I think I'm starting to catch on to it. (A lot of credit goes to my "Fours" crew, Ellie, Carly - yup, Carly from first year - and the others) Even if it means more awkward moments in the LCR avoiding The Smoker's gaze, as he visits for Old Boys and shizzle like that. Because you know what? Maybe I am a masochist. And I'll deal with it.