Guys,
I would like to formally apologise for the previous post I uploaded. I had inadvertently added a clip from The Empty Hearse, Episode 1 in Season 3 of Sherlock, a mere day after it had been aired on TV. Granted, it was a clip that occurred in the first minute and a half of the episode, but I didn't warn any people who hadn't had a chance to see the episode yet, which is a disgrace, and I am fully ashamed of my actions.
In my defense, I had assumed that the airing of Sherlock was the same of that of Doctor Who, whereby it was available on TV worldwide. Although this doesn't guarantee that all fans had watched it, I thought I was safe in the knowledge that the majority of the fans would have. However, I have been reliably informed that this is not the case. That, for some reason, by being born in the UK, we are therefore entitled to advance showing. Usually, I feel honoured when I learn things like this, but for some reason, this makes me feel outraged for all other fans. As promised to my American Internetual Friend Lucysfootball, I plan on rectifying this by writing a strongly worded letter to Stephen Moffat et al, to sort this out.
Anywho, I have things to say about the most recent two episodes of Sherlock, and so would like to make it very clear, before I go on, that I will be talking about these episodes, and therefore Spoilers will occur. As such, if you don't want to hear anything about them until you have seen them, get out now... just run, run as fast as you can and don't look back or scroll down... If you're reading this post via a portable device, such as a phone or tablet; discard it. Throw it into the nearest river/sea/ocean/bath and get the HELL out of there.
...
Or, you know, just close down the page. Whatever works for you.
With that warning out of the way, I will begin with my thoughts. Welcome to all people who have either seen the episodes, or haven't but really don't mind about finding out everything there is to know about them, before they do see it. I love you all, and hope you have had a fantastic Christmas and New Year. Without further ado:
My thoughts on Sherlock
First off, I should mention that I have now watched The Empty Hearse 10 times since it aired on Wednesday. If you do the math, yes that does include watching it on more than one occasion on the same day. I can neither confirm or deny that this included watching it 3 times on the night it was aired... same as I can neither confirm or deny that I did the exact same thing last night with The Sign of Three... All I can say, is that I have now watched The Sign of Three four times... in less than 24 hours since it was originally aired.
To say that I have become enamoured and altogether swept up in the world of Sherlock over this past week, is an understatement of gross preportions. When I haven't been watching the programme, I have been scrolling through the endless gifs and posts on Tumblr and sometimes laughing to the point where I have lost all breath. This has made one thing very clear in my mind; as much as I love the programme with all of my heart, I also love the fans who go with it. Seriously, if you haven't seen what's on offer, go to Tumblr, type in Sherlock and lose yourself for about four hours as you go through it all. Amazeballs wrapped up in happiness and love.
For those who wanted a brief summary of the reasons why this series of Sherlock has been so unbelievably amazing, here it is:
This adaptation of Sherlock is amazing, to say the least. They are based on the Works of Arthur Conan Doyle's books and short stories around the life of Sherlock Holmes. The original series set in Victorian England, the current series adapted to modern day and brought to our screens by Mark Gatiss and Stephen Moffat. The reason for why it works so well is due to the fact that Gatiss and Moffat might actually be the biggest fans of Arthur Conan Doyle existing in the world today. As such, their adaptations are, although in many ways, very different to the original stories, amazing at capturing the overall feel and spirit of the characters, bringing them very much to life in the episodes we are given. What's more, the love that Moffat and Gatiss give these characters pours out from the screen and envelops its watchers with such a yumminess that you can't help but be drawn in. And so, notwithstanding the amazing performances from the actors themselves, the true genius and general workability of this series is first and foremost down to these two creators and the passion that they bring to it.
Series one and two of Sherlock were amazing, to say the least. It was Gatiss and Moffat at their very best, in terms of the geeky attention to all things Sherlock, both from the original text and the previous adaptations that have been. Although the series blew up almost instantaneously, the long wait between Season 2 and 3, coupled with the growing success of both Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch, meant that the "Fandom" of the series continued to blossom and grow steadily, as more and more people joined the flock of love.
I'm not going to pretend to know for certain what it was that had led to the direction Moffat and Gatiss took with Season 3, as I unfortunately have not had a chance to become best friends with them yet, but until that happens, I can only hazard a guess as to their thought process, and this is my take.
When you love a particular thing so much, there is no better feeling than when you manage to recruit another person into loving it as well. Although Sherlock Holmes was already a massively popular and famous character, both in literature and on screen, Moffat and Gatiss managed to make them applicable to a whole host of new generations in their adaptation, thus causing the love for Sherlock Holmes to grow substantially. As such, I can't imagine that there is anything more satisfying and joyful in their achievements on this show.
Season 3 appears to have become a celebration of this fact. The first two episodes have been almost exclusively a tip of the hat to Sherlock's most loyal fans. This was shown, in plain sight, on the alternative theories on how Sherlock had survived the fall, all seemingly based on a collection of Fanfiction ideas that had been expressed through the two year hiatus between Series 2 and 3. On the next level, they then seemed to cater for all the hidden wishes and dreams for romantic interests between the characters. There are fans for every eventuality, and almost all of them seem to have been acknowledged:
Sherlock and Molly: The most amazing kiss of all television ever in the world... check out my previous post for that one.
Sherlock and Moriarty: Oh yes, we all thought it. They were perfect for each other. It made complete sense. And, I can't help but say, the thought that neither had actually died and had, instead, run off into the sunset together, is so amazing and awesome, I can't even begin to show my love for it.
Sherlock and Watson: Not so much shown in the first episode, only with the occasional beautiful speech made in trains and such. But if the Sherlock/Watson fans were disappointed with that, they made up for it in buckets with episode 2, focusing the entire 90 minutes on the relationship that Sherlock and Watson hold.
All of this was done without ruining the credibility of the original characters and storyline. Somehow, Moffat and Gatiss were able to incorporate the silly with the realistic in perfect balance that didn't compromise any aspect, but satisfied all who watched.
The first episode focuses solely on the reuniting of Sherlock and the rest of the world, after his fake death. I will take a moment here to just gasp and gulp back tears, as I make reference to the most amazing performance I have ever seen from Martin Freeman, when Watson first lays eyes on Sherlock. Oh my days, my heart was in my throat the whole time, my eyes lost in his as I felt the multiple emotions running through him. How does a person display all that in one look?? HOW????
Lestrade's reaction to Sherlock returning, with his two worded response to hearing his voice in the phrase "You Bastard" could not have been more perfect for him. Beforehand, I had no clue how Lestrade would react, after that, I couldn't imagine any other response fitting the bill.
The Molly/Sherlock companionship shift was also something I enjoyed. I am truly baffled as to where Moffat and Gatiss will take this, as Molly is the only member of the regular cast who isn't in the original stories. There are hints, especially throughout the first episode, that there is an attachment growing there, but I would be very surprised if this was ever acted on. Mainly due to the fact that the idea Sherlock is anything but asexual (with the exception of The Woman and the Fanfiction fantasies) is something that I can't quite get my head around. Molly would have to really impress him, intelligence wise, in order to spark his interest, and I just can't see them developing that relationship in that way... but I could be wrong... I'm also not saying that I would hate it if that did happen, but it doesn't exactly look likely. However, I do like that they have given her a backbone this series. Her "I'm having lots of sex" line in The Sign of Three, slayed me to the point that I raised my hand for a high-five and had to sadly lower it as I realised I was alone in my room.
And then there is Mary... ah Mary. My love for her character is making me really hate Moffat and Gatiss right now. They are gearing me up for an emotional breakdown unlike anything the world has ever seen. They keep on giving her the most understanding and awesome lines, knowing full well that the world is falling in love with her, just so that they can...
*words falter and lets out a small sob*...
I know this isn't going to end well... I just know it. And, although I have only known her for two episodes (yes, I consider that I know her, despite her being a fictional character, judge away), the love I have for her has already been set in and deeply routed... And now I'm terrified. Especially as I already have made plans to buy a T Shirt that says "I don't shave for Sherlock Holmes", which will only remind me of her every time I wear it.
Which brings us nicely into The Sign of Three. As much as I have always been an avid lover of previous Sherlock episodes, I don't ever quite remember laughing as much as I did with this one. If Martin Freeman got a chance to flex his gut-wrenching, "I-will-make-everyone-watching-cry-dammit" acting skills in The Empty Hearse, then Benedict Cumberbatch well and truly matched his performance in this episode. The look on Sherlock's face as he stares into Watson's eyes,after being told he was his best friend was amazing. Although nothing quite matches the simple obliviousness that Sherlock held after he had made the entire room cry with his simple observation of his admiration for his best friend. The fact that he had no clue how human he had sounded and his urgence to continue on with the speech, I couldn't breathe for the entire time, my heart in my throat, my mind acknowledging that this was the best moment Sherlock had ever offered.
...
Until fifteen minutes later of course, when suddenly our screens were filled with a drunk Sherlock... something that I had always wondered what would be like... and was not disappointed at all. My highlights of this?
1. Drunken Sherlock calls Mrs Hudson "Hudders."
2. Watson claiming Sherlock is "Clueing for Looks."
3. Sherlock's drunk observations around the room.
4. Sherlock punching the air as he is dragged away by Watson.
5. Sherlock: The game is... something
Watson: On?
I don't need to say anymore. You all know how awesome that was.
I will end now, I appreciate this is my longest post of all time... apologies. My geekdom rang through and wouldn't let me stop typing. But I have made observations and predictions on the latest episode that I'm pretty certain are completely true and so I may very well be revealing something about the next episode... if you don't want to read on with this; Peace out, we'll speak soon...
...
Everyone else? CAM. Charles Augustus Magnussen. He's the new arch enemy for the next episode. There was a telegram at the wedding to Mary from CAM, wishing her family could be at the wedding. The text on Watson's abduction in The Empty Hearse was sent to Mary's phone and not Sherlock's, despite texts being addressed to Sherlock.
Charles has her family. She's not an orphan after all.
I don't believe that this means she is working undercover and doesn't love Watson. I don't believe that there is anything sinister or evil about her. What I think is going on, is that her reasons for not telling Watson what is going on is tied into her family being abducted but not her reasons for being with him.
We all know how this is going to go. Apart from anything, Stephen Bloody Moffat has written this next episode. As much as I adore him, he knows just what to put in his storylines to make me fall into a heap of snot and tears. Doctor Who has well and truly proven that. He is lining it up for an all out blood fest. No good can come out of this next episode. No good at all. Only tears and sadness and Sherlock trying his hardest to save the people he's vowed to save, and failing miserably in some form or another...
There is a small part of me; the part of me who watches Romeo + Juliet and turns the film off after they consumate the marriage, stating that that was a lovely romantic story; who is tempted to just not watch the next episode. Just sit in my ignorant bliss at all the sweet and happy moments from the first two episodes and shut my ears to anyone telling me otherwise.
Although I know this part of me is nowhere near strong enough to stop me watching the episode. Which leads me to inviting all who feel they will need it, to start up a support group for this time next week. It will be necessary, otherwise we'll never be able to move on, whatever it is that they have planned.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 6 January 2014
Thursday, 2 January 2014
A letter to the unsuspecting men who I may date in 2014
Dear possible men that I might bring myself to date in 2014,
First off, this letter may never apply to you, because, in the past, I have told myself that I will date people, and then ended up deviating to the choice of finding something new to watch on Netflix. I'm not promising that this won't happen again. I'm not going to lie; my previous attempts of reaching out to you have been half-arsed at best. I do currently subscribe to a dating website, but I tend to forget I have most of the time. This will then result in a week where I may suddenly be present and email people, but please don't be deterred if I suddenly go quiet. It doesn't mean anything too serious, I've just simply forgotten I'm on there again, and discovered the entire series of Red Dwarf on Netflix, causing my attention to wander.
Having said that, I am going to try this year. Younger-Brother-Daniel shamed me over Christmas. According to him, staying in most nights to watch the Doctor Who 50 Year Special on repeat, really isn't an ideal way of living your life. I'm not totally sure I believe him, but I thought I'd open my mind to new things anyway. He also said that I should challenge myself on this blog. Make it interesting so that people would want to read stuff I say. Therefore I should try new things and make a massive deal out of them for the purpose of exploiting myself to anyone who wants to read, all over the world. So... you know... if that sounds like something you'd be into, I look forward to meeting you.
I should also mention that I have also been known to gear towards the Sci Fi geek orientation. In that I am one, rather than am attracted to one... although I wouldn't not be attracted to one... I'd find it a very sexy thing indeed to find a man who can quote The Doctor's speech to the Weeping Angels at the end of Series 5, Episode 4: The Time of the Angels... In fact you might say that you would be able to trap me with your words. Oh lol, lol, lol, lol. Just a little bit of clever word play for anyone equally awesome enough to know exactly what I am referring to. If you don't, don't worry, all you need to know is that it was clever and incredibly funny. You're welcome.
Anywho, I do like me some Sci Fi. Something that was always underlying within me, but has been suddenly exploded over the past few years, when Steven Moffat was introduced into my life.
I guess the point of this letter is to let you all know that I'm going to attempt to join the realms of the dating scene this year. I'm probably going to be really bad at it, being a 28 year old woman who has never experienced dating before... long story, and not one that is permanently damaging to me or paints me in a bad light at all, so we don't need to worry about that... hmmmm??
I should probably also mention that a gullible person would be fabtabulous. I like it when people assume what I am saying is correct, it makes me feel warm and gooey inside.
I'm also not one to dream in any realistic terms. This is a trait that I, personally, think is endearing and whimsical, but have also been informed is weird and little scary for those around me. Apparently, having very specific plans for my future in terms of the writing partnership I'm looking to form with Joss Whedon and Steven Moffat, coupled with the plans that I have for exactly what guidelines will have to be in place should the BBC want to make a series on the Utopia books, means that I have given far too much thought in what clearly isn't real, and not paid enough attention to my real life. Apparently, if I spent as much time and effort on my current life, I might actually make something of myself... I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes boys, I do sound like a complete catch, and not in any way like some form of geeky hermit.
Okay, well... I think I've covered everything. I considered writing something about what it was that I am looking for, but at this stage, I think my family and I will be just immensely relieved if I managed to get anyone, so I'm not really that fussed. Just, don't take yourself too seriously, then we're golden. That's it...
...
Oh, and I suppose there is one, teeny, tiny other little requirement. It's insignificant really, minor... If we do actually manage to hook up and do the kissing and snuggling thing; every time we kiss, I expect it to be exactly like below. No deviations, no alterations. I don't care how many glass windows we break, I'm prepared to pay the cost.
That's all, and I look forward to meeting you soon!
Love Lisa
Peace out my lovelies
First off, this letter may never apply to you, because, in the past, I have told myself that I will date people, and then ended up deviating to the choice of finding something new to watch on Netflix. I'm not promising that this won't happen again. I'm not going to lie; my previous attempts of reaching out to you have been half-arsed at best. I do currently subscribe to a dating website, but I tend to forget I have most of the time. This will then result in a week where I may suddenly be present and email people, but please don't be deterred if I suddenly go quiet. It doesn't mean anything too serious, I've just simply forgotten I'm on there again, and discovered the entire series of Red Dwarf on Netflix, causing my attention to wander.
Having said that, I am going to try this year. Younger-Brother-Daniel shamed me over Christmas. According to him, staying in most nights to watch the Doctor Who 50 Year Special on repeat, really isn't an ideal way of living your life. I'm not totally sure I believe him, but I thought I'd open my mind to new things anyway. He also said that I should challenge myself on this blog. Make it interesting so that people would want to read stuff I say. Therefore I should try new things and make a massive deal out of them for the purpose of exploiting myself to anyone who wants to read, all over the world. So... you know... if that sounds like something you'd be into, I look forward to meeting you.
I should also mention that I have also been known to gear towards the Sci Fi geek orientation. In that I am one, rather than am attracted to one... although I wouldn't not be attracted to one... I'd find it a very sexy thing indeed to find a man who can quote The Doctor's speech to the Weeping Angels at the end of Series 5, Episode 4: The Time of the Angels... In fact you might say that you would be able to trap me with your words. Oh lol, lol, lol, lol. Just a little bit of clever word play for anyone equally awesome enough to know exactly what I am referring to. If you don't, don't worry, all you need to know is that it was clever and incredibly funny. You're welcome.
Anywho, I do like me some Sci Fi. Something that was always underlying within me, but has been suddenly exploded over the past few years, when Steven Moffat was introduced into my life.
I guess the point of this letter is to let you all know that I'm going to attempt to join the realms of the dating scene this year. I'm probably going to be really bad at it, being a 28 year old woman who has never experienced dating before... long story, and not one that is permanently damaging to me or paints me in a bad light at all, so we don't need to worry about that... hmmmm??
I should probably also mention that a gullible person would be fabtabulous. I like it when people assume what I am saying is correct, it makes me feel warm and gooey inside.
I'm also not one to dream in any realistic terms. This is a trait that I, personally, think is endearing and whimsical, but have also been informed is weird and little scary for those around me. Apparently, having very specific plans for my future in terms of the writing partnership I'm looking to form with Joss Whedon and Steven Moffat, coupled with the plans that I have for exactly what guidelines will have to be in place should the BBC want to make a series on the Utopia books, means that I have given far too much thought in what clearly isn't real, and not paid enough attention to my real life. Apparently, if I spent as much time and effort on my current life, I might actually make something of myself... I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes boys, I do sound like a complete catch, and not in any way like some form of geeky hermit.
Okay, well... I think I've covered everything. I considered writing something about what it was that I am looking for, but at this stage, I think my family and I will be just immensely relieved if I managed to get anyone, so I'm not really that fussed. Just, don't take yourself too seriously, then we're golden. That's it...
...
Oh, and I suppose there is one, teeny, tiny other little requirement. It's insignificant really, minor... If we do actually manage to hook up and do the kissing and snuggling thing; every time we kiss, I expect it to be exactly like below. No deviations, no alterations. I don't care how many glass windows we break, I'm prepared to pay the cost.
That's all, and I look forward to meeting you soon!
Love Lisa
Peace out my lovelies
Thursday, 26 December 2013
Doctor Who: My reaction to Matt Smith leaving, versus my family's reaction.
It's Christmas Day.
The closing credits to Matt Smith's final episode as the Doctor comes onto the screen. I can't take my eyes off the TV, for fear that my doing so will confirm the terrible future that is now laid out for me in my Whovian world. The room is silent but for the music that signals the end of the episode, as it escapes from the TV. I try my hardest to compose myself into some form of calm that will allow me to speak actual words without breaking out into uncontrollable sobs. Once I am as close to being able to do this as I can be, I take a deep breath and open my mouth.
"The transition from Matt Smith to Peter Capaldi was too quick. It came as a shock." I say.
"Really?" Marmie says. "I thought the whole thing was too long."
My gaze shoots from the screen and starts throwing deep, sharp and deadly daggers at my mother. I could forgive her for a great many things, but this? This is too much. Clearly not enough time has passed for her to be as insensitive as she is being.
"If you're going to insist on not understanding the magnitude of what has happened, then I suggest you don't say anything at all." I shoot back.
"Anyone up for a game of Munchkin?" Younger-Brother-Daniel offers to the room.
There are murmurs of agreement to this suggestion and both Marmie and The-Father begin to move from their seats, tidying away the remnants of the wrapping paper and snacks that still lay discarded around us.
"Let's everyone begin to tidy the room, before we start a game. It looks a mess at the moment." Marmie says, as she exits for the kitchen.
Younger-Brother-Daniel groans but his body creaks forward in an exasperated obligatory manner. He clearly doesn't like the idea of doing this, but accepts that it needs to be done anyway.
I glance back at the TV screen, still not able to find movement within my body. The opening credits to Eastenders begins and I hasten to turn the sound off, not interested in the depressing scene this classic soap is about to bring to Christmas day. However, this is the only thing that I am able to force myself to do. I'm still in shock. I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that there will never be another episode with Matt Smith playing the Doctor and, although there is a part of me who is incredibly excited at the notion of Peter Capaldi taking his place, I am not able to register that part because my love for Matt Smith's portrayal of my favourite fictional character of all time, is still so strong.
I have all these thoughts running through my head, all of which is only doubled by the emotional rollercoaster I have just experienced in seeing Amy Pond address her Raggedy Man once more. I am a wreck. The tears shed from Matt Smith's departure are still fresh on my cheeks; clinging on for dear life. They too, like the rest of me, aren't ready to let go of this moment.
I glance around at the now empty room, and manage to muster up the emotional stamina to open Facebook. I am outraged at the seemingly blase reaction my family have had to this devastating time in my life. I let out my outrage in the form of a facebook status, announcing to the world that my time for grieving is being forcibly cut short. I am spent. I am sad. I desperately search for anything; a vine, a funny picture, anything that might allow me to feel happiness again. I find one that fills me with a shot of happiness:
I find I am able to smile once more. I realise that there are always opportunities to go back and see Matt Smith. That the image of him taking his bow tie off one final time, doesn't have to be the last thing I see of him. No... I can go back and watch him put that bow tie on for the first time ever... just as he gives the first of his many, many kick-ass speeches; as he tells the Atraxi to "basically, run."
I nod my head in acceptance, as I come to terms with this new revelation and find it help me in the grieving process. I close my eyes, curl up into a ball and take a moment to mentally tell myself that everything will be okay.
The sound of Marmie's footsteps coming into the room interrupts my moment of self-healing.
"Seriously, Lisa." She says. "I did ask for your help in tidying this room. How else are we meant to enjoy Christmas, with a messy room?"
"Does no one care that Matt Smith just died?" I shout back.
Marmie throws me a perplexed look.
"Who?" She asks.
"Exactly!!" I shout as I throw my hands up in the air and storm out of the room.
Honestly... some people are just so insensitive.
To everyone else, I am so sorry for your loss.
Peace out my lovelies.
The closing credits to Matt Smith's final episode as the Doctor comes onto the screen. I can't take my eyes off the TV, for fear that my doing so will confirm the terrible future that is now laid out for me in my Whovian world. The room is silent but for the music that signals the end of the episode, as it escapes from the TV. I try my hardest to compose myself into some form of calm that will allow me to speak actual words without breaking out into uncontrollable sobs. Once I am as close to being able to do this as I can be, I take a deep breath and open my mouth.
"The transition from Matt Smith to Peter Capaldi was too quick. It came as a shock." I say.
"Really?" Marmie says. "I thought the whole thing was too long."
My gaze shoots from the screen and starts throwing deep, sharp and deadly daggers at my mother. I could forgive her for a great many things, but this? This is too much. Clearly not enough time has passed for her to be as insensitive as she is being.
"If you're going to insist on not understanding the magnitude of what has happened, then I suggest you don't say anything at all." I shoot back.
"Anyone up for a game of Munchkin?" Younger-Brother-Daniel offers to the room.
There are murmurs of agreement to this suggestion and both Marmie and The-Father begin to move from their seats, tidying away the remnants of the wrapping paper and snacks that still lay discarded around us.
"Let's everyone begin to tidy the room, before we start a game. It looks a mess at the moment." Marmie says, as she exits for the kitchen.
Younger-Brother-Daniel groans but his body creaks forward in an exasperated obligatory manner. He clearly doesn't like the idea of doing this, but accepts that it needs to be done anyway.
I glance back at the TV screen, still not able to find movement within my body. The opening credits to Eastenders begins and I hasten to turn the sound off, not interested in the depressing scene this classic soap is about to bring to Christmas day. However, this is the only thing that I am able to force myself to do. I'm still in shock. I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that there will never be another episode with Matt Smith playing the Doctor and, although there is a part of me who is incredibly excited at the notion of Peter Capaldi taking his place, I am not able to register that part because my love for Matt Smith's portrayal of my favourite fictional character of all time, is still so strong.
I have all these thoughts running through my head, all of which is only doubled by the emotional rollercoaster I have just experienced in seeing Amy Pond address her Raggedy Man once more. I am a wreck. The tears shed from Matt Smith's departure are still fresh on my cheeks; clinging on for dear life. They too, like the rest of me, aren't ready to let go of this moment.
I glance around at the now empty room, and manage to muster up the emotional stamina to open Facebook. I am outraged at the seemingly blase reaction my family have had to this devastating time in my life. I let out my outrage in the form of a facebook status, announcing to the world that my time for grieving is being forcibly cut short. I am spent. I am sad. I desperately search for anything; a vine, a funny picture, anything that might allow me to feel happiness again. I find one that fills me with a shot of happiness:
I find I am able to smile once more. I realise that there are always opportunities to go back and see Matt Smith. That the image of him taking his bow tie off one final time, doesn't have to be the last thing I see of him. No... I can go back and watch him put that bow tie on for the first time ever... just as he gives the first of his many, many kick-ass speeches; as he tells the Atraxi to "basically, run."
I nod my head in acceptance, as I come to terms with this new revelation and find it help me in the grieving process. I close my eyes, curl up into a ball and take a moment to mentally tell myself that everything will be okay.
The sound of Marmie's footsteps coming into the room interrupts my moment of self-healing.
"Seriously, Lisa." She says. "I did ask for your help in tidying this room. How else are we meant to enjoy Christmas, with a messy room?"
"Does no one care that Matt Smith just died?" I shout back.
Marmie throws me a perplexed look.
"Who?" She asks.
"Exactly!!" I shout as I throw my hands up in the air and storm out of the room.
Honestly... some people are just so insensitive.
To everyone else, I am so sorry for your loss.
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
*Sighs* I'm just a social networking whore
I recently did something on Sunday. I was then given the challenge of doing this thing and then not mentioning that I did it on any social networking site. I've lasted two days so far and I'm struggling. I have all these little phrases and comments that I want to say about it, but I can't... because I was challenged... and I have a competitive streak in me that rivals all other competitive streaks. If I fail this challenge, I will hate myself and then Christmas will be ruined... for everyone. Personally, I don't want to be the person who ruins Christmas for everyone, so I'm soldiering on and not mentioning it, to save Christmas. You're welcome.
...
Before you say it, talking about it on this post doesn't count. I'm not mentioning what I did, just that I did it. Therefore, I'm not commenting on it and not advertising it and being totally comfortable within my own skin that I don't need to advertise my entire life on the internet...
...
Argh, who am I kidding? I do need the social networking. It's my drug. If I don't document my life then I am nothing. I am void of things. I am blank.
Guys, I don't want to be blank. It sounds boring... although it also sounds relaxing... maybe, I want to be part blank... maybe.
Anywho, my competitive side has the edge over my addiction and I'm not going to mention what I did. For those who are imagining that it was some form of life changing thing; it wasn't. My life is exactly the same. The people who were involved in The-Thing also have the exact same lives... as far as I know... Unless something happened after The-Thing and now their lives are dramatically altered. This could have happened. Although, I'm like 98.57% sure that this had nothing to do with The-Thing. This is because The-Thing was mundane and boring. But yet, I'm not allowed to talk about it...
I wonder if I would want to talk about it, if I hadn't been told that I couldn't talk about it. I am definitely one of those people who would press the shiny red button if I was told not to. It's just too tempting. But if it was a shiny red button that said "press me", would I still press it?
...
Yeah, I would. Because it's shiny and red and I like shiny things.
*Sigh*
Life is hard sometimes.
Peace out my lovelies.
...
Before you say it, talking about it on this post doesn't count. I'm not mentioning what I did, just that I did it. Therefore, I'm not commenting on it and not advertising it and being totally comfortable within my own skin that I don't need to advertise my entire life on the internet...
...
Argh, who am I kidding? I do need the social networking. It's my drug. If I don't document my life then I am nothing. I am void of things. I am blank.
Guys, I don't want to be blank. It sounds boring... although it also sounds relaxing... maybe, I want to be part blank... maybe.
Anywho, my competitive side has the edge over my addiction and I'm not going to mention what I did. For those who are imagining that it was some form of life changing thing; it wasn't. My life is exactly the same. The people who were involved in The-Thing also have the exact same lives... as far as I know... Unless something happened after The-Thing and now their lives are dramatically altered. This could have happened. Although, I'm like 98.57% sure that this had nothing to do with The-Thing. This is because The-Thing was mundane and boring. But yet, I'm not allowed to talk about it...
I wonder if I would want to talk about it, if I hadn't been told that I couldn't talk about it. I am definitely one of those people who would press the shiny red button if I was told not to. It's just too tempting. But if it was a shiny red button that said "press me", would I still press it?
...
Yeah, I would. Because it's shiny and red and I like shiny things.
*Sigh*
Life is hard sometimes.
Peace out my lovelies.
Thursday, 12 December 2013
Can I get a whoop whoop?... And other such hilarious noises.
Guys! Christmas is like really soon and shizzle!
Best Christmas present so far, I no longer have to move! Huzzah! This is the first Christmas in three years where I've been able to stay in a house and not have to pack and move my life once more! Awesomeness in a bag, that is... awesomeness in a bag.
Other stuff?? Well, I have a new job!
Yup, for the first time in 10 years, I am no longer employed by the NHS. I have become ex-employed by them, I've broken free!! ... Granted, I've just moved to another hospital in the private field, but still! It's progress.
Also! I have a uniform in this new place. People might not be so excited about this, but ladies and gents, I am. I am mega excited. No longer do I have to wake up and realise that I have absolutely nothing to wear... no longer do I have to work out what outfit is most comfortable and yet still looks presentable for work life. Nope. Instead, I throw on the same trousers, shirt, scarf and blazer every morning and whistle a happy tune as I skip out of my house... okay, I might not actually skip. And, truthfully, I have no clue how to whistle, but in my head I'm doing all those things as I shuffle down the street.
The other thing about the uniform is that there's a chance I may look like I still go to school. This would be laughable, given that I'm 28, if it wasn't for the fact that I still get ID'ed for 15 movies at the moment, so the school uniform look really does just encourage the teenage look in me...
Not that I'm complaining. It's actually becoming a little bit of a game with me nowadays... how old can I get, before people stop asking me for ID when I want to buy a bottle of wine? At the moment, I've managed to get it down to only being asked about 60% of the time, but that's largely due to the fact that the people at my local supermarket have finally come to terms with the fact that my birthyear isn't a lie, like they initially thought, and they've stopped asking. Occasionally, they look at me as if to say "you've hoodwinked me somehow" but when I show them a passport, debit card, drivers license and my birth certificate, it's kind of hard to dispute the age.
Anywho... I fear I've digressed (as per usual).
So, I've covered no longer having to move and my new job... anything else?
Oh! New book!!!! Eeek! Book 2 of the Utopia Series is so near completion I can almost taste the sweat and tears I'm forcing my characters to endure! I can promise you that all the faves from the first book are back, as well as some of the not so faves. There are also new faces and a whole load of people talking and stuff happening and all of this without the sheer number of people I killed in the first book. If you're worried that's a spoiler, I wouldn't really fret about it; given that in the first book, the entire population, except for 1,000 people, were killed. Following that logic, I could kill off the whole of the remaining characters and it still wouldn't even come close to the genaside I performed in the first book... Not that I'm going to kill them all off or anything... or am I??
The book's called A World Reborn, and I'm really trying to get it out for Christmas, although I might be cutting it a bit fine with that one, so might have to resort to the new year. I will keep you posted. Also, Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and One-And-Only-Daniela have both read it and have given it their approval, and we all know, if they like it the whole world will, because they're awesome.
If you haven't read the first one yet... check out the link in the right hand side (had to check my left from my right before typing that) and follow the link! It's available on Amazon. Go nuts!
Anything else?????
Ummmm... Well, nope. I'm pretty certain that's it. I am developing my second cold, a day after my first one went away, which is always fun and completely normal for me at this festive period of the year. But other than that, due to the sheer amount of typing and editing and Netflixing and having no moneying, I have done absolutely sod all with my social life recently. But I've still found ways of living dangerously... you see, instead of going to bed at 7:30pm, like I have done in the past, I've been staying up to 10pm and sometimes even 11pm!! Don't get me started... it's been mental. As if to prove it, it has just gone 11pm now and I'm typing this!
...
Actually, that is quite late. I should be getting some sleep. The last thing I want to do is become out of control.
Peace out my lovelies
Best Christmas present so far, I no longer have to move! Huzzah! This is the first Christmas in three years where I've been able to stay in a house and not have to pack and move my life once more! Awesomeness in a bag, that is... awesomeness in a bag.
Other stuff?? Well, I have a new job!
Yup, for the first time in 10 years, I am no longer employed by the NHS. I have become ex-employed by them, I've broken free!! ... Granted, I've just moved to another hospital in the private field, but still! It's progress.
Also! I have a uniform in this new place. People might not be so excited about this, but ladies and gents, I am. I am mega excited. No longer do I have to wake up and realise that I have absolutely nothing to wear... no longer do I have to work out what outfit is most comfortable and yet still looks presentable for work life. Nope. Instead, I throw on the same trousers, shirt, scarf and blazer every morning and whistle a happy tune as I skip out of my house... okay, I might not actually skip. And, truthfully, I have no clue how to whistle, but in my head I'm doing all those things as I shuffle down the street.
The other thing about the uniform is that there's a chance I may look like I still go to school. This would be laughable, given that I'm 28, if it wasn't for the fact that I still get ID'ed for 15 movies at the moment, so the school uniform look really does just encourage the teenage look in me...
Not that I'm complaining. It's actually becoming a little bit of a game with me nowadays... how old can I get, before people stop asking me for ID when I want to buy a bottle of wine? At the moment, I've managed to get it down to only being asked about 60% of the time, but that's largely due to the fact that the people at my local supermarket have finally come to terms with the fact that my birthyear isn't a lie, like they initially thought, and they've stopped asking. Occasionally, they look at me as if to say "you've hoodwinked me somehow" but when I show them a passport, debit card, drivers license and my birth certificate, it's kind of hard to dispute the age.
Anywho... I fear I've digressed (as per usual).
So, I've covered no longer having to move and my new job... anything else?
Oh! New book!!!! Eeek! Book 2 of the Utopia Series is so near completion I can almost taste the sweat and tears I'm forcing my characters to endure! I can promise you that all the faves from the first book are back, as well as some of the not so faves. There are also new faces and a whole load of people talking and stuff happening and all of this without the sheer number of people I killed in the first book. If you're worried that's a spoiler, I wouldn't really fret about it; given that in the first book, the entire population, except for 1,000 people, were killed. Following that logic, I could kill off the whole of the remaining characters and it still wouldn't even come close to the genaside I performed in the first book... Not that I'm going to kill them all off or anything... or am I??
The book's called A World Reborn, and I'm really trying to get it out for Christmas, although I might be cutting it a bit fine with that one, so might have to resort to the new year. I will keep you posted. Also, Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and One-And-Only-Daniela have both read it and have given it their approval, and we all know, if they like it the whole world will, because they're awesome.
If you haven't read the first one yet... check out the link in the right hand side (had to check my left from my right before typing that) and follow the link! It's available on Amazon. Go nuts!
Anything else?????
Ummmm... Well, nope. I'm pretty certain that's it. I am developing my second cold, a day after my first one went away, which is always fun and completely normal for me at this festive period of the year. But other than that, due to the sheer amount of typing and editing and Netflixing and having no moneying, I have done absolutely sod all with my social life recently. But I've still found ways of living dangerously... you see, instead of going to bed at 7:30pm, like I have done in the past, I've been staying up to 10pm and sometimes even 11pm!! Don't get me started... it's been mental. As if to prove it, it has just gone 11pm now and I'm typing this!
...
Actually, that is quite late. I should be getting some sleep. The last thing I want to do is become out of control.
Peace out my lovelies
Thursday, 5 December 2013
My first Soapbox post: Christianity versus homosexuality... It does my freakin head in
Hi guys.
So, you may have picked up from me that I'm not one to get annoyed at much. Sure, I share indifference to things, sometimes I'm downright lazy about stuff, but usually I just coast through life and try not to get involved in anything too confrontational or angry. Mostly because I don't like it... it gives me weird ticks and I get all panicky and cry in inappropriate moments... I guess it's kinda entertaining to watch, but it tends to backfire on me most of the time.
However...
A topic has been raised recently that, when raised in the past, has always evoked some form of reaction out of me, and none more so than it did last week. I've grown up being sure of two main things in my life; 1. I'm a Christian and 2. I make a damn good Fag Hag. These two things have tended to conflict with each other over the years and caused me to battle with what I genuinely believe is right and what others have told me is so. This is what I would like to talk about today.
I would like to say right away, before you guys turn off from this post and never talk to me again for being a bigot; this is not a post discriminating against homosexuality. I am in no way against anything to do with same sex relationships, in fact I freakin love it. As I'm a person who finds relationships the teensiest bit hard, seeing someone fall for another person is completely awesome to me, regardless of the sex of either party.
My "beef", if we have to call it anything, is with the fact that, unfortunately, hearing a Christian person say that they are supportive of homosexuality is something that I, for one, have rarely (if ever) heard before. In fact, every time I hear of discrimination against same sex relationships, 9 times out of 10, the reason used is that "God sees it as wrong."
Ugh... if I have to hear that one more time, I swear I will lose it. I get so angry, not just because it discriminates against a group of people who haven't done anything wrong, but also because it alienates those people from ever thinking that there is any form of loving God out there for them. Both of these "facts" I have experienced, in all my 28 years, not to be true in any way.
So how are these opinions shown? I've found that there are two ways in which Churches today approach the topic of being against homosexuality:
1. The all out and angry "God hates Fags and you're all going to hell" approach.
Yes, this is the one the world hears about the most. Mostly because, the statements are made to gain as much attention as possible and, usually, are so shocking that they then become newsworthy. This is the approach that depicts God as an angry and fearful God who is just chomping at the bit to bind people's souls into the fiery pits of hell so as enforce his overall power on the world... or something...
It's an approach that I, being a Christian who has attended church all her life, have seen in different ways, usually as a way to get more people to attend church. The idea that, if a person doesn't repent of their sins and immediately turn to God, they will live in eternal hell forever and ever amen. Now, I'm not going to go into the details of this, as to do so would mean that I would end up on some tangent and I have a lot to say, so am trying to be really strict on myself and my usual writing habits in this area. However, I do want to say this. Regardless of whether I believe the heaven and hell story, and all its implications, to be true, I've never been too keen on the fear approach in convincing people to become Christians and go to church. It seems a little like cheating to me, as playing on one's fear isn't really allowing them to come to the decision on their own, but rather because they feel they have no choice.
In the context of this post however, this approach tends to encourage some Christians to use it as a way of enforcing derogatory belief systems onto lifestyles, races and opinions that they might feel uncomfortable to be around. It would be refreshing, for once, to turn on the news or pick up a paper and hear that someone has been vocal about their own bigoted views and been honest in admitting it's more down to their own personal preference, instead of constantly bringing God into it. Every time I read about a hate crime against homosexuality, not only does the hate crime itself send me into despair but it almost always then has to go ahead and have one of the attackers say "I'm a Christian," or "God told me to" etc and so forth.
I seriously am getting a permanent bruise on my forehead from the sheer amount of times I have banged it against the table in frustration. Please, please, please, readers of this blog; do not think that all Christians behave this way. We don't. We're actually quite nice most of the time and realise there's more to life than finding new and interesting ways to discriminate against people. But, unfortunately, as is the way for any particular organisation or religious group, the extremists (although there aren't as many of them) are the ones who make the most amount of noise and therefore attract the most amount of attention.
Which brings me to the only other public approach I have seen with Christians and homosexuality.
2. The disapproval of the act and not the person
This is the approach that I am most familiar with. It is the one that I have seen in all of the different churches I have attended over the years. It is the idea that God loves everyone and would never hate a person because of their sexual orientation. God wants them to join the church and experience his love and no amount of previous "sexual immorality" in their past is going to stop that. So far, so good. However, there is a clause. In order for a gay person to be a Christian, they have to suppress their attraction towards those of the same sex. They are not chastised for previous experiences, nor for finding a same sex person attractive, but they are expected to at least work incredibly hard at not acting on these feelings in order to be accepted into heaven by God.
I have come across many a situation like this in the past. And for the longest time, I accepted that this is what should happen, although I was never happy with it entirely. In fact, most of the time, when I heard this preached, I would find myself getting downright uncomfortable, but I held my tongue and chalked it up to something that I would never fully understand but had to accept as true.
In my own life outside of church, and within my little Fag Hag circle, I had decided from a ridiculously early age, that I would strive to at least be one positive Christian person in my gay friends' lives. I made it very clear that I was a Christian to them and that I was also completely supportive of the lifestyle they had. Although, as I grew older, I found more and more of my friends get bitter towards the idea of Christianity and what it stood for. Their reasons for this was because they only really seemed to come into conflict with other Christians and, even when the Christian in question was being loving and kind, their words still cut deeply because the message was exactly the same as those in Approach No 1: This opinion was that who they were wasn't acceptable in God's eyes, or theirs.
I know the people who preach this particular message, and encourage Approach No 2 wholeheartedly. They are gorgeous people. They are loving and beautiful and so, so accepting of everyone. They have offered me kindness and support in times when I had nothing else. These people are good people. I wanted to make this very clear before I go on to what I have to say next. There are no good and bad guys in this scenario, just a difference of opinion; albeit one that is potentially very damaging.
I also think that some of these people promote Approach No 2 because the only other real option available is Approach No 1. However, I wanted to throw my 2 cents in here, something that I have been working on over the past 4 or 5 years within my head and have felt my resolve strengthen with every moment... how about if there was an Approach No 3?
3. Realise that perhaps there is nothing damaging to be outraged about and come to terms with accepting this lifestyle for the beautiful thing that it is.
Several years ago I went to a barbecue round two of my friends' house. They are a gay couple and have been living together for years. The barbecue was fun, there was food, laughter and silliness involved. That night I slept round theirs and woke up in the morning to find one of the guys cooking breakfast for his very hungover boyfriend. I watched them from under my duvet on the sofa, and realised that they might actually be one of the most loving and functional relationships I had ever seen. This was the moment I realised that there was absolutely no reason for the God that I knew and loved, to have a single problem with what they shared. The only thing that they were guilty of was love, and love was the one main thing that was promoted in Church.
Another thought then came to me. If these two ever decided that they wanted to go to Church regularly in the future, they may very well be told that they could only stay if they break up with each other. Suddenly, I was angry. Not one part of that made any sense to me and I vowed to myself that I wouldn't sit quiet anymore, when it came to this.
When I have discussed this with fellow Christians, they have said that the very act of being a Christian means that we need to be ready to make sacrifices, should we need to. There is truth in this and it is something that I have had to do myself in the past. The whole prospect stems from the idea that, if you love someone, you would do anything for them. Similar to how you would be with a spouse or child. There have also been comparisons to Monks and Nuns who live their lives in celibacy out of their love for God.
Here is my answer to this... the act of self-sacrifice for someone you love, is only ever really a meaningful thing when it has been a decision made by the individual solely. Monks and Nuns, as far as I am aware, are all in the profession they are on a voluntary basis. They chose this lifestyle for themselves; it wasn't forced on them on the basis of there not being any other choice. There are gay people within the church who have chosen to stay within church and be celibate, never acting on the sexual orientation that comes so natural to them. This may well be a decision that they are happy with; the people that I have spoken to in this regard have certainly seemed at peace with the concept for the most part, although the strains and stresses involved to get them to this point has seemed heartbreaking to me, especially when I am really wondering whether or not the point of them doing this is really that necessary.
Truth is, and this is the controversial opinion that I'm sure will spark up all kinds of debate amongst the Christian friends who know me, but I just don't see how God could possibly see anything wrong with it. Yes, it's in the bible in clear black and white, but it just doesn't seem to really make sense when compared to most of the rest of the book. I also have formed the opinion that my being a Christian means that the thing I worship isn't a book made by man, but rather the relationship I have with the God I believe to be real. And yes, the bible is sanctioned and blessed by God, but the idea that every word is completely and utterly word perfect when created by imperfect people, makes me wonder. I'm just not ready to believe the words of some men who died thousands of years ago over what I really believe to be true today.
Fact of the matter is, the main lesson that I have always been taught in my growing up in the many churches I have attended, is that A: God made us exactly how he wanted us to be, and B: All he really wants is for us to show the love that he has to everyone who will listen.
So this is what I'm going to do. I believe that God made everyone, including their sexual orientation. I have spoken to enough people to know that a person's attraction to those of the same sex is no more of a choice for them as mine is for those of the opposite sex. Therefore, I have to believe that God made them this way. If this is the case, I can then hypothesise one of two things... that God is a sadist who has decided to cause unending pain to a large majority of our population by making them, by their very nature, an "abomination" to Him; or that He made them this way for a reason, because he really doesn't care all that much about who we love, as long as we love them.
Guys, I don't believe God is a sadist. I believe, in fact, that he spends more time tearing his hair out (if he has hair... I'm not too sure about that one) over the concept that the large majority of his representatives are acting on an archaic piece of text and using it as a way to discriminate against those he carefully and wonderfully made. I believe that he has been doing this for most of our existance as, let's face it, we don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to promoting God's tolerance with other cultures, races and sexes. In fact, the bible has been used to encourage bigotry and intolerance for almost all of our existance. A way of promoting racism, sexism and many more. I believe that this is just a repeat of history, and one that thankfully, seems to be getting better, although we are nowhere near being there yet.
When expressing this opinion last week, I was told that by defining homosexuality as a "race" I am therefore opening a whole can of worms of what else can be defined as a "race". This person then went on to compare this group of people with those of adulterers and paedophiles etc. I had never been so angry. To even consider that the act of man loving another man or woman loving another woman is considered to be on the same level as those types of things that cause harm and hurt to people around them, had my blood running cold. This is where the main irk lies in my anger, and my main plea for sanity to be restored to the Christian Church. There is this unexplained idea that somehow, same sex relationships are evil and wrong... to those people, I ask why? What on earth are they doing that promotes one iota of evil deed? They're not hurting people, they're just trying to get on with their lives. The only evil I see in this, is the intolerance that is bred against their lifestyle. This therefore suggesting that the evil and hurt lies within God's representatives, rather than any homosexual person. To alienate and shun a person for who they are is bullying, simple as. This is something that I know any Christian would agree as being the complete opposite of what Christianity promotes God to be.
The sad thing that I am facing at the moment is that I can't seem to find many people who share my view. There are odd friends, ones who support this concept, but to find an entire church that promotes unconditional support, love and acceptance in this area has been entirely fruitless for me. I'm sure they are out there. I've heard the odd story occasionally, but I've yet to experience it for myself.
About five months ago, I stopped going to Church for the first time in my entire life. My reason for this was simple; I could no longer sit and ignore the bigotry towards homosexual people, no matter how kindly it was portrayed. It seemed wrong for me to attend an organisation who openly admitted to hating the idea of homosexuality and wanted to find a way of eradicating it. But above all, it made me sad. The same way, I am really beginning to believe it makes God sad. This isn't the life that he had planned for his children, to fight against each other's views because they differ from their own. He made us different, so that we can learn from each other.
When making my decision to leave the church, I decided that I had a choice to make, I could either stay and accept that homosexuality is wrong, as this is what the bible preaches, or I could go and give up my beliefs.
I chose neither. I left, but I know that my anger wouldn't have been nearly as prominent had it not been for the fact that I knew that this was the wrong way Christian's should be approaching this topic. I am so upset over this because I believe that it is the Church who need to change their views, because I believe that it is wrong. I believe that someone can have an awesome life as a Christian and love a person who shares the same sex with them, at the same time. I believe that a change needs to happen and it needs to happen soon. I, for one, am going to strive to find a church who believes the same as me. I live in London, there must be one somewhere. And in the meantime, I will try my hardest to at least let any gay people out there know that it doesn't have to be one way or the other when it comes to being a Christian. If you want to be a Christian, you can be one, and love anyone you choose to in the process, because, if it's good enough for us "straight people", then it damn well should be good enough for you.
Peace out my lovelies.
So, you may have picked up from me that I'm not one to get annoyed at much. Sure, I share indifference to things, sometimes I'm downright lazy about stuff, but usually I just coast through life and try not to get involved in anything too confrontational or angry. Mostly because I don't like it... it gives me weird ticks and I get all panicky and cry in inappropriate moments... I guess it's kinda entertaining to watch, but it tends to backfire on me most of the time.
However...
A topic has been raised recently that, when raised in the past, has always evoked some form of reaction out of me, and none more so than it did last week. I've grown up being sure of two main things in my life; 1. I'm a Christian and 2. I make a damn good Fag Hag. These two things have tended to conflict with each other over the years and caused me to battle with what I genuinely believe is right and what others have told me is so. This is what I would like to talk about today.
I would like to say right away, before you guys turn off from this post and never talk to me again for being a bigot; this is not a post discriminating against homosexuality. I am in no way against anything to do with same sex relationships, in fact I freakin love it. As I'm a person who finds relationships the teensiest bit hard, seeing someone fall for another person is completely awesome to me, regardless of the sex of either party.
My "beef", if we have to call it anything, is with the fact that, unfortunately, hearing a Christian person say that they are supportive of homosexuality is something that I, for one, have rarely (if ever) heard before. In fact, every time I hear of discrimination against same sex relationships, 9 times out of 10, the reason used is that "God sees it as wrong."
Ugh... if I have to hear that one more time, I swear I will lose it. I get so angry, not just because it discriminates against a group of people who haven't done anything wrong, but also because it alienates those people from ever thinking that there is any form of loving God out there for them. Both of these "facts" I have experienced, in all my 28 years, not to be true in any way.
So how are these opinions shown? I've found that there are two ways in which Churches today approach the topic of being against homosexuality:
1. The all out and angry "God hates Fags and you're all going to hell" approach.
Yes, this is the one the world hears about the most. Mostly because, the statements are made to gain as much attention as possible and, usually, are so shocking that they then become newsworthy. This is the approach that depicts God as an angry and fearful God who is just chomping at the bit to bind people's souls into the fiery pits of hell so as enforce his overall power on the world... or something...
It's an approach that I, being a Christian who has attended church all her life, have seen in different ways, usually as a way to get more people to attend church. The idea that, if a person doesn't repent of their sins and immediately turn to God, they will live in eternal hell forever and ever amen. Now, I'm not going to go into the details of this, as to do so would mean that I would end up on some tangent and I have a lot to say, so am trying to be really strict on myself and my usual writing habits in this area. However, I do want to say this. Regardless of whether I believe the heaven and hell story, and all its implications, to be true, I've never been too keen on the fear approach in convincing people to become Christians and go to church. It seems a little like cheating to me, as playing on one's fear isn't really allowing them to come to the decision on their own, but rather because they feel they have no choice.
In the context of this post however, this approach tends to encourage some Christians to use it as a way of enforcing derogatory belief systems onto lifestyles, races and opinions that they might feel uncomfortable to be around. It would be refreshing, for once, to turn on the news or pick up a paper and hear that someone has been vocal about their own bigoted views and been honest in admitting it's more down to their own personal preference, instead of constantly bringing God into it. Every time I read about a hate crime against homosexuality, not only does the hate crime itself send me into despair but it almost always then has to go ahead and have one of the attackers say "I'm a Christian," or "God told me to" etc and so forth.
I seriously am getting a permanent bruise on my forehead from the sheer amount of times I have banged it against the table in frustration. Please, please, please, readers of this blog; do not think that all Christians behave this way. We don't. We're actually quite nice most of the time and realise there's more to life than finding new and interesting ways to discriminate against people. But, unfortunately, as is the way for any particular organisation or religious group, the extremists (although there aren't as many of them) are the ones who make the most amount of noise and therefore attract the most amount of attention.
Which brings me to the only other public approach I have seen with Christians and homosexuality.
2. The disapproval of the act and not the person
This is the approach that I am most familiar with. It is the one that I have seen in all of the different churches I have attended over the years. It is the idea that God loves everyone and would never hate a person because of their sexual orientation. God wants them to join the church and experience his love and no amount of previous "sexual immorality" in their past is going to stop that. So far, so good. However, there is a clause. In order for a gay person to be a Christian, they have to suppress their attraction towards those of the same sex. They are not chastised for previous experiences, nor for finding a same sex person attractive, but they are expected to at least work incredibly hard at not acting on these feelings in order to be accepted into heaven by God.
I have come across many a situation like this in the past. And for the longest time, I accepted that this is what should happen, although I was never happy with it entirely. In fact, most of the time, when I heard this preached, I would find myself getting downright uncomfortable, but I held my tongue and chalked it up to something that I would never fully understand but had to accept as true.
In my own life outside of church, and within my little Fag Hag circle, I had decided from a ridiculously early age, that I would strive to at least be one positive Christian person in my gay friends' lives. I made it very clear that I was a Christian to them and that I was also completely supportive of the lifestyle they had. Although, as I grew older, I found more and more of my friends get bitter towards the idea of Christianity and what it stood for. Their reasons for this was because they only really seemed to come into conflict with other Christians and, even when the Christian in question was being loving and kind, their words still cut deeply because the message was exactly the same as those in Approach No 1: This opinion was that who they were wasn't acceptable in God's eyes, or theirs.
I know the people who preach this particular message, and encourage Approach No 2 wholeheartedly. They are gorgeous people. They are loving and beautiful and so, so accepting of everyone. They have offered me kindness and support in times when I had nothing else. These people are good people. I wanted to make this very clear before I go on to what I have to say next. There are no good and bad guys in this scenario, just a difference of opinion; albeit one that is potentially very damaging.
I also think that some of these people promote Approach No 2 because the only other real option available is Approach No 1. However, I wanted to throw my 2 cents in here, something that I have been working on over the past 4 or 5 years within my head and have felt my resolve strengthen with every moment... how about if there was an Approach No 3?
3. Realise that perhaps there is nothing damaging to be outraged about and come to terms with accepting this lifestyle for the beautiful thing that it is.
Several years ago I went to a barbecue round two of my friends' house. They are a gay couple and have been living together for years. The barbecue was fun, there was food, laughter and silliness involved. That night I slept round theirs and woke up in the morning to find one of the guys cooking breakfast for his very hungover boyfriend. I watched them from under my duvet on the sofa, and realised that they might actually be one of the most loving and functional relationships I had ever seen. This was the moment I realised that there was absolutely no reason for the God that I knew and loved, to have a single problem with what they shared. The only thing that they were guilty of was love, and love was the one main thing that was promoted in Church.
Another thought then came to me. If these two ever decided that they wanted to go to Church regularly in the future, they may very well be told that they could only stay if they break up with each other. Suddenly, I was angry. Not one part of that made any sense to me and I vowed to myself that I wouldn't sit quiet anymore, when it came to this.
When I have discussed this with fellow Christians, they have said that the very act of being a Christian means that we need to be ready to make sacrifices, should we need to. There is truth in this and it is something that I have had to do myself in the past. The whole prospect stems from the idea that, if you love someone, you would do anything for them. Similar to how you would be with a spouse or child. There have also been comparisons to Monks and Nuns who live their lives in celibacy out of their love for God.
Here is my answer to this... the act of self-sacrifice for someone you love, is only ever really a meaningful thing when it has been a decision made by the individual solely. Monks and Nuns, as far as I am aware, are all in the profession they are on a voluntary basis. They chose this lifestyle for themselves; it wasn't forced on them on the basis of there not being any other choice. There are gay people within the church who have chosen to stay within church and be celibate, never acting on the sexual orientation that comes so natural to them. This may well be a decision that they are happy with; the people that I have spoken to in this regard have certainly seemed at peace with the concept for the most part, although the strains and stresses involved to get them to this point has seemed heartbreaking to me, especially when I am really wondering whether or not the point of them doing this is really that necessary.
Truth is, and this is the controversial opinion that I'm sure will spark up all kinds of debate amongst the Christian friends who know me, but I just don't see how God could possibly see anything wrong with it. Yes, it's in the bible in clear black and white, but it just doesn't seem to really make sense when compared to most of the rest of the book. I also have formed the opinion that my being a Christian means that the thing I worship isn't a book made by man, but rather the relationship I have with the God I believe to be real. And yes, the bible is sanctioned and blessed by God, but the idea that every word is completely and utterly word perfect when created by imperfect people, makes me wonder. I'm just not ready to believe the words of some men who died thousands of years ago over what I really believe to be true today.
Fact of the matter is, the main lesson that I have always been taught in my growing up in the many churches I have attended, is that A: God made us exactly how he wanted us to be, and B: All he really wants is for us to show the love that he has to everyone who will listen.
So this is what I'm going to do. I believe that God made everyone, including their sexual orientation. I have spoken to enough people to know that a person's attraction to those of the same sex is no more of a choice for them as mine is for those of the opposite sex. Therefore, I have to believe that God made them this way. If this is the case, I can then hypothesise one of two things... that God is a sadist who has decided to cause unending pain to a large majority of our population by making them, by their very nature, an "abomination" to Him; or that He made them this way for a reason, because he really doesn't care all that much about who we love, as long as we love them.
Guys, I don't believe God is a sadist. I believe, in fact, that he spends more time tearing his hair out (if he has hair... I'm not too sure about that one) over the concept that the large majority of his representatives are acting on an archaic piece of text and using it as a way to discriminate against those he carefully and wonderfully made. I believe that he has been doing this for most of our existance as, let's face it, we don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to promoting God's tolerance with other cultures, races and sexes. In fact, the bible has been used to encourage bigotry and intolerance for almost all of our existance. A way of promoting racism, sexism and many more. I believe that this is just a repeat of history, and one that thankfully, seems to be getting better, although we are nowhere near being there yet.
When expressing this opinion last week, I was told that by defining homosexuality as a "race" I am therefore opening a whole can of worms of what else can be defined as a "race". This person then went on to compare this group of people with those of adulterers and paedophiles etc. I had never been so angry. To even consider that the act of man loving another man or woman loving another woman is considered to be on the same level as those types of things that cause harm and hurt to people around them, had my blood running cold. This is where the main irk lies in my anger, and my main plea for sanity to be restored to the Christian Church. There is this unexplained idea that somehow, same sex relationships are evil and wrong... to those people, I ask why? What on earth are they doing that promotes one iota of evil deed? They're not hurting people, they're just trying to get on with their lives. The only evil I see in this, is the intolerance that is bred against their lifestyle. This therefore suggesting that the evil and hurt lies within God's representatives, rather than any homosexual person. To alienate and shun a person for who they are is bullying, simple as. This is something that I know any Christian would agree as being the complete opposite of what Christianity promotes God to be.
The sad thing that I am facing at the moment is that I can't seem to find many people who share my view. There are odd friends, ones who support this concept, but to find an entire church that promotes unconditional support, love and acceptance in this area has been entirely fruitless for me. I'm sure they are out there. I've heard the odd story occasionally, but I've yet to experience it for myself.
About five months ago, I stopped going to Church for the first time in my entire life. My reason for this was simple; I could no longer sit and ignore the bigotry towards homosexual people, no matter how kindly it was portrayed. It seemed wrong for me to attend an organisation who openly admitted to hating the idea of homosexuality and wanted to find a way of eradicating it. But above all, it made me sad. The same way, I am really beginning to believe it makes God sad. This isn't the life that he had planned for his children, to fight against each other's views because they differ from their own. He made us different, so that we can learn from each other.
When making my decision to leave the church, I decided that I had a choice to make, I could either stay and accept that homosexuality is wrong, as this is what the bible preaches, or I could go and give up my beliefs.
I chose neither. I left, but I know that my anger wouldn't have been nearly as prominent had it not been for the fact that I knew that this was the wrong way Christian's should be approaching this topic. I am so upset over this because I believe that it is the Church who need to change their views, because I believe that it is wrong. I believe that someone can have an awesome life as a Christian and love a person who shares the same sex with them, at the same time. I believe that a change needs to happen and it needs to happen soon. I, for one, am going to strive to find a church who believes the same as me. I live in London, there must be one somewhere. And in the meantime, I will try my hardest to at least let any gay people out there know that it doesn't have to be one way or the other when it comes to being a Christian. If you want to be a Christian, you can be one, and love anyone you choose to in the process, because, if it's good enough for us "straight people", then it damn well should be good enough for you.
Peace out my lovelies.
Sunday, 17 November 2013
A blog post that kinda got away from me...
Guys,
Not only have I disappeared of the scale of blogging, but I've also been a sucky tweeter. I know. I should be shot. I don't blame you if you feel the need to do the shooting... I would ask if you think about it before hand though. Although I would understand, I also don't particularly want to die just yet, so if you can find it in your heart to not kill me and just leave horse heads in my bed instead, that would be grand... Let me know, I'll send you the address.
So what have I been up to? Pretty damn well everything. Since last we spoke, I've moved jobs, almost finished my second book, (which is called "A World Reborn: Book two of the Utopia Series." (For book one, look to your right.... I've put it down the margin about 15,000 times, so you shouldn't be able to miss it)), I've also been editing another book which should be coming out to buy in the shops next year. This book is immense, and when I can, I will devote an entire post to it, it's an expose and very well put together. In addition to this, I've been preparing to move into my 5th house in 3 years and 13th house overall... I haven't found a place yet but I have been given a month to look... I'm not going to lie, I haven't really got to any proper substantial stage with this yet, apart from to randomly shout out "balls" whenever I remember that it's happening. I find the turrets is helping the coping process a little...
I would also like to stress that the reasons for having to move out aren't that I'm horrible to live with and the housemates have had enough (as far as I'm aware, but you never know, of course). It was rather that the landlord wants the house back and so we have to find somewhere else. It kinda sucks because, although I haven't really mentioned this house much on the blog, I have really enjoyed living here. I've lived with 4 other people. They are fun and sing lots around the house and I never feel lonely... also, the thought of moving house for the 13th time... I can't even... it's just ridiculous. No. Hate it. Brain collapsing... words no longer forming... "BALLS!!"
And now I feel better.
Anywho, news on the book front. I am aiming for a publishing date of Christmas-ish. I'm currently utilising the world of NaNoWriMo once more to finish it. It's been touch and go, mainly because of my new job starting, as well as the promise of the Doctor Who 50 years episode, for which I have been feverishly preparing, by re-watching all Doctor Who Episodes from Christopher Eccleston to current day. Some people may see this as procrastinating instead of working... to those people I say this... "What do you know? Huh? Have you even seen Doctor Who? If you have and still don't like it, I don't understand you, but I will acknowledge that people are entitled to their own opinion, even if that opinion is wrong. To those who haven't seen it and claim they hate it... You can't say that!!! You don't know. Don't form opinions over something so awesome without seeing the awesome for yourself... and if you ever find yourself against alien attack and that TARDIS sound never materialises, then you only have yourself to blame as you inevitably die, for not trusting in the doctor hard enough. Not that any of that made sense to you as you've never bothered to find out..."
... People have been telling me lately that my marathon watching of this programme appears to have changed me slightly. I don't know what that's about. I think it's perfectly normal to dream that your in a three way relationship with both David Tennant and Matt Smith, trying to make it work whilst aliens attack the house you live in, where the children to one, if not both, of them are also living. Then, say, if that dream were to progress so that you were suddenly at a party where some guy steals your purse and you end up having an argument with Matt Smith about how he's meant to be the Doctor and yet he didn't do anything to stop the mugging, which then turned into a nag about how you needed more from your husbands and it wouldn't kill them to do the dishes once in a while... that's normal, right?
Also, Younger-Brother-Daniel and I have got tickets for Leicester Square viewing of Doctor Who in 3D... Now, although nothing's been announced, Leicester Square is the place in London where the majority of our film Premieres take place. If anyone was going to turn up, it would be there... and that? That would be glorious.
....
I had every intention today to write a blog about my new job... however, it would appear that I have gone on a slight bit of a tangent... I guess this is just a very valid excuse for me to have to come back and tell you about it tomorrow... It's okay, I've finished the Doctor Who marathon now and, although I am now currently make my way through re-watching Green Wing (one of the weirdest and best comedy series this country has ever had to offer, I recommend it), it's only two series long of 8 episodes each and I'm already on season 2, so I'll have loads of time left... I promise I'll come back.
Peace out my lovelies
Not only have I disappeared of the scale of blogging, but I've also been a sucky tweeter. I know. I should be shot. I don't blame you if you feel the need to do the shooting... I would ask if you think about it before hand though. Although I would understand, I also don't particularly want to die just yet, so if you can find it in your heart to not kill me and just leave horse heads in my bed instead, that would be grand... Let me know, I'll send you the address.
So what have I been up to? Pretty damn well everything. Since last we spoke, I've moved jobs, almost finished my second book, (which is called "A World Reborn: Book two of the Utopia Series." (For book one, look to your right.... I've put it down the margin about 15,000 times, so you shouldn't be able to miss it)), I've also been editing another book which should be coming out to buy in the shops next year. This book is immense, and when I can, I will devote an entire post to it, it's an expose and very well put together. In addition to this, I've been preparing to move into my 5th house in 3 years and 13th house overall... I haven't found a place yet but I have been given a month to look... I'm not going to lie, I haven't really got to any proper substantial stage with this yet, apart from to randomly shout out "balls" whenever I remember that it's happening. I find the turrets is helping the coping process a little...
I would also like to stress that the reasons for having to move out aren't that I'm horrible to live with and the housemates have had enough (as far as I'm aware, but you never know, of course). It was rather that the landlord wants the house back and so we have to find somewhere else. It kinda sucks because, although I haven't really mentioned this house much on the blog, I have really enjoyed living here. I've lived with 4 other people. They are fun and sing lots around the house and I never feel lonely... also, the thought of moving house for the 13th time... I can't even... it's just ridiculous. No. Hate it. Brain collapsing... words no longer forming... "BALLS!!"
And now I feel better.
Anywho, news on the book front. I am aiming for a publishing date of Christmas-ish. I'm currently utilising the world of NaNoWriMo once more to finish it. It's been touch and go, mainly because of my new job starting, as well as the promise of the Doctor Who 50 years episode, for which I have been feverishly preparing, by re-watching all Doctor Who Episodes from Christopher Eccleston to current day. Some people may see this as procrastinating instead of working... to those people I say this... "What do you know? Huh? Have you even seen Doctor Who? If you have and still don't like it, I don't understand you, but I will acknowledge that people are entitled to their own opinion, even if that opinion is wrong. To those who haven't seen it and claim they hate it... You can't say that!!! You don't know. Don't form opinions over something so awesome without seeing the awesome for yourself... and if you ever find yourself against alien attack and that TARDIS sound never materialises, then you only have yourself to blame as you inevitably die, for not trusting in the doctor hard enough. Not that any of that made sense to you as you've never bothered to find out..."
... People have been telling me lately that my marathon watching of this programme appears to have changed me slightly. I don't know what that's about. I think it's perfectly normal to dream that your in a three way relationship with both David Tennant and Matt Smith, trying to make it work whilst aliens attack the house you live in, where the children to one, if not both, of them are also living. Then, say, if that dream were to progress so that you were suddenly at a party where some guy steals your purse and you end up having an argument with Matt Smith about how he's meant to be the Doctor and yet he didn't do anything to stop the mugging, which then turned into a nag about how you needed more from your husbands and it wouldn't kill them to do the dishes once in a while... that's normal, right?
Also, Younger-Brother-Daniel and I have got tickets for Leicester Square viewing of Doctor Who in 3D... Now, although nothing's been announced, Leicester Square is the place in London where the majority of our film Premieres take place. If anyone was going to turn up, it would be there... and that? That would be glorious.
....
I had every intention today to write a blog about my new job... however, it would appear that I have gone on a slight bit of a tangent... I guess this is just a very valid excuse for me to have to come back and tell you about it tomorrow... It's okay, I've finished the Doctor Who marathon now and, although I am now currently make my way through re-watching Green Wing (one of the weirdest and best comedy series this country has ever had to offer, I recommend it), it's only two series long of 8 episodes each and I'm already on season 2, so I'll have loads of time left... I promise I'll come back.
Peace out my lovelies
Wednesday, 9 October 2013
A night of London that was awesome: Part two
As promised, albeit a day late. Here is part 2 of my awesome Friday night in London. This part I shall call:
One-And-Only-Daniela and I try our hand at spontaneity.
Okay, so we leave the darkness of Dans Le Noir to finally set eyes on the couple we had been chatting to all night. Dominique was a tall blonde woman and David a Chinese man. We hugged each other and apparently "The Rack and The Bum" lived up to expectations. Something I was oddly proud of. Dominique and David announced that they were going to Leceister Square to have a drink and asked if we wanted to go. Naturally, not wanting to pass up on a chance to drink, both One-And-Only-Daniela and I agreed whole heartedly and followed them out of the restaurant.
Walking towards the station Dominique pointed at the sleeve of my cream top with glee and exclaimed, "Ha! You spilt something! Ha, no one else did!"
I looked and saw several splotches of red wine all down my sleeve. The same sleeve that had been closest to Dominique.
"Um, I hate to break it to you." I replied. "But you were the only one drinking red wine in there."
Dominique's face changed from one of glee to dismay. "I did that? I'm so sorry! It was all that stupid and redundant gesturing I was doing! Who gestures in the dark? What's the point?"
I laughed at that. "No worries. I'll just buy some white wine and sprinkle it on the same spots. That'll even it out."
"Are you sure? We could buy some Vanish?"
The thought of carrying around a bottle of Vanish on a night out seemed a little odd to me, the white wine option seemed a lot more feasible. Of course.
Anywho, we made it to the underground station and got on a train with the single most amazing drunken man ever. He stood facing the door for the whole of the train journey, a tape player Walkman in his hand. I didn't even know they existed anymore, let alone be used by people. Immediately I loved him, due to the fact that anyone who is that retro deserves my respect and unconditional love. However, this wasn't even the best thing about him. You see, he was clearly listening to a Queen album. How did we know this, I hear you ask? It may have had something to do with him proceeding to serenade the entire carriage with Bohemian Rhapsody, together with every harmony and guitar solo. Every one of us in the carriage couldn't help but join in. Seriously, I felt like we were actually living in some form of Musical episode of my life, where spontaneous singing was the norm. We all also applauded his act, once finished, and was rewarded with an encore of We Will Rock You. Naturally we all clapped along and, sadly our little group of 4 had to leave him mid song as we reached our stop.
Being a woman who has an unnatural obsession with all men ginger, One-And-Only-Daniela (along with pretty much every single one of my friends) has developed a habit of pointing out all ginger men to me when she spots them. An aspect that I love about her and my friends.
One-And-Only-Daniela pointed one beautiful specimen to me and, after baffled looks were exchanged between Dominique and David, I explained to them my obsession. Dominique immediately started in on telling me about a beautiful ginger man both David and Dominique work with. They work as personal trainers at a gym and he was another personal trainer there.
When we arrived at Leceister Square, we immediately saw a pub called "The Brewery Masters." I gazed in wonder.
"What are the chances of that?" I said. "We need to drink and we happen to find a pub that not only sells drinks but are the masters of it!!"
"It must be fate." David added.
We went in, ordered our drinks and Dominique immediately started back in on pimping out her ginger friend. Guys, she really went all out. Not only did she go to his Facebook page to show me pictures, but she also took my number and text me a selection of the best of them. Naturally, I was impressed and proceeded, after minimal encouragement from the group, to save these pictures as my screensaver... Now, not wanting to come across as a weird stalker without his knowledge, we all agreed that it would only be polite to let said ginger man know what we had done. As such, David took a picture of Dominique holding her phone up mid-sending of photo and myself holding up my phone showing my background image, thumbs up and a look of pure glee on my face.
David then sent this photo to said ginger man, thus allowing us all to feel a little better, now that we had admitted our stalker behaviour. Apparently said ginger man found this all very funny, so I narrowly avoided being subject to any type of restraining order. Guys, this just proves that, once again, honesty is the best policy.
We all then decided to catch the midnight showing at The Comedy Store, one of the best comedy clubs London has to offer.
One-And-Only-Daniela and I regularly go to this place. It's always a chance to laugh until we pee, and who doesn't love a chance to do that? However, in the past, One-And-Only-Daniela has always insisted on sitting on any row other than the front, as these tend to be the seats that the comedians at said club will pick on. I, on the other hand, being the natural attention seeking person that I am, have been dying to sit in these seats. Thankfully, Dominique announced that these were the seats that she was heading towards and finally One-And-Only-Daniela caved. Not only did we sit on the front row, but we sat right in front of the Mic. Awesome.
As promised, we were subsequently picked on by the array of comedians all night. David seemed to get the brunt of the picking as, for some reason, talking about the Chinese race was something on all of the comedians repetoire.
This started with the first comedian putting on a Chinese accent, noticing David and suddenly looking horrified.
"You don't mind, do you?" He asked. "I don't want to offend you, you know. Are you offended?"
David feigned complete innocence. "What do you mean?" He asked.
"He's asking if you're offended because you are yellow." Dominique clarified, kissing him on the cheek.
The room all looked at her in dismay; laughing in that way that suggested they really shouldn't be. However, the three of us who had spent the night with him and had heard him refer to himself as yellow at least five times, just laughed.
David then gave a look as if the penny dropped. "Oh! In that case, sure. No problem. I'm not offended."
The comedian then carried on. "Can I ask, whereabouts are you from?" He asked David, clearly wanting to know what country he originated from.
"Hounslow." Both David and Dominique said together.
It was at this point, I turned to One-And-Only-Daniela and simply said. "These are two of the most amazing people I've ever met."
This was met with a look of complete agreement from One-And-Only-Daniela.
The night continued and I was even hit on by an Irish comedian which was pretty cool. Then something happened that has officially been put into one of my proudest moments of my life. The penultimate comedian came on and was hella funny, although a little close to the mark with some of his jokes. Now, when this happens, and I find myself laughing at black humour that also leaves me questioning why I find it funny, I have a jerk reaction every time. Basically, I laugh, whilst simultaneously covering my face and burying my head in the shoulder of the person closest to me.
This is what I was doing for the majority of this man's act. Of course, he picks up on this and singles me out.
"You've been covering your mouth a lot during my act," he said. "Do I disgust you so much? I mean seriously, is what I'm saying having such an effect that you feel the need to vomit? Am I that bad?"
He then proceeded to wait for my response. When I realised that I was going to have to answer his question, I sat there, my face dead pan, looked him straight in the eye and in my most serious voice, answered; "you are very funny."
He gave me a look as if to say 'touché' and started to laugh. Not only that, but the rest of the club laughed too. Okay, now guys, I appreciate that I do tend to cause one or two people to laugh... Usually at me, rather than anything else, but right then? In that moment? It appeared I had attempted to make a funny and people liked it. I had also caused a professional comedian to fall silent at my words, as he struggled for his comeback...
I didn't quite know what to do with myself. Panic suddenly rose deep within me, what should I do now? What if I'm expected to say more? What if I ruin it by openly doing the jumping jacks my insides were doing in glee? That wasn't what comedians did, they made funnies and then followed it up with the calm, cool and collected attitude that says "Yes I'm that cool, I know it, you know it. Just another day for me in my awesome life."
Thing is, even in my recalling it now, it doesn't even seem that funny and totally falls in the "You had to be there" column but guys, I near off had a panic attack from the sudden fictional pressure I had formulated in my mind.
And this is why I will never be a comedian. Even if I manage to come up with a few jokes that have people laughing, I don't think I'd survive the fallout. I'd get to my third joke and collapse to my death from the pressure of it.
I don't know if One-And-Only-Daniela and I will ever see Dominique and David again. It was a fleeting romance... Four ships who met in the night, you might say. But all I know is they are both definitely two of the most awesome people I have ever met... After you guys, of course.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 7 October 2013
A night of London that was awesome. Part one.
One-And-Only-Daniela and I recently went to see Richard Curtis' new movie "About Time." To say this film was the best thing to happen to me all year would... Well, probably not be exactly true as this year has probably been one of my favourite years ever, but it would probably come pretty close... Definitely it's in my top 10 or 20 things to happen to me... Possibly. Anyway, it's good.
In the movie, the lovely Rachel McAdams meets the love of her life in a restaurant called Dans Le Noir. It's a restaurant in London that, once we saw the movie, both myself and One-And-Only-Daniela decided to make our life goal to go to. You may have heard of the concept before, and if you haven't, please find the nearest one to you, it's awesome. You see, it's a restaurant where you eat in complete darkness.
Anywho, One-And-Only-Daniela, being the booking queen that she is, found the actual restaurant within a couple of days and we were booked in to go, moments later.
This place is where I found myself Friday night. One-And-Only-Daniela and I rocked up at 7pm and was met in this dimly lit bar entrance/lobby by a smiling man who asked us if we had ever been to this restaurant before. We said no, he simply smiled and said.
"You're in for a treat."
He then directed us to lockers where he asked us to put all out coats, bags, phones etc inside. We did as we were told and returned to the man with a slightly nervous and naked feeling...
Next we were given a menu, on the menu were four colours. These colours represented the type of course we could choose. These were:
White: Surprise menu
Green: Vegetarian surprise menu
Blue: Fish surprise menu
Red: Meat surprise menu
He explained that we were to pick which one we wanted and left with that same knowing grin. I glanced nervously at One-And-Only-Daniela.
"Um, Daniela, I think we're going to have to eat the food without knowing what it is."
One-And-Only-Daniela looked at me with a look that said exactly what I was thinking... It was a look of 80% anticipation and 30% fear.
"How brave are you feeling?" I asked, pointing at the White course, which could literally turn out to be anything.
"Not that brave." One-And-Only-Daniela mumbled.
"Thank goodness." I replied, "I didn't want to seem like a wimp. If you had chosen that one, I'd have had to go with you..."
We both ended up settling for the meat surprise three course with a collection of surprise cocktails and surprise wines. Once we gave the menu back, we were guided to an even dimmer hallway where a woman was waiting for us, once again smiling that smile that made my stomach want to empty it's contents whilst simultaneously wanting to run for the hills. I turned to One-And-Only-Daniela.
"Daniela, I'm worried. I'm pretty certain I'm going to go in there and suddenly I'm going to think that if someone wanted to stab me, I'd never know... Then I'll freak out and run about in the dark trying to find a light switch that probably doesn't exist, waving a fork around and stabbing everyone in the eye as I fight off the attacker in my mind. Then what? Will I be arrested? Will I have to serve time for attacking multiple people? I can't go to prison Daniela, I wouldn't survive one day. Seriously."
One-And-Only-Daniela thought about this for a moment. "Well, think of it this way, if you can't see the person then at least you won't have to worry about defending yourself, you'll only know about it when the knife is in your body."
I just stared at One-And-Only-Daniela with a look of dismay as she smiled back at me with a self-satisfaction that suggested her words had actually been helpful.
"Do me a favour." I said. "If you are ever tempted to be a therapist, don't."
Before she could reply, the woman in the hallway came over and started in on her instructions.
"Okay, in a minute, your waitress will arrive. Her name's Lisa and she will guide you to your seats. The important thing to know about all our waiters is that they are all blind. She knows the room better than anyone."
Lisa arrived then and smiled at us. After the first woman introduced us to her, she began in our next instructions.
"Okay, now I need Lisa (me, in case you were confused) to hold onto my shoulder. Daniela, if you can hold onto Lisa's, and we'll go in."
We did as we were told and our waitress guided us into a room that had to be the darkest room I had ever been in. I tried to keep my calm, leaving all my thoughts of being stabbed at the door. However, One-And-Only-Daniela had decided that this was the perfect time to dig her nails into my shoulder and grab my free hand with a grip that felt as if every bone in my hand had crumbled to dust. Awesome.
Waitress-Lisa then proceeded to talk to us, describing the room and informing us of what was to our left and right. Eventually she grabbed the hand I had on her shoulder and guided it down to a chair in front of me. She told me to pull it out and sit down... guys, I have trouble performing this task without falling over in broad daylight, let alone in this room. To make matters worse, she took One-And-Only-Daniela's hand off my shoulder and suddenly I felt completely exposed. I briefly considered turning and making a run for it, but figured that that would just cause even more mess than sitting down. So I stumbled around for the seat and collapsed onto it, resting my hands on the apparent table in front of me and clutching onto the edge of it as if my life depended on it.
"Okay," Waitress-Lisa said. "Now that you are both sitting down, if you feel in front of you, you will find a knife and fork, napkin and two glasses."
... Yes you heard right, not only did this restaurant deem it safe enough to actually hold glass on its table, something that not even the dimly lit theatres and clubs would dare to do, it also had actual knives. Suddenly my worry of being stabbed by a stranger no longer seemed my biggest concern. No, a stranger wouldn't be stabbing me tonight, it would appear that this is something I'm quite clearly going to end up doing myself.
Waitress-Lisa left to collect two other people and One-And-Only-Daniela and I turned into the most PDA couple in the world. We leant forward, found each other's hands and held on for dear life.
The only way I can describe what it was to be in that room is to say that it felt as if I had actually lost my sight. I found myself gazing off at a diagonal direction whilst talking to Daniela and suddenly relying totally on touch and sound. It was the weirdest feeling.
The other two people were guided to the seats next to us and we heard them voice every one of our own thoughts. Phrases like "Holy crap, I'm blind" and "There are knives on this table?" Were exclaimed.
This broke the ice and soon One-And-Only-Daniela and I were chatting to this couple next to us as if we had known them all our lives. No word of a lie, these two were hilarious. Their names were Dominique and David. We had no clue who they were, but our joint blindness bonded us.
David was the one that noticed the dimmest of red lights above our table. Realising that this was probably an infra-red camera, suddenly he exclaimed, "There are people who can see this!"
"Oh, this is definitely a video I want to see afterwards." Dominique added.
"Maybe they offer a service like at theme parks," David suggested. "Afterwards they show you a series of photos of you eating the food and ask which one you want to buy."
"If that's the case, I think we should all smile and wave." I offered.
We did. We also embarked on a series of games throughout the night. There was the "try and poke the correct body part" game. I was hella good at this game. One-And-Only-Daniela sucked at it. Goodness knows how many times she stuck a finger in my nose or mouth. David also insisted on clinking glasses at every new drink brought over and high fiving each other. This actually went surprisingly well, especially as I usually suck at high fives when I can see.
The food was awesome. I ate the first course with my fingers as I wasn't quite ready to handle sharp objects yet. It felt like salmon, which confused me as we had ordered a pure meat menu. Shortly after tasting it, I realised it was, in fact, raw beef. It was actually beautiful. Something I would never have tried if I had known. Wanna see a picture?
Doesn't it look scrummy? The main course was a selection of meat, all of which One-And-Only-Daniela and I got wrong. However, Dominique and David had braved the white menu, so our food wasn't as daring as what they had had, which I think involved Zebra and Ostrich. I had no choice but to use the knife and fork for this particular course as the plate alone almost burnt me.
I had chosen, quite stupidly might I add, to wear a cream top that night. Thankfully I had also gained enough common sense to tuck my napkin safely into my neck line. This then saved my top when I leant forward to search for my drink and buried my breasts into my plate.
"Ah crap." I said. "I've just dipped my boobs in my food."
"So, what I'm hearing from you," David replied. "Is that you have a big rack?"
"I'm not going to lie." I said. "They are rather large."
"I'm imagining a lolly pop figure." David said.
"If the lolly is a Choc-Ice, then yes. You would be correct."
"I feel like we should dance." Dominique offered.
"Daniela pretty much invented the wine." I explained. "She knows how to move her booty. Daniela, show them."
"Is she doing it yet?" Dominique asked into the darkness. "Because if so, it's amazing."
"So, what you're saying is," David chipped in, "Lisa has a rack and Daniela has a large arse?"
"That pretty much sums us up, right Daniela?" I said.
"Pretty much."
"Well, I for one am looking forward to seeing you two when we get out." David added.
And that was how cool the whole thing was, we couldn't see each other, we had no clue what the other looked like, yet we were chatting away for AGES.
The rest of the meal consisted of David causing the whole restaurant to sing Happy Birthday to a random stranger we were pretty certain wasn't actually celebrating her birthday and a lot of exclamations along the lines of "why am I nodding to what you say? You can't see me!"
It was amazeballs. And the night didn't end there... But for now, my blog will... I fear I've talked enough and I want to give the second half of our night justice so I will write part 2 tomorrow... Tune in my lovelies, I'm making up for a hell of a lot of lost time.
Peace hit my lovelies.
Monday, 9 September 2013
Older-Brother-Glyn has apparently turned out to be quite the romantic
Okay, so those who follow me on Twitter might have heard some very excited tweets coming from my way a couple of weeks ago in relation to a certain family member of mine and a proposal that was simply out of this world.
Older-Brother-Glyn fought off the curse that seemed to have grabbed hold of myself and my siblings. One that has pretty much been our lives for as long as we can remember. You see, it's not just me that has seemed incapable of forming a romantic attachment to another human being, but one that both my brothers have (until recent years) also struggled with. We never knew why we seemed incapable of relationships, but we were all three seemingly without the ability for the majority of our lives.
This is why, when Older-Brother-Glyn announced initially, a year and a half ago, that he was now dating an actual real life human being, we were all a little bit shocked and not quite believing it to be true. Marmie, who loves us three deeply and is desperate to see us hitched and withchild, seemed to treat the whole relationship with a "held-breath" kind of attitude, whispering words like "marriage" and "grandchildren" to anyone who would listen with a hint of hope for the first time.
Naturally, there was a little bit of scepticism over the whole thing at first. Not because Older-Brother-Glyn was horrible to date or disgusting or anything, but because, put simply, it had not been done in our family before.
The months continued and for some miraculous reason, Older-Brother-Glyn and The-Lovely-Amy continued to date. As for the rest of us in the family, we were in unchartered territory. We had not known a relationship to succeed within the confines of our family before (with the exception, of course of Marmie and Father, they have always worked like clockwork). We continued to watch with baited breath as Christmas began to approach in 2012. It was amazing, for the first time it looked as if we would have an actual +1 for the annual Christmas parties with the external family. No longer would we be the pariahs amongst a sea of cousins with loving and doting partners... we might actually have a person to present and say that, somehow, we had managed to finally show we were capable of this form of romantic attachment.
Naturally, you can see that I had decided to claim The-Lovely-Amy as a +1 for the family rather than just for Older-Brother-Glyn. In fairness, there was an air of desperation within that, as part of me assumed that this would be the only one we would get to show.
The way that I am describing this, makes it seem like myself, Older-Brother-Glyn and Younger-Brother-Daniel are trollish looking or the most annoying people to be around or just plain unloveable... I really don't mean that to be the case. And, in fairness, both Older-Brother-Glyn and Younger-Brother-Daniel had been able to actually hold relationships in the past, and were not nearly as hopeless as I appeared to be in that area. However, for whatever reason, none of us had ever been able to make one stick long enough to class the relationship as "serious."
Anywho, that's our curse. And, as I said, Older-Brother-Glyn seemed to have found a way to circumvent that with The-Lovely-Amy.
Needless to say however, that, due to our severe lack of long-term partners, when The-Lovely-Amy seemed to decide she wanted to stick around, our entire family was not quite sure how to behave around it. We hadn't the experience to know what to do. As such, it resulted in Marmie's inclination to mention weddings and marriages on almost every family outing with her and the rest of us to roll our eyes outwardly whilst inwardly crossing our fingers and hoping that something might actually come of it. We were like gossiping school children whenever we spoke to each other, always wanting to know how Older-Brother-Glyn was doing in his relationship and what they had done recently, etc.
And then, about three months ago, Older-Brother-Glyn announced to us that he was intending to pop the question. Thus started one of the longest three months of our lives, all of us secretly glad that we lived far away from the couple as otherwise one of us was sure to slip up and tell her... He gave us a clue of how he was going to do it, mentioning a treasure hunt around London, ending at a mutual friends' house where all friends and family would be waiting for her, secretly.
For the remainder of what had actually happened, I refer you to the below video that I put together of the day. But just so you know, The-Lovely-Amy did say yes... which means that now the entire family are in complete new territory. Trust me, Older-Brother-Glyn was majorly romantic in what he had done... watch the video... he really outdid himself!
Peace out my lovelies.
Older-Brother-Glyn fought off the curse that seemed to have grabbed hold of myself and my siblings. One that has pretty much been our lives for as long as we can remember. You see, it's not just me that has seemed incapable of forming a romantic attachment to another human being, but one that both my brothers have (until recent years) also struggled with. We never knew why we seemed incapable of relationships, but we were all three seemingly without the ability for the majority of our lives.
This is why, when Older-Brother-Glyn announced initially, a year and a half ago, that he was now dating an actual real life human being, we were all a little bit shocked and not quite believing it to be true. Marmie, who loves us three deeply and is desperate to see us hitched and withchild, seemed to treat the whole relationship with a "held-breath" kind of attitude, whispering words like "marriage" and "grandchildren" to anyone who would listen with a hint of hope for the first time.
Naturally, there was a little bit of scepticism over the whole thing at first. Not because Older-Brother-Glyn was horrible to date or disgusting or anything, but because, put simply, it had not been done in our family before.
The months continued and for some miraculous reason, Older-Brother-Glyn and The-Lovely-Amy continued to date. As for the rest of us in the family, we were in unchartered territory. We had not known a relationship to succeed within the confines of our family before (with the exception, of course of Marmie and Father, they have always worked like clockwork). We continued to watch with baited breath as Christmas began to approach in 2012. It was amazing, for the first time it looked as if we would have an actual +1 for the annual Christmas parties with the external family. No longer would we be the pariahs amongst a sea of cousins with loving and doting partners... we might actually have a person to present and say that, somehow, we had managed to finally show we were capable of this form of romantic attachment.
Naturally, you can see that I had decided to claim The-Lovely-Amy as a +1 for the family rather than just for Older-Brother-Glyn. In fairness, there was an air of desperation within that, as part of me assumed that this would be the only one we would get to show.
The way that I am describing this, makes it seem like myself, Older-Brother-Glyn and Younger-Brother-Daniel are trollish looking or the most annoying people to be around or just plain unloveable... I really don't mean that to be the case. And, in fairness, both Older-Brother-Glyn and Younger-Brother-Daniel had been able to actually hold relationships in the past, and were not nearly as hopeless as I appeared to be in that area. However, for whatever reason, none of us had ever been able to make one stick long enough to class the relationship as "serious."
Anywho, that's our curse. And, as I said, Older-Brother-Glyn seemed to have found a way to circumvent that with The-Lovely-Amy.
Needless to say however, that, due to our severe lack of long-term partners, when The-Lovely-Amy seemed to decide she wanted to stick around, our entire family was not quite sure how to behave around it. We hadn't the experience to know what to do. As such, it resulted in Marmie's inclination to mention weddings and marriages on almost every family outing with her and the rest of us to roll our eyes outwardly whilst inwardly crossing our fingers and hoping that something might actually come of it. We were like gossiping school children whenever we spoke to each other, always wanting to know how Older-Brother-Glyn was doing in his relationship and what they had done recently, etc.
And then, about three months ago, Older-Brother-Glyn announced to us that he was intending to pop the question. Thus started one of the longest three months of our lives, all of us secretly glad that we lived far away from the couple as otherwise one of us was sure to slip up and tell her... He gave us a clue of how he was going to do it, mentioning a treasure hunt around London, ending at a mutual friends' house where all friends and family would be waiting for her, secretly.
For the remainder of what had actually happened, I refer you to the below video that I put together of the day. But just so you know, The-Lovely-Amy did say yes... which means that now the entire family are in complete new territory. Trust me, Older-Brother-Glyn was majorly romantic in what he had done... watch the video... he really outdid himself!
Peace out my lovelies.
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