I’ve been thinking about my blog…it’s pretty random and isn’t about any one thing which is a bit geey. I don’t like writing about serious stuff about myself in case I sound moany, angsty, boastful or just boring. I’m thinking of trying out something different from now on, at the moment I’m thinking observations of randomers. Watching, analysing and most likely bitching. Worth a shot. So as a farewell to posts about me, here’s some random things about me you may or may not know:

1. I like ribbons. A lot. A lot of you know this already as I’ve probably freaked you out in class the odd time. Contrary to popular belief (this is really quite offensive!) this is not a fetish!!! My attempt to make it seem more normal or at least explain it is that it’s all about senses. I’m virtually blind, I’m pretty deaf and I’ve got a good chance of losing my sense of smell thanks to a dust intolerance which is already the case of my dad and sister. So basically all I have left is the sense of touch…which I like to think becomes more alert or powerful thanks to everything else being bollocks. I can’t touch rough surfaces or I get shivers all up my spine and instead I like to feel soft smoothe things…like ribbons. Does that make me sound any less like a weirdo? Probably not.

2. I love cats and cats love me. One family cat called Harry (after Harry Potter cos we’re cool) who’s affectionately known as fat cat. I also have two kittens called Cookie and Cream who are my babies. Slightly obsessed. I shall be an old cat women in the future and it shall be fabulous.

3. When I was six my granny bought me a small hardback notebook for me to write stories in. I remember my first masterpiece was about a baby bird called Tom who fell out of his nest and was on an adventure to try and find his way back to his mother. Good times. Wish I still had that little book.

4. I wasn’t sure how to word this one…I was going to say I’m not an emotional person but emotional didn’t seem like the right word. I just asked my housemate of a better way of wording it and she said I’m a “cold-hearted bitch”. Hmm, I’ll say I’m not an overly open person. I don’t talk about my feelings, I don’t angst, I don’t cry and I’m not needy. Haha, this makes me sound like a really awful person – I can be nice! I’m a fiercely loyal friend, caring and honest…but I’m straight to the point, no faffing around. Some people find me intimidating, particularly guys which I find amusing.

5. I’m always cold. Always.

6. Favourite three songs at the moment:

• Within Temptation – Aquarius
• Eels – That’s not really funny
• Maplebee – Perhaps perhaps

That’s me in a nutshell. Now to talk about other people…

I have a slight obsession with Phantom of the Opera…and when I say slight, I mean I watch the modern film version on DVD once a week and have a new found loooove for corsets. I want to see it performed in every city that shows it, particularly in Australia as the more relaxed health and safety rules mean it’s the place for the fastest chandelier drop – how exciting! But my first actual live performance was in New York in July. Lucky you think? Broadway’s a fine place to begin my tour of Phantom performances around the world? Well it might have been if it wasn’t for the bloody Americans trying to ruin it for all of us! I’ll back off a bit and give a more general review first.

 

Everyone knows the music (if you don’t you should either be very quickly educated or else shot – your choice) so live, in a theatre you know you’re in for a treat before it even begins. The scenery, the special effects – flawless! So I guess that just leaves the acting and singing which seemed to me, to miss the mark. Don’t get me wrong, the show wasn’t a disaster, everyone came out raving about it, but Phantom is close to my heart and I felt more like a critic or an overprotective guardian of the show rather than someone who happened to walk through the doors to merely be entertained. The first irritating mistake was the Phantom’s introduction – it’s meant to shock the audience that rather than a new character appearing on stage, his voice is boomed throughout the theatre coming from all directions. But rather than being shocked by hearing him shout “Insolent child” you hear the sort of noise you’d hear in a dentist as they suck the saliva out of your mouth with a tube! The actor ruined his dramatic entrance by clearing his throat to get into his voice, gay.

 

Maybe you think that’s minor but I swear any English person would cringe at the actors’ accents! It’s a tricky subject in the first place…it’s set in France but the original show’s English so they all either have an English accent or a rather Englishy French one. But half way through a beautiful love song, to hear a soft English accent swap for an American one, eugh…to me it sounded like this: “I’m here,
nothing can harm you – my words will warm and calm yo-NEW YORK NEW YOOORK” – parts of their singing actually made me shudder, it was horrific. My mum trying to hush my complaints during the interval tried to defend them saying they are Americans after all and that’s their accent but these are meant to be Broadway actors in one of the most prestigious productions you could be selected to act and if they aren’t capable of maintaining their character’s accent throughout the play then what the hell are they doing there!?!

 

Most disappointing of all was the acting. Ok, no, that’s too mean, most of the actors were amazing but Christine, Raoul and the Phantom are the three main characters involved in this tragic love triangley sort of thing and this is central to the whole plot yet I didn’t think they pulled it off. Without making it very clear of their intricate relationships then the extravagant gestures and action scenes seem unnecessary and over the top. When making the modern film version, Andrew Lloyd Webber insisted that these three characters had to be young actors or else Christine’s naivety would be mistaken for stupidity and to push the powerfulness of her young childhood love with Raoul. But most crucially, they needed to be young for Christine to be presented as innocent but on the verge of womanhood and discovery of her own sexuality.

 

Christine and Raoul share a love they had since childhood…playing games in the attic while her father played the violin…lovely. But this is to be in contrast to the powerful and passionate lust and desire with the Phantom. I’m sure she’d be quite happy to write little scented love letters to Raoul, but it’s the Phantom she gets to wear scantly clad corset dresses and stockings, breathing deeply and looking like she’s about to orgasm every 30 seconds just hearing him sing. Sound simple? I thought so! In the film, The Point of No Return is so sexual it makes me feel all hot and flustered but it was this whole theme that was completely lacking in the Broadway performance.

 

I know I’m generalizing and being offensive, but I really doubt whether America is capable of portraying lust and passion properly! From what I’ve seen they can do prudes, they can do filth, but start to crumble anywhere in the middle. Without Christine’s sexual desire for the Phantom she comes across as just a stupid girl for going back to him and getting sucked in even though she knows he’s dangerous and he just seems like a psycho stalker with whom the audience has no sympathy for – what a shame!

 

I’m not saying it wasn’t worth seeing – I got goose bumps during every song and Masquerade and Prima Donna were particularly fabulous! But there’s room for improvement which I hope to find in the London production which I’ll be seeing in the not so distant future once I work out a more subtle way of asking for tickets than “Hello, I’d like two of your finest tickets directly below where the chandelier falls. Thank you.”

I’ll make this clear straight from the beginning…I’m not here to offend anyone!

I was reading Luke’s post about a leaflet given to a child trick or treating warning them of the evils of Halloween and it’s fuelled my own rant about some Saturday preachers who can only be called Bible Bashers as they would only give all other Christians a bad name.

I’ll risk giving my pride a bashing and think back to my early teenage years when on a Saturday myself and about 300 other teenagers would spend the day hanging out outside City Hall in Belfast city centre; a strange assortment of emos, goths, punks, skaters and metalers (I’ll not bore you with admitting which one I was :-p ). Anywho, being a Saturday and being in the centre we would share our space with Saturday preachers. I remember being an excitable 13 year old and having fun chats with guys in togas and sandals giving out bright orange cross necklaces and other friendly young people coming up and just having a chat with you. But then came the bible bashers – I remember walking around town and some man shouted at me with a microphone that I was going to hell – how rude! i was absolutely mortified…and more importantly, offended – especially as I was a Christian! He saw a teenager so obviously I must have been an atheist, alcoholic, druggie, slut and why not throw in murderer for good measure!

Some organisations were amazing with outreaching to teenagers – we had an event called Manafest in the Ulster Hall for Christians (not even segregation between Protestants and Catholics!) which was christiany and did have a message to share, but also brought together nearly 1000 young people together under one roof and had live bands and guest speakers – there was nothing condemning about it in the slightest and I had many friends who weren’t religious at all who went for the fun of the whole evening and the good music and I guess, the hope is, if they become curious or interested then they’re surrounded by friendly people they can chat to and get information without being laughed at or misinformed.

Now fast forward six years and we find me spending money I shouldn’t be in Reading. A cold wintery day and walking along the street with my friend wrapped up on jumpers, coats, hats, scarves and gloves and yet, despite this outwardly conservative appearance (quite unlike my usual facebook pictures – pleasure don’t judge me!) I must have been dripping in sin for once again I was selected by a Bible Basher to be humiliated in front of everyone who could hear him on his microphone.

 

“You there! You think you’ve met a nice boy and you think he loves you but he’ll leave you now he’s got what he wants from you! Oh you’ll cry but he’ll cheat on you because he can’t respect you. He’s only after what he can get from you!”

 

…..what!?!?!

 

I didn’t know whether to be more offended that this man was calling me a slut or that he was assuming that all girls are mindless idiots who can’t make decisions for themselves and only do what men tell them to or pressure them into doing. This makes me so angry! Does he really expect that I’m going to just turn round, run over to him and burst out crying:

 

“You’re so right! I’m being used – my body is no longer my temple! Please help me rid myself of sin and become an innocent virgin again!”

 

Ptsch!

 

No, “ptsch” isn’t the right word. Bollocks. Much better.

 

I don’t see why people don’t discuss what animal they would be more often! Well actually, it’s quite easy why not – it’s depressing. There’s no real good animal to be. I remember a few years back when I wasn’t a cynical bitch and my boyfriend at the time told me I was like a cat. I was all happy being a cat lover and thought “fabulous, pretty, elegant and independent” only to be corrected that my supposed feline characteristics were ’selfish, proud and vain’. He was a lovely chap…I’m sure we’d still be together now if it wasn’t for that mysterious yet tragic incident involving a tractor, two pots of honey and 12 geese.

You might have thought after my slightly traumatic discovery of what someone thought of me would make me more considerate onto other, but alas, with spending 14 years in an all-girl school that was clearly never going to happen. “Oh god, it’s rat girl” we’d hiss before scrunching up our faces and squeaking in a high pitched broad accent as she walks past. Harsh you think? You wouldn’t if I was allowed to post a picture of her up here. There’s also been fish girl and whale girl – whale girl had nothing to do with her physique and a lot more to do with noises heard through thin walls at night! But still, they were still some of the lucky ones; some people didn’t even make it as animals, such as man-girl and witch-girl. Good times.

But choosing animals for people doesn’t have to be a wholly bitchy topic! Discussing the topic again the other night with two of my friends, one told me that her mother said she would be a Spaniel as she’s “overly enthusiastic and friendly and her hair resembles their ears” – love it! Spaniel, as she shall now be known then decided that our other friend looks like a moose and I, I am a bald eagle with my obsession that all my hair’s gone and I look and feel bald. We do make an attractive bunch!

A tad more disturbingly, before my bald eagle days, over the last 5 years or so at least 6 different people without any warning have referred to me as being a snake. (Poor me, still bald.) I don’t know whether to be self conscious of the length of my tongue, if they don’t find my sthexy lisp quite so sexy anymore or if I’m just meant to be bad. Either way, I’ve heard it sooo many times throughout the years that I’ve endeared it – I find snakes quite pretty now, like snakes on jewelry and even considered getting a snake tattoo (we’ll not mention details but glad to say I decided against it).

So my lovelies, it’s time to let go of your pride and think of your true animal! Flick through pictures, try and see how others see you and not how you like to see yourself. Perhaps your funny, quirky and individual features or habits. It’s all just a giggle remember!