500,000+1 dirty little secrets.
23 December 2012 • blog, Dirty Little Secret, Frank Warren, london, love, my secret, perfect, postsecret, PostSecret.com, secret, The All-American Rejects
Eight years ago, some fella from Maryland named Frank Warren started an art project that would someday become a beautiful worldwide phenomenon. He printed up a couple hundred postcards with his home address on the back and walked the streets of Washington D.C. asking people to write their secrets down on the postcards and send them to him. Some people were reluctant, some intrigued; and now...
PostSecret is the largest advertisement-free blog site in the world, with a visitor count of over 500 million, and for the past eight years Frank has received over half a million secrets, which he keeps in a massive pile in his living room. Frank Warren has been called "the world's most trusted stranger". The rules are: the secret you send in has to be true, and has to be something you've never told anyone before.
This music video contains actual PostSecret secrets, after The All-American Rejects asked Frank if they could use some, and he said yes - providing they make a donation to one of his sponsor charities. This video also contains one secret from each of the band members (and one from a friend of mine, funnily enough).
Eleven year-old Gracie discovered PostSecret in Year 7 while cutting up magazines for her Art project; the girls in class were sat around her table, bitching, giggling and calling her "weird", and upon discovering an article PostSecret, Gracie found a little hope. Thus began years of checking PostSecret.com every Sunday for new secrets, reading the books, and occasionally sending in a secret of my own. So for eight years, PostSecret has been my escape, my confidante and my biggest source of hope. There is nothing quite like letting go of a secret you've been keeping forever, or reading one of your own secrets in someone else's writing, and knowing you're not alone.
Back in October, a PostSecret UK tour was announced. The first time PostSecret has visited the UK in the eight years it has been running. Edinburgh, Birmingham, Brighton, London. I'm lucky enough to have a friend who loves PostSecret and Frank as much as I do, and so we booked tickets for the 17th December show in London (despite having no money).
It was honestly the best £37.50 I have ever spent. We spent the evening at Logan Hall, University of London, sitting just a few rows away from Frank as he talked about his life and his secrets, and the lives and secrets of the millions of strangers he has helped over the years. We learned which secrets are Frank's personal favourites, which have inspired him to start campaigns (he now works with International Suicide Prevention, and gives money to them as well as similar causes)
We saw dozens of people approach the microphone and share their innermost fears, hopes and pains in the form of secrets. There was a woman who had only found out a few hours beforehand that she might not be able to have children, another whose father suffered from depression, and many more horrifying secrets that made me think "I'm could never go through what they're going through", and the occasional heartwarming secret that made me think "wow, life is amazing". There's a lot of beauty in the world, and a whole lot of it was in one room last Monday night.
All I can say is, after eight years of reading and posting, actually being in the audience witnessing some truly magical moments (and scribbling secrets on postcards throughout) was just the most amazing thing. And after the talk, shaking Frank Warren's hand, telling him how much PostSecret has meant to me since I was eleven, taking a photo together and giving him my secret... The feeling was indescribable.
Driving home for Christmas.
22 December 2012 • bored, christmas, family, home, life, love, me, packing, term, uni
My Dad is on his way, driving down the M3 in the rain with the boot of the car already folded down in preparation for the massive bag of stuff I'll be putting in there later. I'm sitting at my desk in my little room, eating leftover food, listening to Christmas music/watching old Vlogbrothers videos, and glancing over at said massive bag, lying empty on my bed.
A psychologist would have a field day with me, to quote one of my old teachers. I don't want to leave, but I absolutely one hundred per cent never-been-so-sure-of-anything do. I want to be home, sitting in front of the fire with my family, all idyllic and sweet. I want to go out and get drunk with my best 'home friends'. I want to watch Elf, and all the Christmas specials on the BBC. I'm so ready, just not in the physical sense as that massive bag is empty and I'm sitting procrastinating almost as much as I do when essay-writing.
It feels good to be writing again. I've been putting off blogging, due to work and a host of personal issues (some of which I'm not even sure I can blog about, which as you can imagine is infuriating for me), and I've missed it terribly. I hate checking my Blogger page and seeing the last post dated almost a week ago. It really is a nightmare. Anyway, I have a few things to write about now, not to mention my annual personal accounts of Christmas Eve/Day and my New Years Resolutions. Bring on the writing!
Now, I'm bidding farewell to my little room. Goodbye, fairy lights. Goodbye, sad bare trees outside. Goodbye, stack of books in the corner which will definitely not fit into even the most massive of bags. Goodbye, 500 Days Of Summer poster. Goodbye, bottles of Malibu and Jack Daniels... Oh no wait, you're coming home with me! See you all in early January; II'll have lots more stuff from Christmas, I'll have learnt ALL my Shakespeare lines, and I'll be big as a house after being fed properly at home.
17.
20 December 2012 • 17, about me, facts, Gracie, me, my life
Hi, my name's Gracie. Winter is my favourite time of year, I have some serious money troubles right now, mint hot chocolate is my new favourite thing, London calls me from time to time, I have a lot of leftover pizza in the fridge, I'm in two Shakespeare productions, my little hometown is always there for me, Soap & Glory is my unhealthiest addiction, hugs from my Mum are a miracle cure, I've given my secrets to Frank Warren, inconsistency is my least favourite thing, I'm a few weeks behind on How I Met Your Mother, my friends from home are inexplicably wonderful, going on long drives is how I deal with things, next year I want to make everything right, CSI is perfect, I try to take breaks from blogging, but I always come running back.
I do one of these posts every month.
I do one of these posts every month.
Needing something.
17 December 2012 • adventure, break, family, home, love, personal, problems, quiet
Last night, I got to my friend's house just as they started making their "house Christmas Dinner". Immediately I felt like I was intruding. They started preparing the food in the kitchen, blasting Christmas songs and singing along; I grabbed my friend's laptop, looked up National Rail and ran out the door. I continued to run downhill to another friend's place, asking her for a lift, stopping at my house for a few little things to throw in my bag (I was in such a hurry I actually forgot my laptop, meaning - spoiler alert - I am typing this on the family computer) before gunning it to the station and jumping on the train just before it left the platform. I dilly-dallied around at Waterloo, bashed my infuriating (and broken) iPod on the wall at Waterloo East, avoided texts from my parents about the Strictly Results show, and eventually got on my Southeastern express (not so much) to my little town. I ran up the hill from Station Approach with two massive bags weighing me down, listening to 'I Missed You' on my broken iPod, and rang the doorbell for number 12. My Dad answered the door and said: "what are you doing here??!"
I've had a lot of problems recently, both professional and personal. Decisions have been made, arguments have been many, fallout has happened and now it's time to relax and be me, in my tiny hometown, more or less internet-less. So for the next week or two I'll be offline (not off the grid entirely, just a quieter presence), only contacting those closest to me if need be, switching off certain people's voices and taking a well-deserved break. I'm hoping the New Year will bring with it a new feeling. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Multiple theatrical identities.
28 November 2012 • acting, actor, auditions, character, Drama, love, play, plays, rehearsals, Shakespeare, theatre, When It Rains Gasoline
So, I am currently rehearsing for the (amazing) (awesome) (insane) play 'When It Rains Gasoline', to be performed this Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Then, Saturday, I start rehearsals for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'.
I'm actually really happy that the rehearsals start so soon after 'Gasoline', because then I don't have too much of a sad post-performance period. It'll be strange going straight from a modern American play to an ancient Shakespeare, but in a good way. Also, at least five other people from 'Gasoline' are going to be in 'Midsummer' with me, so I won't even get a chance to miss working with them. The people I'll miss most, aside from the (amazing) (awesome) (insane) crew working on 'When It Rains Gasoline', are the characters; the jocky boys, the gamer nerds, the quiet insecure "queer", and my cheerleaders. I'll miss them as much as I'll miss the actors who play them.
It sounds like a terribly poncey actor thing to say, but... I love being several different people at once. Especially when those people are so completely different to me.
Alysa, from 'Gasoline', is your classic head cheerleader Queen Bee plastic fantastic beyotch. She calls the other kids losers and dorks, dumps all her boyfriends when she gets bored, ditches one of her best friends when she gets into some trouble, and is constantly encouraging her other bestie to lose her virginity. I love being her, and she's one of those characters that you can never take too far.
Robin Starveling/Moonshine is my role in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. I read Moonshine in the audition, and made everyone giggle with my best "stoopid" voice. "I th' man in th' moon..." I can't wait to see what that character will be like. Despite it being a small role in a massive production, I'm just delighted to be involved, the concept and script is fantastic and I'll be having fun the whole way through.
I auditioned for two musicals this term, to no avail - cementing my belief that while I can act at a push, I am no singer; I can sing in the bathroom or the kitchen, but not onstage. That's fine by me. Singing seems to me like such a vulnerable, intensely personal thing... I hate singing in front of people (if I sing in front of you, be honoured), and I don't know why I decided for even a moment that I could do it onstage. Acting is different; I can have fun and be utterly un-vulnerable, wrapped in the guise of someone else.
Anyway. I used to want to be an actor, before I realised that I had to be a writer. Not as in "they made me do it", as in "I HAD to do it or I'd die". Yet, here I am in two plays. Loving it. And this time Friday night, I'll be saying goodbye to Alysa. This time Saturday night, I'll be Moonshine. C'est la vie.
Photos of the play(s) will be added later! :)
I'm actually really happy that the rehearsals start so soon after 'Gasoline', because then I don't have too much of a sad post-performance period. It'll be strange going straight from a modern American play to an ancient Shakespeare, but in a good way. Also, at least five other people from 'Gasoline' are going to be in 'Midsummer' with me, so I won't even get a chance to miss working with them. The people I'll miss most, aside from the (amazing) (awesome) (insane) crew working on 'When It Rains Gasoline', are the characters; the jocky boys, the gamer nerds, the quiet insecure "queer", and my cheerleaders. I'll miss them as much as I'll miss the actors who play them.
It sounds like a terribly poncey actor thing to say, but... I love being several different people at once. Especially when those people are so completely different to me.
Alysa, from 'Gasoline', is your classic head cheerleader Queen Bee plastic fantastic beyotch. She calls the other kids losers and dorks, dumps all her boyfriends when she gets bored, ditches one of her best friends when she gets into some trouble, and is constantly encouraging her other bestie to lose her virginity. I love being her, and she's one of those characters that you can never take too far.
I auditioned for two musicals this term, to no avail - cementing my belief that while I can act at a push, I am no singer; I can sing in the bathroom or the kitchen, but not onstage. That's fine by me. Singing seems to me like such a vulnerable, intensely personal thing... I hate singing in front of people (if I sing in front of you, be honoured), and I don't know why I decided for even a moment that I could do it onstage. Acting is different; I can have fun and be utterly un-vulnerable, wrapped in the guise of someone else.
Anyway. I used to want to be an actor, before I realised that I had to be a writer. Not as in "they made me do it", as in "I HAD to do it or I'd die". Yet, here I am in two plays. Loving it. And this time Friday night, I'll be saying goodbye to Alysa. This time Saturday night, I'll be Moonshine. C'est la vie.
Photos of the play(s) will be added later! :)
Thankful for...
22 November 2012 • family, friends, happy, life, love, thank you, thankful, thanks, Thanksgiving
Skinny vanilla lattes in Caffe Nero. Completed essays. The blackout blind I have over the window in my bedroom. Radio 1 in the morning. Rimmel Urban Purple nail polish/Barry M silver glitter. How I Met Your Mother. The Uni Student Confessions pages on Facebook. The Forage & Find antique 'n' unique jewellery stall. YouTubers. My fabulous hairdresser. John Green books. PostSecret. Payday. The two-minute silence on Remembrance Day. Carrie Hope Fletcher T-shirts. My cat.
Having food in the cupboards. Getting a part in a fantastic play, and working with some seriously talented people. Being offered two jobs in the same week, and having to turn down two more offers. My inspiring lecturers. People setting me back on my path when I'm lost. Having a magical family who supports me in everything I do. My new life away from home. My Mum texting me every day. My beautiful family in Australia, and being able to visit them so often. The way my little sister writes statuses on Facebook with a million hearts and kisses. Lovely friends, people I can text when I'm feeling down, get tipsy with, order pizza and be irresponsible with. People who read my blog. Opportunities for something better.
Just clowning around.
25 October 2012 • character, clown, clowning, clowns, comedy, crazy, fun, funny, Gracie's uni life, happy, lecture, my life, performance, performing, uni, university
This semester, I'm studying the module 'Popular Performance'; it consists of several weeks' studying of the various types of current performance, specifically comedy including stand up, sketches and... Clowning.
The words 'The Clown' have never seemed so daunting as they did when my friend and I read them on the Learning Network the week before starting lectures. I believe our exact words were: "we have to be clowns?! We have to actually study clowning and BE CLOWNS? Mate, fuck that!" It was terrifying. The thought of having to be deliberately funny in front of a room full of our friends and fellow students (and a select few who dislike us)? Surely that is a reality we'd never willingly face. Yet a week later we found ourselves traipsing along to our first lecture, slightly hungover as per usual and filled with terror...
Clowning is actually unexpectedly awesome. We're looking at Laurel & Hardy, Charlie Chaplin, The Young Ones, Morecambe and Wise, etc., our lecturers are a theatre pro and a former clown (from clown trio Zippo & Co, as we discovered today), and the whole "being funny" thing isn't really that scary. There are all kinds of views on clowns being considered funny, and how they go about being funny; "the comedian tells the joke, the clown IS the joke."
Our lecturer told us "don't try to be funny", which is perfect because I personally feel that the moment people really try to be funny, they're at their least funny - y'know? People never seem to understand when I say: "people are funniest when they're not trying to be." I find my friends most hilarious when we're just sitting around talking. I'll be in hysterics for ages over a comment someone made in a conversation, but I'll watch a comedian for a few hours and mostly I'll just smile... Maybe I'm just strange. But this clowning thing makes sense to me.
This week we had to bring in a jacket (one we "wouldn't normally wear"), a hat and a prop of some kind. I opted for my bestie's tweed jacket, a Fedora that someone randomly chucked at me during BOP a few weeks ago, and a newspaper as my prop. We were given the option to wear a red nose today (the "clown man" lecturer brought two egg boxes full of them) and in duos or trios we worked out a clowning routine. Mine consisted of dropping the newspaper and scattering the pages then reading it upside down, losing my partner's hat when it was actually stuck on my foot, trying to follow dance steps and failing, finding a red nose in my jacket pocket and being so indescribably happy when putting it on... It seemed to go well. Everyone else in my lectures is amazing; we saw two clowns in love, three falling about and injuring one another, two fighting over a newspaper, a duo attempting a dance, and a clown couple leading a tour, among other things. Our lecturer even said at the end of the session: "you're all almost too good. It's surprising. You've set the standard now; I'm really impressed."
After every clown lecture, we've all left with our various bits and bobs of clown paraphernalia stuffed in our bags or in our arms - or if you're me, wearing the jacket and silly hat all the way home. My friend does the same, and I think it's for the same reason - we don't want to say goodbye to our clown characters. My silly, slow, smiley clown chick is so much fun to mess around with, and I hate saying goodbye to her when I leave the studio, so I keep her with me the whole way home.
16.
19 October 2012 • 16, about me, facts, Gracie, me, my life
Hi, my name's Gracie. I live in a beautiful little city, I have two jobs, I'm currently rehearsing for a play, YouTube is my main distraction, dark Chocolate Oranges are my weakness, laundry is the bane of my existence, I've realised auditions aren't that scary, blogging is my occupation of choice, I miss driving, John Green is perfect in my eyes, I'm teaching my housemate to love Gilmore Girls, my little sister is my little rock, I own a hip flask that says 'Girls With Class Don't Need A Glass' on it, I'm going to Australia for the eighth time next year, Ultimate Frisbee is becoming a big part of my life, I have eight jars collecting coins on my windowsill, my shower is extremely temperamental, Carrie Hope Fletcher is teaching me a lot, I'm counting down the days until Christmas, I'm actually busy all the time now, and it's different.
I do one of these posts every month.
Refreshing.
23 September 2012 • drunk, Freshers, friends, Gracie's uni life, happy, my life, nights, nights out, pub, second year, surreal, uni, university
"There's a certain smell in the air this week. It smells... FRESH." - (paraphrase of) every single student's Facebook status at the beginning of this week.
On Monday night, a group of us watched Avengers Assemble. I was walking to and from my friends' place up the hill, and noticing that almost every light in every house along the road was on. One by one, the students are returning and the new'uns are arriving...
Wednesday night, I was walking up the same road in one of my nicest dresses with the lipstick on thick, texting various friends frantically; my best friend wanted to know when I'd be at his house for the party, my friend from home wanted to know what was going on in my love life (what love life?), and most unexpectedly, my ex-boyfriend wanted to know if I was going to be at the SU for BOP. I then texted another best friend saying: "he's at the SU tonight. Find him and you win gold."
Approximately fifteen minutes later I was playing Ring Of Fire on the floor of my friends' living room, halfway to drunk and laughing a little too loudly.
"Hey Grace, did you bring your camera?"
"Of course!" I pulled my hench DSLR out of my bag and was overcome with excitement. I'm a photo fiend; I take photos of predrinks and parties and will often upload them when I get home from the night out/party. There have been many times when my friends have woken up and found photos edited, uploaded and tagged by 8am. I was running around snapping photos of everyone in all their drunken glory, and I genuinely thought "I'm back, baby."
The night then took a turn for the surreal. I ended up picking up the infamous ex-boyfriend from the SU ("oh my gosh, he actually is here at my uni"), taking him to meet my friends (because I left their party early to pick his drunk mess up), then letting him sleep on my sofa (because I was worried about him trekking back to West Downs, my beloved student village, and disgracing himself or dying on the way). Add my best friend into the mix, who not only popped round my house after BOP, but actually met my ex-boyfriend at the urinals in the SU earlier that night (and then called to tell me all about it, subsequently making my head explode), and you have a night Dali would have considered painting but then decided against it because it was just too absurd. Oh, the boys had a whale of a time spooning on my bed swapping stories about my home, my family and my boobs. I found it hard to hear them, luckily, over the loud ticking of the time bomb in my mind.
Thursday night marked my first ever pub-crawling experience; or rather, Pub Golf. Paired up as a Pro and an Amateur, nine pubs/bars being nine holes and a different drink at each, and having a par of how many gulps to down one's drink in. So basically, you want to down your drink in one (hole in one). The drinks included: cider, Jagerbombs, double rum & Coke, shots of Sambuca, an alcopop, wine, Guinness, and Flowerpot Ale.
I lost track between the fifth and eighth pub/bar, but I'm pretty confident that I won. I did think to myself, somewhere between McDonalds, punching my best friend in the face, and lying in the main road next to the army barracks with the Frisbee captain asleep next to me and the coach telling me about the love of his life, and before coming home to pass out (and wake up still drunk the next morning), "I better have won."
Friday night was going to be a "maybe", but became a mandatory. Still drunk from the night before at 3pm, feeling fragile and needing an outing to the park to wake myself up, I intended to go along to predrinks at my friends' down the road and when they all stumbled off to Frisky at Bar3one in town (because we were definitely not paying £10 to see Sam and the Womp at Freshers' Flirt!), I'd sneak off to bed. A few hours later I was wearing one of my nicest dresses, buying drinks with a friend from Twitter who I'd happened to bump into on the way into town, drunk-dialling various unsuspecting friends and grinding with a gay guy while a remixed and sped-up version of 'Blow Me (One Last Kiss)' thumped through the speakers. Oops.
Saturday I spent the whole day at Freshers' Fayre, behind a table or wandering around outside the SU with the Ultimate Frisbee team, recruiting Freshers and spreading the word about "the most fun sport ever". I wish I'd joined a team last year; I intend to make up for my Fresher laziness by being constantly busy and engaged in all sorts this year. By the end of the day, we'd managed to get 200+ people to sign up. Clearly, the Freshers are much cooler this year. I also went a little crazy at the annual gigantic poster sale, and now my little room looks much better.
Freshers' Fortnight is in full swing. Lectures start tomorrow, and while I'm obviously excited to get back into my course, I'm going to miss the freedom I've had over the past few weeks. Being able to wake up at whatever time I fancy, wandering back and forth between my house and friends', watching Friends and Gilmore Girls all day with the housemates and the random expeditions to town to pick up stuff we need - okay, just stuff.
Anyway, it's my second year. Bring it on.
Wednesday night, I was walking up the same road in one of my nicest dresses with the lipstick on thick, texting various friends frantically; my best friend wanted to know when I'd be at his house for the party, my friend from home wanted to know what was going on in my love life (what love life?), and most unexpectedly, my ex-boyfriend wanted to know if I was going to be at the SU for BOP. I then texted another best friend saying: "he's at the SU tonight. Find him and you win gold."
Approximately fifteen minutes later I was playing Ring Of Fire on the floor of my friends' living room, halfway to drunk and laughing a little too loudly.
"Hey Grace, did you bring your camera?"
"Of course!" I pulled my hench DSLR out of my bag and was overcome with excitement. I'm a photo fiend; I take photos of predrinks and parties and will often upload them when I get home from the night out/party. There have been many times when my friends have woken up and found photos edited, uploaded and tagged by 8am. I was running around snapping photos of everyone in all their drunken glory, and I genuinely thought "I'm back, baby."
The night then took a turn for the surreal. I ended up picking up the infamous ex-boyfriend from the SU ("oh my gosh, he actually is here at my uni"), taking him to meet my friends (because I left their party early to pick his drunk mess up), then letting him sleep on my sofa (because I was worried about him trekking back to West Downs, my beloved student village, and disgracing himself or dying on the way). Add my best friend into the mix, who not only popped round my house after BOP, but actually met my ex-boyfriend at the urinals in the SU earlier that night (and then called to tell me all about it, subsequently making my head explode), and you have a night Dali would have considered painting but then decided against it because it was just too absurd. Oh, the boys had a whale of a time spooning on my bed swapping stories about my home, my family and my boobs. I found it hard to hear them, luckily, over the loud ticking of the time bomb in my mind.
Thursday night marked my first ever pub-crawling experience; or rather, Pub Golf. Paired up as a Pro and an Amateur, nine pubs/bars being nine holes and a different drink at each, and having a par of how many gulps to down one's drink in. So basically, you want to down your drink in one (hole in one). The drinks included: cider, Jagerbombs, double rum & Coke, shots of Sambuca, an alcopop, wine, Guinness, and Flowerpot Ale.
I lost track between the fifth and eighth pub/bar, but I'm pretty confident that I won. I did think to myself, somewhere between McDonalds, punching my best friend in the face, and lying in the main road next to the army barracks with the Frisbee captain asleep next to me and the coach telling me about the love of his life, and before coming home to pass out (and wake up still drunk the next morning), "I better have won."
Friday night was going to be a "maybe", but became a mandatory. Still drunk from the night before at 3pm, feeling fragile and needing an outing to the park to wake myself up, I intended to go along to predrinks at my friends' down the road and when they all stumbled off to Frisky at Bar3one in town (because we were definitely not paying £10 to see Sam and the Womp at Freshers' Flirt!), I'd sneak off to bed. A few hours later I was wearing one of my nicest dresses, buying drinks with a friend from Twitter who I'd happened to bump into on the way into town, drunk-dialling various unsuspecting friends and grinding with a gay guy while a remixed and sped-up version of 'Blow Me (One Last Kiss)' thumped through the speakers. Oops.
Saturday I spent the whole day at Freshers' Fayre, behind a table or wandering around outside the SU with the Ultimate Frisbee team, recruiting Freshers and spreading the word about "the most fun sport ever". I wish I'd joined a team last year; I intend to make up for my Fresher laziness by being constantly busy and engaged in all sorts this year. By the end of the day, we'd managed to get 200+ people to sign up. Clearly, the Freshers are much cooler this year. I also went a little crazy at the annual gigantic poster sale, and now my little room looks much better.
Freshers' Fortnight is in full swing. Lectures start tomorrow, and while I'm obviously excited to get back into my course, I'm going to miss the freedom I've had over the past few weeks. Being able to wake up at whatever time I fancy, wandering back and forth between my house and friends', watching Friends and Gilmore Girls all day with the housemates and the random expeditions to town to pick up stuff we need - okay, just stuff.
Anyway, it's my second year. Bring it on.
I'm here. (Again)
7 September 2012 • Gracie's uni life, I'm here, internet, my life, new year, previous post, second year, student, uni, university, Winchester
(Almost) One year on from my post "I'm here", I'm here again. Back in Winchester, my second home that I now refer to as simply "home", the city that's really more like a town, about to start a new year of university. Except this time I'm sitting in the living room of a bright red house in the student estate down the road from campus, rather than in the bedroom in the student village at the top of the hill on campus, and I'm starting my second year instead of my first; I'm a Fresher no more, now I'm ancient and responsible and ready for anything. This is the year when the Real Stuff starts.
I didn't cry when my parents left, although I had a longer-than-necessary hug with my mum and stared at my family photo on my windowsill for a while after unpacking in my teeny little room. I've spent a ridiculous amount of money on food and cooked myself a few meagre meals, I'm carrying myphone iPhone charger with me everywhere as well as a bottle of Archers, I've spent our internet-less days watching Friends and several seasons of Jersey Shore with the new housemates, and painting my nails with my housegirl while gossiping. We've met our landlord, laughed at his cheeky jokes and made him a cup of coffee (black with sugar), made a list for the handyman, done all the boring bank/bills/letting agent stuff, and figured out where the recycling bin is. I've been wandering back and forth between my place and friends' places down the road, up the hill, round the corner and two doors down; I definitely miss being across the street from one another in our little village, but I'll get used to it eventually. Having no internet for a week was surprisingly easy - I barely had any withdrawal symptoms. I've been drunk and disorderly with my favourite people several times already. The bathroom is tiny and the ceiling above the shower has a dangerous slope to it, so I am crouching/leaning while I wash my hair. We've recently found out that the previous tenants of this house sold drugs, were busted by the police, broke everything there was to break, and filmed amateur porn in my housemate's downstairs bedroom (her room had previously been dubbed The Nunnery, but due to this revelation it is now The Sex Dungeon). My mum has sent me my first care parcel, containing keyrings and a fold-out brush. I spent a fortune in Ikea beautifying my room; red heart-shaped fairy lights and scented candles are essential items for a student's bedroom.
I'm currently writing three blog posts at once. It's good to be back.
I didn't cry when my parents left, although I had a longer-than-necessary hug with my mum and stared at my family photo on my windowsill for a while after unpacking in my teeny little room. I've spent a ridiculous amount of money on food and cooked myself a few meagre meals, I'm carrying my
I'm currently writing three blog posts at once. It's good to be back.
Diary of a Festival Virgin.
29 August 2012 • best friends, diary, Festival Virgin, Foo Fighters, friends, love, memories, music, my life, reading, Reading Festival, rock, virgin
Eating red pepper humus sandwiches on the train to Reading. Listening to my 'Fest' playlist and feeling the most immense anticipation mixed with anxiety. I have my backpack on my lap and my tent all packed away in a bag on the seat next to me. Most of the regulars on the train are gawking at me, probably wondering why I'm wearing wellies and denim shorts plus a headband of flowers. The rest of the people on the train are also carrying oversized backpacks and wearing impractical clothing; they nod and smile at me knowingly. We're going the same way, you and I.
My best mate Phil's rather cool vlog about Fest. I guest star.
The next five days are more of a haze than a blur. The sun shines almost constantly, and when it rains it pours - but doesn't dampen the spirit (much). My friends are screaming at me "Grace, you're at a festival!" whenever I complain about the state of my hair or lack of makeup. I'm searching every crowd frantically for a glimpse of friends from home or my ex-boyfriend. I desperately want to be on the Big Screen at the Main Stage. My friends and I loot an abandoned tent nearby to find a loaf of bread, several packets of Snack A Jacks and custard creams, and we shout "guys, we've struck gold!" upon finding a sealed jar of Nutella. We get drunk at noon. I'm so used to the smell of weed that coming across a pocket of fresh air is both alien and unexpected. We ran to the arena in the rain to catch Green Day's secret gig; I stared up at Billy Joe and was suddenly fifteen again. We tried to light a campfire consisting of damp cardboard and Fosters cans. I cried in the arms of my best friend for most of the second night, then was laughing again the next morning. Every single person who walks past while we're mid-conversation gets pointed at and told "this guy knows what I'm talking about!" We spent one afternoon scribbling all over one another's exposed skin with face paint pens and Sharpie. People are constantly coming to our campsite asking if we're selling drugs, or offering us some; "Noss"/laughing gas is wildly popular, we even meet a guy who has 90 canisters in his tent and is giving out freebies. We grab a cheeky five minutes inhaling oxygen for £5 at the Oxygen Bar, to keep our energy up for the Foo Fighters gig. Our crazy drunk friend wears a FREE HUGS shirt and thus it takes us forever to get through the crowds. My bestie and I fall asleep at 9pm, wake up at 11pm and go to the Silent Arena. My moods change on an hourly basis and I'm not sure why; is it the antibiotics, the drinking, the lack of sleep, my Pill, my friends, the sex, the crowds, the music, being away from home? Who knows. I'm terrified of being up on someone's shoulders, but I love the feeling. Talking to random people and finding they're all lovely and friendly (and just as chatty as me) is the nicest and most shocking thing about this festival business. Feeling close to people I've only just met, and even closer to my existing friends, is the best. The toilets are disgusting and as the week progresses I can smell them from across the campsite; I'm not comfortable talking about toilets or bodily functions so I sit and cringe quietly while all my friends do. Everyone is giving up smoking after this weekend. The girl two tents over needs a smack and a reality check - she also needs to stop stealing my friends. I accidentally stole a bottle of Archers from Sainsbury's. I desperately need a shower. Florence Welch is like a real-life fairy, Dave Grohl is insane and Tom Delonge calls himself Thomas. The expression "bantabantabanta" is not going to become a thing. All girls on site seem to be perfectly comfortable showing half their arses all day long; the drinking game Slut Shorts is guaranteed to get you wankered. We said hi to Fearne Cotton and Greg James. I had a shower in Sunningdale. We quote Drake & Josh. I was amazed at how incredible the music was, and how much I enjoyed it, given that the main reason I'd come to Fest was for the social antics and the atmosphere.
My stupid and pointless Reading Festival video.
I'm coming home in filthy clothes, covered in pen scribbles and with a grumbling tummy, immediately watching the Reading highlights on TV, being practically pushed into the shower by my family... This festival virgin has had the best week/weekend ever, and is sad to be back in the real world.
My best mate Phil's rather cool vlog about Fest. I guest star.
The next five days are more of a haze than a blur. The sun shines almost constantly, and when it rains it pours - but doesn't dampen the spirit (much). My friends are screaming at me "Grace, you're at a festival!" whenever I complain about the state of my hair or lack of makeup. I'm searching every crowd frantically for a glimpse of friends from home or my ex-boyfriend. I desperately want to be on the Big Screen at the Main Stage. My friends and I loot an abandoned tent nearby to find a loaf of bread, several packets of Snack A Jacks and custard creams, and we shout "guys, we've struck gold!" upon finding a sealed jar of Nutella. We get drunk at noon. I'm so used to the smell of weed that coming across a pocket of fresh air is both alien and unexpected. We ran to the arena in the rain to catch Green Day's secret gig; I stared up at Billy Joe and was suddenly fifteen again. We tried to light a campfire consisting of damp cardboard and Fosters cans. I cried in the arms of my best friend for most of the second night, then was laughing again the next morning. Every single person who walks past while we're mid-conversation gets pointed at and told "this guy knows what I'm talking about!" We spent one afternoon scribbling all over one another's exposed skin with face paint pens and Sharpie. People are constantly coming to our campsite asking if we're selling drugs, or offering us some; "Noss"/laughing gas is wildly popular, we even meet a guy who has 90 canisters in his tent and is giving out freebies. We grab a cheeky five minutes inhaling oxygen for £5 at the Oxygen Bar, to keep our energy up for the Foo Fighters gig. Our crazy drunk friend wears a FREE HUGS shirt and thus it takes us forever to get through the crowds. My bestie and I fall asleep at 9pm, wake up at 11pm and go to the Silent Arena. My moods change on an hourly basis and I'm not sure why; is it the antibiotics, the drinking, the lack of sleep, my Pill, my friends, the sex, the crowds, the music, being away from home? Who knows. I'm terrified of being up on someone's shoulders, but I love the feeling. Talking to random people and finding they're all lovely and friendly (and just as chatty as me) is the nicest and most shocking thing about this festival business. Feeling close to people I've only just met, and even closer to my existing friends, is the best. The toilets are disgusting and as the week progresses I can smell them from across the campsite; I'm not comfortable talking about toilets or bodily functions so I sit and cringe quietly while all my friends do. Everyone is giving up smoking after this weekend. The girl two tents over needs a smack and a reality check - she also needs to stop stealing my friends. I accidentally stole a bottle of Archers from Sainsbury's. I desperately need a shower. Florence Welch is like a real-life fairy, Dave Grohl is insane and Tom Delonge calls himself Thomas. The expression "bantabantabanta" is not going to become a thing. All girls on site seem to be perfectly comfortable showing half their arses all day long; the drinking game Slut Shorts is guaranteed to get you wankered. We said hi to Fearne Cotton and Greg James. I had a shower in Sunningdale. We quote Drake & Josh. I was amazed at how incredible the music was, and how much I enjoyed it, given that the main reason I'd come to Fest was for the social antics and the atmosphere.
My stupid and pointless Reading Festival video.
I'm coming home in filthy clothes, covered in pen scribbles and with a grumbling tummy, immediately watching the Reading highlights on TV, being practically pushed into the shower by my family... This festival virgin has had the best week/weekend ever, and is sad to be back in the real world.
15.
27 August 2012 • 15, about me, facts, Gracie, me
Hi, my name's Gracie. I've lost my festival virginity, my moods change on an hourly basis, I've been told I talk "softly, but a lot", I've never done drugs, my pen running out of ink is devastating to me, I've finally got into the habit of drinking tea but I still wouldn't say I'm a tea drinker, I fancy Tom Delonge, I'm unbelievably lucky when it counts, I wish on the first star of the night, I'm getting a phone upgrade soon, I have "open all hours" written on my leg and it won't wash off, I save all my train tickets, I like being home, I hate being home, all my friends love my mum, I own an Obey snapback, I've learned how to drive on motorways, I'm making more grown-up decisions recently, my past keeps catching up with me, and I'm not letting it own me.
I do one of these posts every month.
I do one of these posts every month.
Here we go again...
11 August 2012
The suitcase is packed, I've picked out my "airport/plane outfit", I've got my envelope of Euros, my camera is charged, my iPod is updated, I've set up a queue on Tumblr, my overdraft is paid off, I've bought myself three new books and two magazines, the pets are all at their holiday homes, my mum is about to pass out from stress, I'm listening to acoustic guitar music, all my jewellery is in a box, I have bags of sweets and bars of chocolate, my passport photo is as hideous as ever, I've said my goodbyes to my friends, my pets, my house and my car.
It's holiday time.
14.
24 July 2012 • 14, about me, facts, Gracie, me, my life
Hi, my name's Gracie. I am constantly bored, I have nearly a thousand followers on Tumblr, my favourite perfume is Coco Mademoiselle, I am currently making money as a photographer, I write for an online magazine, I get severe Dominos cravings, I could quote Gilmore Girls all day long, I will never wear anything gold, I like my lattes made by JJ, I cannot stand the word "ain't", I have a strange inexplicable grudge against every blonde girl in existence, I'm teaching my mum to love Blink-182, apparently I'm a crazy driver, I believe coincidences are meant to tell us something, I over-think every single thing, I don't know what I'd do without my best friend, I need to go to PostSecret live in London, I make amazing toast, my house next year is painted bright red, my birthday is very important to me, I've been hurt one too many times, but I'm getting better.
I do one of these posts every month.
I do one of these posts every month.
Goal: achieved.
19 June 2012 • 50000 views, goal, happy, new year, omg, thank you, views, writing
On midnight of January 1st 2012, I compiled myself a list of goals for the new year. The usual items were included, such as losing 30lbs and getting a decent grade for my first year at uni, but right at the top of the list (and honestly the one item that I thought was less likely than me losing weight) was reaching 50,000 blog views by 2013.
Well, here I am, on June 19th 2012, just over halfway through the year, and my handy view counter says 50,001. Goodness me.
All I can say is thank you to all of you who read my silly ramblings; I appreciate every single click when I post the link on Twitter or Tumblr, every comment or rating at the end of a post, all the tweets I receive from readers saying all kinds of lovely complimentary things... You have no idea just how much it all means to me. My confidence (with writing, at least) is sky high these days and I have all of you to thank. Thank you thank you thank you. x
Well, here I am, on June 19th 2012, just over halfway through the year, and my handy view counter says 50,001. Goodness me.
All I can say is thank you to all of you who read my silly ramblings; I appreciate every single click when I post the link on Twitter or Tumblr, every comment or rating at the end of a post, all the tweets I receive from readers saying all kinds of lovely complimentary things... You have no idea just how much it all means to me. My confidence (with writing, at least) is sky high these days and I have all of you to thank. Thank you thank you thank you. x
13.
• 13, about me, facts, Gracie, life, love, me
Hi, my name's Gracie. I am buying a pet tortoise soon, I have recently discovered I am a jealous person, I desperately need a job, I believe life is much better when you have purple hair, I can be swooning one minute and bitching the next, when I'm upset I delete annoying people off my Facebook, the movie Donnie Darko repeatedly blows my mind, I have had car sex, it's my birthday in 43 days, I could watch the musical Wicked a million times, I make excellent nachos, my dream is to have someone write a song about me, I love the idea of working out but in reality I am too lazy to even get in my car and drive up the road to my gym, I am romantically attached to my SLR camera, every day I become more and more like my mum, I hate writer's block more than anything in the world, I love anything retro, I let the littlest things upset me, I am at home for the summer, and I'm completely lost.
I do one of these posts every month.
I do one of these posts every month.
12.
20 May 2012 • 12, about me, facts, Gracie, I, me, my life
Hi, my name's Gracie. I am a bro not a hoe, I hate people seeing me cry, vodka is not my friend, I never back down from an argument, I get on better with boys than I do girls, I love creating photo walls, Joshua Radin has tweeted me, I have absolutely no idea what to do with my hair, the only GCSE grade that I remember is my A* in Art, I can tell when a girl is "faking it", I have never met anyone who looks like me, I get jealous over the stupidest things, I use the internet as a place to vent and be myself, I miss acting and doing plays, I get more excited about my birthday than a 7 year-old would, I sleep in until 2pm every day, tell me you like Gilmore Girls and we will be best friends, I spend too much time on Tumblr nowadays, if I have no plans for the night I will get changed into my pyjamas at 5pm, I constantly worry that people find me annoying, I love "how we met" stories, I have finished my first year of university, and I'm nervous about going home.
I do one of these posts every month.
I do one of these posts every month.
To the future...
14 May 2012 • career, family, five years time, future, growing up, job, life, marriage, plans, terrifying, the future, travel
The questions "what do you want to be when you grow up?", "what are you going to do with your life?" and "where do you see yourself in five years?" are nothing short of terrifying. For a very long time I have avoided answering friends, relatives, teachers and strangers when they ask me any of the above. I eventually reached the point where I was so exasperated and so tired of constantly hearing these dreaded questions at parties, parents evenings or family gatherings that I began saying a very polite yet vague "I'm not sure yet, I have several options and I'm just taking my time to decide". However, occasionally I would utter a much less polite and a far more true response: "I honestly have no idea".
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I have gone through all the usual phases concerning future careers: when I was three I was determined to be an artist, by the time I turned seven I was dead set on being an author, at ten I was researching careers involving world travel, and throughout my teen years I was certain I wanted to be an actor. Now, at eighteen, I'm more sure than ever: I want to be a writer. I want to be paid to write a blog, contribute to a magazine or newspaper, maybe publish a book. I realised this for the first time while I was packing up my bedroom before starting university; I found myself with a whole Ikea storage crate containing only notebooks, all of which were full of short stories, articles, character descriptions, lists, diary entries... I knew this was what I wanted, and it was what I'd wanted all along. Very handy that I'm studying Creative Writing at university then, really.
What are you going to do with your life?
I have a three-page Bucket List consisting of items both simple and challenging, all waiting to be crossed off. The list grows at an alarming rate as I realise all kinds of new and crazy things I have yet to do. These things include: living in Australia for six months or more, getting a tattoo, meeting Joshua Radin, having a Vegas wedding, and being on Strictly Come Dancing. I plan on running away to Australia right after I finish university, and worrying about silly things such as getting a job later on. Ultimately, I'm sure I'll end up married with some adorable children and living in a house with a massive garden, because that's always seemed like a given. From a very young age I was taught that everyone grows up, gets married and has children. That's "normal". I am one of those annoying unoriginal idiots who jokes about growing old in a house full of cats, when really I quite like the idea of being married and having a family one day. After all my crazy adventures, of course.
Where do you see yourself in five years?In five years I will be twenty-three, nearly twenty-four... Nowhere near old enough to be settled and serious. I will want to be out of my little hometown by this point, definitely. I like to think I'll be travelling still; maybe working one year and travelling the next, maybe living in some big city spending my days exploring and chasing opportunities, and my nights meeting new people and going a bit mad.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I have gone through all the usual phases concerning future careers: when I was three I was determined to be an artist, by the time I turned seven I was dead set on being an author, at ten I was researching careers involving world travel, and throughout my teen years I was certain I wanted to be an actor. Now, at eighteen, I'm more sure than ever: I want to be a writer. I want to be paid to write a blog, contribute to a magazine or newspaper, maybe publish a book. I realised this for the first time while I was packing up my bedroom before starting university; I found myself with a whole Ikea storage crate containing only notebooks, all of which were full of short stories, articles, character descriptions, lists, diary entries... I knew this was what I wanted, and it was what I'd wanted all along. Very handy that I'm studying Creative Writing at university then, really.
What are you going to do with your life?
I have a three-page Bucket List consisting of items both simple and challenging, all waiting to be crossed off. The list grows at an alarming rate as I realise all kinds of new and crazy things I have yet to do. These things include: living in Australia for six months or more, getting a tattoo, meeting Joshua Radin, having a Vegas wedding, and being on Strictly Come Dancing. I plan on running away to Australia right after I finish university, and worrying about silly things such as getting a job later on. Ultimately, I'm sure I'll end up married with some adorable children and living in a house with a massive garden, because that's always seemed like a given. From a very young age I was taught that everyone grows up, gets married and has children. That's "normal". I am one of those annoying unoriginal idiots who jokes about growing old in a house full of cats, when really I quite like the idea of being married and having a family one day. After all my crazy adventures, of course.
Where do you see yourself in five years?In five years I will be twenty-three, nearly twenty-four... Nowhere near old enough to be settled and serious. I will want to be out of my little hometown by this point, definitely. I like to think I'll be travelling still; maybe working one year and travelling the next, maybe living in some big city spending my days exploring and chasing opportunities, and my nights meeting new people and going a bit mad.
The future is seeming less and less scary by the day. I mean, once you've moved away from home, and started looking after yourself, cooking your own food and deciding your own bedtime, the rest seems simple enough.
Stay tuned for when I will inevitably be proven wrong.
Oh, Joshua.
7 May 2012 • beautiful, Brighton, bucket list, concert, favourite, gig, Joshua, joshua radin, live, london, love, music, musician, Simple Times, The Rock And The Tide, We Were Here, winter
My favourite singer, and possibly favourite person, in the world is Joshua Radin. He is a gorgeous Ohio native with a love for creativity, classic guitars and whiskey, in possession of a voice so heartbreakingly beautiful that it knocks girls off their feet and leaves a room still. His hushed and spellbinding singing voice draws you in, blocking out everything else around you, sends you to a peaceful place and makes you believe in love again. What's more, his undeniable and striking good looks, charming demeanour and endearing self-deprecation almost bring you to your knees.
Your name is the splinter inside me, while I wait...
Joshua came into my life when I was in a dark place (it's so cliché, it can only be true), and his first album 'We Were Here' is what kick-started my obsession with love and the power and importance of memories. His song 'Winter' brought tears to my eyes the very first time I heard it, and after seeing him play it live (twice), I don't think anything will ever compare to it. I would play the whole album through my headphones at night to send me off to sleep, and dream of a magical happiness that had once seemed unattainable; these songs gave me hope that someday I'd have everything I ever wanted. I have a friend who has a lyric from his song 'Today' tattooed on her shoulder (I sat beside you and became myself); this song was also Ellen Degeneres' wedding song. I have never been one of those girls who plans her wedding day from age four, but when I was younger I knew just one detail about my perfect wedding: Joshua would be there, singing me down the aisle (that is, if I wasn't marrying him). Some girls dreamt of going on a date with Zac Efron or kissing Justin Timberlake... I wanted to marry Joshua Radin.
All the gold dust in her eyes won't reform into rain.
Joshua's second album, 'Simple Times', coincided conveniently with a schoolgirl crush. This was a time when I was extremely possessive over my favourite musicians; I wouldn't let my family or friends hear what I was listening to or let them borrow any of my CDs, but I shared my love for Joshua with this boy, and bought him the second album for his birthday. When things didn't work out (relationships don't last long when you're fourteen), I was perfectly content sitting in my bedroom writing one of my millions of stories and listening to 'No Envy, No Fear'. I remember the first time I heard the original version of 'I'd Rather Be With You' (the song he seems to be most famous for nowadays), and thinking that this song could change my life. The rare and simple beauty that was the song 'Sky' roused me from a state of emotional sleep. One of my friends wrote lyrics from 'Friend Like You' in my diary one day, and I couldn't stop smiling.
If you had three, you'd give me two; there ain't no other friend like you.
The album 'Simple Times' came out in the UK almost two years after I ordered it online, and before long Joshua announced tour dates in the Spring of 2010. I jumped up and down with excitement and joy, and ordered two tickets without hesitation. I went to see him on a Tuesday night in Brighton with my then-boyfriend, and it was one of the most magical nights of my life. Bless my boyfriend, he spent the week leading up to the gig listening to only Radin songs and putting up with my fangirl squeals and excited chatter. Standing at the front of the crowd at the Concorde 2 club below Brighton Pier, looking up at my true love in his ragged white T-shirt and black jeans, hearing the songs I loved most in the world is not something I am likely to forget in this lifetime. Joshua was the epitome of chill throughout the gig, stopping between songs to have a cheeky whisky and chat to the crowd in that luscious deep voice of his about his songs and his love for the UK, and thanking the crowd for "just listening".
'Unlike many artists, Radin has always talked to his audiences and so the idea of having a pointed forum to do that is a liberating idea. “I like that kind of thing because, I don’t know how people do the whole Lady Gaga or Ziggy Stardust thing. I don’t get how people become a character on stage. It’s just too much work for me — trying to keep up a veil of a character,” Radin said. “People ask me questions on stage all of the time, and I love having that conversation with people and breaking down that fourth wall.”' - http://marqueemag.com/2012/01/01/joshua-radin-set-to-record-new-album-of-back-porch-music-in-2012/
There was also a heart-stopping moment that night when he and I locked eyes and he smiled at me...
'Unlike many artists, Radin has always talked to his audiences and so the idea of having a pointed forum to do that is a liberating idea. “I like that kind of thing because, I don’t know how people do the whole Lady Gaga or Ziggy Stardust thing. I don’t get how people become a character on stage. It’s just too much work for me — trying to keep up a veil of a character,” Radin said. “People ask me questions on stage all of the time, and I love having that conversation with people and breaking down that fourth wall.”' - http://marqueemag.com/2012/01/01/joshua-radin-set-to-record-new-album-of-back-porch-music-in-2012/
There was also a heart-stopping moment that night when he and I locked eyes and he smiled at me...
Only the heartaches have given me sight.
My Dad went on a business trip to New York in late 2010, and brought back a surprise for me: Joshua's third album, 'The Rock And The Tide', not due to be released in the UK until August 1st 2011 (as fate would have it, my birthday). I was late to college that day because I was importing the album into my iTunes library immediately. I was listening to it non-stop for months, and also hopefully anticipating the release of 2011 UK tour dates. Sure enough, in October 2011 I was on my way to Shepherd's Bush, London, to see him once again. Before the show he tweeted to ask if anyone had any requests for him to play; I requested an unreleased favourite of mine, 'Lovely Tonight', a song that gives me hope and reminds me of love lost, adding "btw, I love you" onto the end of my tweet. I received an email minutes later to let me know that Joshua Radin was following me on Twitter. I told myself to keep calm, then, after about a minute, started squealing.
Sun shines in the eyes of those who know how to leave the past behind.
At his gig in Shepherd's Bush, he announced that he was currently working on a new album (cue screams), a more acoustic-orientated record, of course personally penned like all of his music. All I have heard of it thus far is the song 'Where You Belong'; already I am in love again. And now I am, obviously, eagerly awaiting the release of the album and 2012 UK tour dates. So far he has confirmed US dates and venues, and France, Spain and Italy. Every day I am refreshing online music events pages, checking my emails and his Twitter page (I also need to find someone to come with me to see him live this year, so let me know).
All this time I've been following life to the letter but, that ain't the way to go.
When I come back to my hometown for weekends or for the holidays, I have a ritual of listening to 'I Missed You' on the train. This happy song makes me think of home and all the people I have missed the most; recently, with my love for uni growing more day by day, I have started listening to the song on the way back from my hometown.
I'm coming home, just to let you know... That I missed you.
Two items at the top of my Bucket List are "see Joshua Radin live more than five times", and "meet Joshua Radin". I have no idea what I'd say to Joshua if I were to meet him, I'd probably ramble away about how he is my dream and how his music has changed my life for the better... Surely he's used to that by now. I'd love nothing more than to just sit at the bar and drink whiskey with Joshua Radin, talking about love, travelling the world, old-school music and Ohio.
Thank you, Joshua. I'll see you soon. x
Thank you, Joshua. I'll see you soon. x
"You've Changed" II: The University Effect.
30 April 2012 • before, change, changed, changes, friends, Gracie's uni life, life, love, never, new life, sex, uni, university, you've changed
It struck me tonight, as I was singing Nicki Minaj's classic Super Bass on karaoke, and then later as I walked through my student village in pyjamas and bare feet, that since coming to university not only has my life changed (for the better), but also I have done a great deal of things that I never thought I would do.
McFlying in London.
22 April 2012 • Danny Jones, Dougie Poynter, Galaxy Defender, Hammersmith Apollo, Harry Judd, Keep Calm and Play Louder, live, london, McFly, music, Tom Fletcher, tour
21/04/2012.
I am a fully-fledged Galaxy Defender. I dragged my little sister along to the show, who is a more recent fan after seeing Just My Luck and following Harry Judd on Strictly Come Dancing 2011, and spent the two weeks leading up to the show educating her in all things McFly. We downloaded songs, first those included in the setlist and then eventually every other song from every other album ever. So when the day of the show came around, we were word-perfect and ready to go crazy.
We stood in the stalls frantically checking Tom Fletcher's Twitter updates, wondering how McFly would make their entrance and speculating as to what the boys were doing right now... After playing a series of cheesy 80s/90s tunes through the speakers, including the YMCA (which true fans will know is the song they always play right before they come onstage) the beautiful boys came out at last. They played their first three songs without stopping; Nowhere Left To Run (amazing opener!), One For The Radio, and Star Girl. The girls all around me were going wild; some of them were wearing tour T-shirts from the Noughties, and some had even painted little stars on their faces. Everyone wants to be Tom's Star Girl, myself included.
I thought to myself several times as I watched them, it's hard to believe that these are the same skinny lads with ironed hair who just 9 years ago were gracing my television and radio every day with their pretty, poppy music and cheeky ways. Now, Danny is far (for lack of a better word) hunkier, and seems taller somehow. Harry is mullet-less, chiseled and strides about the stage like a gorgeous caged animal, that is when he's allowed out from behind his drum kit. Tom has undergone the most drastic transformation, having lost all his trademark puppy fat to reveal a genuinely beautiful face and enviably toned body. Dougie, thank goodness, is still Dougie, looking gorgeously scruffy and being teased by the other guys for being "the slow one".
Dougie shouts "are you ready to have a bitchin' good time?" into his microphone, Tom does a naughty bum-wiggle when singing the lyrics "I fell in love with Uranus", Danny licks his microphone stand and flirts with the fans in the front row, Harry flexes and poses between solos. The boys have grown up, but not too much. And bless them for it.
I have always thought of Tom Fletcher as the lead singer of McFly, although over the years he and Danny have shared the spotlight equally. However, last night Danny Jones established himself as a contender for lead singer. His voice rang out with a rich throaty quality, and his range had me floored. One of the highlights of the night for me was the medley of Living On A Prayer / We Found Love / What Makes You Beautiful / Somebody That I Used To Know / I Wanna Dance With Somebody... Danny drove the audience insane.
It's no secret that my favourite member of McFly is Harry Judd. Ever since the beginning, Danny and Harry have fought for my affections, while Dougie was somewhat overlooked (also, my best friend had dibs'd him) and Tom seemed like my ideal husband personality-wise but put me off with his bleached hair. Harry won over my entire family last year as we all sat down every Saturday night to watch Strictly Come Dancing, and we may have jumped off the sofa and done a lot of screaming and crying when he won. So when the McFly lads walked onstage last night, it was Harry who I was screaming for. His drumming was pretty incredible, too.
Say what you will about McFly (the most common reaction to telling my friends I was going to see them live was: "what are you, fourteen?!"), the boys know how to put on a good show. They put everything they've got into their performance, and then some. There was real heart in their voices, and you could see the pure joy they felt while playing onstage. Tom was spinning around and headbanging while playing guitar, Danny did the classic rock 'n' roll playing guitar behind his head move... One of my pet peeves is artists being way too "celebrity" and shouting "hello London!", "this song is dedicated to each and every one of you!" or "you all look so beautiful!" in between songs. I find it a little too much, too cocky... But when it's Danny Jones, somehow I don't mind so much.
Another lovely touch was the amount of audience participation involved; every now and again the lights on the audience would come up and Danny or Tom would tell us they needed our help singing, and the Galaxy Defenders were more than happy to oblige. We sang the entire chorus of Obviously, clapped along to Everybody Knows, and held our hands up and jumped while they performed their new song Do What You Want (Danny Jones holding up his hands and singing "do what you want, do what you want to me"... The sixteen year-old girl inside me was very happy).
I also loved their sudden mood change halfway through the show, effortlessly moving away from electric guitar rock and into chilled acoustic loveliness. "This is the intimate section," Danny whispered, shushing the audience. They played No Worries, a personal favourite of mine originally intended to be a B-side single, recommended to me several weeks before the show by a fellow fangirl and friend who also sent me the setlist. The song is sweet and was beautifully sung, each lyric melting the hearts of every girl in the room.The show ended with Five Colours In Her Hair, of course, to the delight of the crowd. They then performed an encore; Walk In The Sun, sung only by Danny accompanied by a guitar, and then Shine A Light, another crowd favourite.
The outstanding songs were broken up by banter between the boys. The four McFly lads communicate with such ease, throwing cheeky barbs at one another and providing plenty of laughs. Dougie explained to us all that Tom must now be referred to as Teabag, Danny declared Harry a Dancing Queen, and Dougie had himself re-crowned onstage as King of the Jungle. They ended the show with a series of thank yous; to those who voted for both Harry and Dougie on Strictly and I'm A Celebrity, to Tom's Twitter followers for wishing his cat better, and to everyone who has been with the band for the past nine years ("that's me, Danny! That's me!").
The boys' friendship is really what makes the band so special, and it is glaringly apparent both onstage and off. I also feel as though I know each of them personally, as I follow/stalk them all on Twitter. It's that personal touch, the love they have for their fans, and their undeniable musical talent, that makes McFly so special. To me, and to Galaxy Defenders everywhere.
Last night I revisited my pre- and early teen years by going to see McFly live at their penultimate show on their Keep Calm and Play Louder tour at the HMV Hammersmith Apollo, London.
I am a fully-fledged Galaxy Defender. I dragged my little sister along to the show, who is a more recent fan after seeing Just My Luck and following Harry Judd on Strictly Come Dancing 2011, and spent the two weeks leading up to the show educating her in all things McFly. We downloaded songs, first those included in the setlist and then eventually every other song from every other album ever. So when the day of the show came around, we were word-perfect and ready to go crazy.
I thought to myself several times as I watched them, it's hard to believe that these are the same skinny lads with ironed hair who just 9 years ago were gracing my television and radio every day with their pretty, poppy music and cheeky ways. Now, Danny is far (for lack of a better word) hunkier, and seems taller somehow. Harry is mullet-less, chiseled and strides about the stage like a gorgeous caged animal, that is when he's allowed out from behind his drum kit. Tom has undergone the most drastic transformation, having lost all his trademark puppy fat to reveal a genuinely beautiful face and enviably toned body. Dougie, thank goodness, is still Dougie, looking gorgeously scruffy and being teased by the other guys for being "the slow one".
Dougie shouts "are you ready to have a bitchin' good time?" into his microphone, Tom does a naughty bum-wiggle when singing the lyrics "I fell in love with Uranus", Danny licks his microphone stand and flirts with the fans in the front row, Harry flexes and poses between solos. The boys have grown up, but not too much. And bless them for it.
I have always thought of Tom Fletcher as the lead singer of McFly, although over the years he and Danny have shared the spotlight equally. However, last night Danny Jones established himself as a contender for lead singer. His voice rang out with a rich throaty quality, and his range had me floored. One of the highlights of the night for me was the medley of Living On A Prayer / We Found Love / What Makes You Beautiful / Somebody That I Used To Know / I Wanna Dance With Somebody... Danny drove the audience insane.
It's no secret that my favourite member of McFly is Harry Judd. Ever since the beginning, Danny and Harry have fought for my affections, while Dougie was somewhat overlooked (also, my best friend had dibs'd him) and Tom seemed like my ideal husband personality-wise but put me off with his bleached hair. Harry won over my entire family last year as we all sat down every Saturday night to watch Strictly Come Dancing, and we may have jumped off the sofa and done a lot of screaming and crying when he won. So when the McFly lads walked onstage last night, it was Harry who I was screaming for. His drumming was pretty incredible, too.
Say what you will about McFly (the most common reaction to telling my friends I was going to see them live was: "what are you, fourteen?!"), the boys know how to put on a good show. They put everything they've got into their performance, and then some. There was real heart in their voices, and you could see the pure joy they felt while playing onstage. Tom was spinning around and headbanging while playing guitar, Danny did the classic rock 'n' roll playing guitar behind his head move... One of my pet peeves is artists being way too "celebrity" and shouting "hello London!", "this song is dedicated to each and every one of you!" or "you all look so beautiful!" in between songs. I find it a little too much, too cocky... But when it's Danny Jones, somehow I don't mind so much.
Another lovely touch was the amount of audience participation involved; every now and again the lights on the audience would come up and Danny or Tom would tell us they needed our help singing, and the Galaxy Defenders were more than happy to oblige. We sang the entire chorus of Obviously, clapped along to Everybody Knows, and held our hands up and jumped while they performed their new song Do What You Want (Danny Jones holding up his hands and singing "do what you want, do what you want to me"... The sixteen year-old girl inside me was very happy).
I also loved their sudden mood change halfway through the show, effortlessly moving away from electric guitar rock and into chilled acoustic loveliness. "This is the intimate section," Danny whispered, shushing the audience. They played No Worries, a personal favourite of mine originally intended to be a B-side single, recommended to me several weeks before the show by a fellow fangirl and friend who also sent me the setlist. The song is sweet and was beautifully sung, each lyric melting the hearts of every girl in the room.The show ended with Five Colours In Her Hair, of course, to the delight of the crowd. They then performed an encore; Walk In The Sun, sung only by Danny accompanied by a guitar, and then Shine A Light, another crowd favourite.
The outstanding songs were broken up by banter between the boys. The four McFly lads communicate with such ease, throwing cheeky barbs at one another and providing plenty of laughs. Dougie explained to us all that Tom must now be referred to as Teabag, Danny declared Harry a Dancing Queen, and Dougie had himself re-crowned onstage as King of the Jungle. They ended the show with a series of thank yous; to those who voted for both Harry and Dougie on Strictly and I'm A Celebrity, to Tom's Twitter followers for wishing his cat better, and to everyone who has been with the band for the past nine years ("that's me, Danny! That's me!").
The boys' friendship is really what makes the band so special, and it is glaringly apparent both onstage and off. I also feel as though I know each of them personally, as I follow/stalk them all on Twitter. It's that personal touch, the love they have for their fans, and their undeniable musical talent, that makes McFly so special. To me, and to Galaxy Defenders everywhere.
11.
• 11, about me, Gracie, life, me, university
Hi, my name's Gracie. My pre-drink of choice is Palm Beach, I am borderline obsessed with The Hunger Games, the Durex adverts make me giggle, I fancy Plan B, my hair is plum purple, I'm at home for Easter and missing university more than I expected, I am constantly going back and forth between nose ring and nose stud, I might be a jealous person, a guy who can sing is always welcome in my bed, a cup of tea always makes me super-chilled and slightly spaced out, I write long love letters in my spare time, most of my friends are convinced I'm a lesbian, Irish and Australian accents make me melt, I can only ever have skimmed milk, if you've never seen The Princess Bride then we simply cannot be friends, I'm not a normal girl, and I'm okay with that.
I do one of these posts every month. x
I do one of these posts every month. x
Growing up through conversation.
10 April 2012 • big school, college, conversation, friendship, life, old friends, primary school, secondary school, talking, university
Last night, I was reunited with my best friend from primary school. We spent the evening eating apple pie, drinking Screwdrivers, watching The Boat That Rocked, and talking.
I couldn't help but notice that over the years, our conversations have changed and evolved as we've changed and evolved. Once upon a time, we were sitting on the Lower Juniors playground watching the cool kids play football on the field and writing our names in chalk on the hopscotch grid, talking about how nasty the skinny blonde girls were to us.
We'd spend our weekends delving into the fancy dress hamper, baking Fimo animals in the oven, playing Digimon on the Playstation 1, setting up Playmobil worlds and talking about how we never wanted to grow up. A few short years later we were reading Harry Potter, watching Monty Python, practicing kissing on marshmallows, listening to The Goon Show and talking about how badly we wanted to grow up.
Before long we were at "big school", wearing ties and blazers, having sleepovers, dyeing our hair and talking about the cute boys in our classes.
Then suddenly, we were both at separate colleges and meeting up maybe once in a blue moon. One of the precious few times we actually got to see each other, we sat on a bench in the middle of town talking about old times for about five minutes before moving on to talk about losing our virginities. This was the first time we'd talked seriously about such personal things, and over the following years this personal talk became habitual. We saw each other maybe one more time before leaving college and moving on to university. We spent a whole day playing the Sims 2, playing each other new music we'd recently discovered, and talking about relationships.
For the time between September and last night, we had an exclusively Facebook relationship, if that... It consisted of seeing each others' updates and photos, maybe commenting on the occasional post. It's always a shame when friendships are reduced to this, especially with someone you were once so close to, someone you grew up with. So when I had the chance to meet up with her in person last night, of course I said yes.
Our conversations last night were definitely the most evolved and personal yet, and also the best. Actually, second best to our conversations about Lord of the Rings when we were nine years old... We discussed university, our work, plans for next year... And sex. We clinked our glasses "to fuck buddies!" and inquired as to each others' "magic numbers". (I can honestly tell you that there is nothing more trippy than learning that your sweet, innocent and naive friend from primary school has slept with exactly twice as many people as you). Then we drank some more and talked some more, and I wondered to myself what we'll be talking about in a few years' time.
Summer in Spring.
28 March 2012 • barbecue, Brits, cider, happy, ice cream, March, spring, summer, summery, sunshine, university
I adore the Brits. We are an exceptional breed of human who catch the tiniest glimmer of sunlight and dust off the surf shorts, don last year's shades and smother ourselves in sun cream, flock to the fields and beaches with picnic blankets, disposable barbecues and ice boxes, then sit for hours marveling at how warm it is and saying "this is the life", "happy days", and "I feel so summery..."
I'm half-Australian, so I tend to watch all this happen around me and giggle. I'm not going to pretend that I don't occasionally conform to this national stereotype, however. Today I found myself wearing a little summer dress, lying out on the grass in my student village, cooking my Linda McCartney sausages on the disposable barbecue, chatting with friends and enjoying this beautiful summer's day (in March). I forgot all about my essays and portfolio that are due in next week. I bought a bottle of cider from the village shop, and later on I treated myself to a Mint Feast ice cream. My friends and I compared legs, ranging from milky white to scorched bronze. We passed sun cream around, played old summer songs through speakers, and talked about our holiday plans.
A perfect day at university. And tonight, guess what? We're getting drunk.
I'm half-Australian, so I tend to watch all this happen around me and giggle. I'm not going to pretend that I don't occasionally conform to this national stereotype, however. Today I found myself wearing a little summer dress, lying out on the grass in my student village, cooking my Linda McCartney sausages on the disposable barbecue, chatting with friends and enjoying this beautiful summer's day (in March). I forgot all about my essays and portfolio that are due in next week. I bought a bottle of cider from the village shop, and later on I treated myself to a Mint Feast ice cream. My friends and I compared legs, ranging from milky white to scorched bronze. We passed sun cream around, played old summer songs through speakers, and talked about our holiday plans.
A perfect day at university. And tonight, guess what? We're getting drunk.
10.
22 March 2012 • 10, about me, facts, Gracie, life, me
Hi, my name's Gracie. I love fancy dress more than any child ever could, Benefit makeup is my most expensive addiction, I can quote every single line from every single episode of Friends, I am apparently a very noisy flatmate, when I grow up I want to be Ellen Degeneres, I'm an amateur Tumblrer, sleep is very important to me, I make a beautiful vegetable and bean chilli, my mum is my best friend, I hate being let down, Joshua Radin is my perfect man, I sing when I'm truly happy, I'm a cat person, my thirteen year-old sister is taller than me, I have nine piercings, I want to hang out with Jason Segel, sexist jokes make me laugh, Cheerios are my ideal snack, I'm loving university, I've changed a lot in the past year, and I try not to miss who I used to be.
I do one of these posts every month. x
I do one of these posts every month. x
Did you know I write? (II)
12 February 2012 • creative writing, musical, review, Spring Awakening, university, Winchester
Spring has awakened. And we’re totally
fucked.
I take my seat in the University
of Winchester Performance Gym, ready to watch the student production of the musical
Spring Awakening. I am not entirely sure what to expect from today; all I have
heard from cast and audience members is that the musical is controversial,
hilarious, harrowing and delightfully rude.
I’m having fun reading through
the actors’ profiles in the programme, giggling at one or two unfortunate
pictures, and being utterly entranced by the production photos. I think to
myself, for the first of many times today, that this is not just an amateur
student production – this is a thoroughly professional show.
The audience consists mainly of students. Apparently, this is not a show to invite parents to. However, there are a few brave adult faces scattered throughout the audience, mentally steeling themselves no doubt.
The audience consists mainly of students. Apparently, this is not a show to invite parents to. However, there are a few brave adult faces scattered throughout the audience, mentally steeling themselves no doubt.
The set looks simple, yet
powerful and enigmatic. A lone chair stands onstage, a metal scaffold structure
looms at the back of the stage, and the whole set is bathed in red light. The
audience is buzzing; I hear snippets of conversation, giggles and whispers
about the promise of nakedness and lewd behaviour yet to come.
By the interval, I am nearly
breathless. The prop placement and scene changes are slick, the actors’
American accents are clear and believable, however at times the occasional word
sounds slightly Irish. Every movement onstage is clean and deliberate, all the
actors have flair and have clearly rehearsed and polished every little movement
they make or posture they assume.
The character of Moritz, played
by Jordan Lowdell-Hoyte, was a personal favourite of mine. While the character
could easily be played as simply the leading male’s best friend, Jordan managed
to establish himself alongside such strong leads and make the audience fall
slightly in love with his sweet and well-meaning character, unfortunately
mistaken by many as a “hapless moron”. My only criticism is not of him, but of
the casting directors (or possibly even the scriptwriters) – he deserved more
solos. His voice is smooth yet punchy; he reminds me of a passionate rock star,
especially during the song “Don’t Do Sadness”. I felt genuinely heartbroken watching
his character meet his terrible fate, and during the funeral scene I had a tear
in my eye.
Ryan Grimshaw is totally
convincing as the snide and cunning Hanschen. He is hilarious, dramatic and
sinister in his portrayal, and the much-anticipated scene in which he frolics
with himself onstage is worryingly realistic yet also brilliantly exaggerated. If
I did not know Ryan to be lovely, sweet and cheeky offstage, I would definitely
believe him to be a real-life Hanschen.
I was also incredibly moved by the musical number “The Dark I Know Well”, sung by Ruby Field (Martha) and Shannon Harris (Ilse). The song was beautifully sung and perfectly devastating; there is a revelation during the song that these two young girls had both been sexually abused by their fathers.
I was also incredibly moved by the musical number “The Dark I Know Well”, sung by Ruby Field (Martha) and Shannon Harris (Ilse). The song was beautifully sung and perfectly devastating; there is a revelation during the song that these two young girls had both been sexually abused by their fathers.
Wendla, played by Rosie
Sommerville, was innocent and charming. Her voice was stunning, and I found
myself drawn in during her performance in “Those You’ve Known”; her voice was
crystal clear and her pitch was flawless. I liked her character, although at
times it was difficult to as I was blinded by jealousy during her scenes with the
charismatic Melchior (Paul Budgen)...
Usually in a musical production
the chorus consists of talented performers who weren’t quite up to the standard
to be granted a leading role. In this performance of Spring Awakening, however,
this was not the case. The Chorus (Jennifer Barton, Livvy Jones, Lewis
McElhill, Marie Osman, Phil Rowlandson and Charlotte Terry) continued to
pleasantly surprise me throughout; each member is in possession of a powerful
and unique voice and acting talent to spare. They do not simply accompany the
lead characters; they complement them and strengthen the entire company.
The themes present in Spring
Awakening are exceptionally dark. The questions raised about sexuality and
relationships are both awkward and thought-provoking, and the play is
constantly challenging the audience’s preconceptions, and at times our
squeamishness. Nervous giggles can be heard at certain moments, and there are
some scenes which shock the audience into silence. The characters’ words about
such mature matters lingered in my mind long after I left the theatre.
The Performing Arts Winchester
students’ production of Spring Awakening was every bit as controversial,
hilarious, harrowing and delightfully rude as promised, and also beautifully
accomplished and genuinely moving in places. And most importantly, every single
member of the cast looked like they were having the time of their lives. The
students involved, plus the band and backstage screw, are all exceptionally
talented and definitely not “totally fucked” (my new favourite song). The
performance ended with the entire cast holding their middle fingers in the air,
and every pair of hands in the audience clapping.
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