I'll be watching you.

Over the past few weeks I've discovered a number of things which I both love and hate.


1. The 'see friendship' function on Facebook.


2. A number of different apps and programs that allow you to search people's Twitter feeds.


3. A site which has every tweet ever published, archived, no matter whether you deleted them or not.


4. Google's Twitter searching function. Yes, an entire search engine devoted to invading someone else's privacy.


5. A nice little program which gets round that pesky private profile/ photos business on Facebook and Twitter.

I still live my life vicariously through Blink lyrics.

You know that moment when you listen to a song and it transports you back, so vividly, to a moment in time?  That's my favourite feeling in the entire world. It doesn't matter what the memory, I just find it fascinating that even the simplest of songs have the power to evoke such emotions. Every time I hear My Chemical Romance's 'In the end' I'm fifteen, riding the U-Bahn in Berlin; every time I hear Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' it's 3am on Christmas morning and I'm telling someone I love them when I don't mean it, every time I hear Lightspeed Champion's 'Midnight Surprise', I'm getting rejected from Oxford University. The list continues, of course.

I've never understood people who don't like music. In fact, I'd go as far as to say I despise people who aren't passionate about music. I'd never judge a person for what kind of music they were into, just so long as they have an appreciation of music in some form or another.  I recently titled one of my blogs 'without music, life would be a mistake', in case you don't know, this is a quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche. In my mind, never has a truer word been spoken.

Like the rest of the world, I booked tickets to see Blink 182 the other day.  I've been waiting for this moment for years, as they literally were my teens, encapsulated into one band - obviously this is the same for pretty much everyone I know, hence worldwide hysteria. I look back all those years, when I used to listen to their songs, on repeat, for months on end, empathising with every single lyric, of every single song, and nothing's really changed.  I still listen to their songs; think I'm actually Tom DeLonge; and spend my days wishing my life was still filled with the teen angst of 'Down' and 'Carousel'.  This is why I'm so excited; so I can whine about my woes in such an embarrassing fashion and it be acceptable because I'm just reminiscing...

I've decided I'm going to start trying to go to more shows. I used to go to so many, now I only ever go to ones I really want to go to, and waste my nights out in grimey clubs playing trashy chart music. Don't get me wrong, I love a bit of dodgy RnB as much as the next person, but I do miss going to live gigs. I also miss MySpace, if only for the music. Lately I've just been listening to the same music, all the time, to the point where I don't even listen to new releases from my favourite bands and artists anymore, which is shameful.  So yeah, someone take me to some good gigs, lend me some CDs, or just hook me up with some new music to listen to - I'm starting to become one of the people I hate.

You're a wizard, Harry!

I often wonder what my life would be like if Hagrid had never uttered those immortal words. I also wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't such a Harry Potter obsessive. I've concluded that it would be hell.  Some people would say that it's concerning that I'm doing a degree in English Literature and regularly make the case for the Harry Potter books being the best books ever written - I think it's fantastic. Those who went to see the last film with me will remember how I fashioned my own wand to take to it. If you think I'm making this up, I'm afraid you're very much mistaken. My friends actually had to ask me to put it away as I was embarrassing them. It was excellent though; elm, 11 inches, dragon heartstring. I'm lying, it was a glorified twig that I'd whittled into a wand shape with a bread knife. My weirdness aside, I was massively disappointed with the last film; comparable in its poorness only to the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy. Don't get me wrong, they're enjoyable films, but no one can actually tell you the plot five minutes after you've left the cinema.

I wasn't expecting a lot from the latest offering from Warner Brothers and and David Yates. I've come to accept that the film adaptations will anger me, and in no way emulate the magic of the books. This might be a bold statement, but I honestly believe that in 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' they have, at last, nailed it.  I am of the opinion that it is the best of the franchise so far, and actually does the book some justice.  There were no gaping plot holes, and they really captured the poignant scenes, such as Dobby's death and Ron's departure, perfectly. The scene in Godric's Hollow was exactly as I'd played it out in my own mind, and the take over of the Ministry, and indeed the use of 'Magic is MIGHT', was disturbingly, yet obviously intentionally, resonant of "Arbeit macht frei." My only criticism of the film would be the way in which it was shot. At times I found the action was moving too fast for the shots, and even simple shots, where they were panning out, were often out of focus and shaky. Look at me, pretending I know about the technical elements of film. However, as I said to Chloe, my grandma could have filmed that up on her JVC better.

While the film was a respectful translation of the book, I must wonder whether this is because it's the weakest of, what I like to call, the infallible and authoritative works of Harry Potter. These being the last three texts. I argue this as I see a shift between the first four books and the last three.  In a similar way to the shift there is between the Old and New Testaments,  I believe the last three books to be the 'New Covenant', if you will, of the Harry Potter world.  Perhaps it translated better as a film as there was less to translate, or that what there was to transpose to film was easier to do so.  I'm currently writing an essay on why it is that adults love these books as much as children do - yes, I'm aware that I'm in third year and it's utterly ridiculous for me to do this. I haven't actually got an answer to this question yet, however, what is obvious to me is, the reason that everyone loves the books so much is that, to each person Harry Potter is something different. The world they create is entirely unique to their own imagination, and in translating it to film, it places a restriction on the magic that isn't actually the magic of the story, rather the magic that allows the story to manifest itself in such a way.  For me there a two types of Harry Potter fans: those who love the films as they have only ever watched the films, and those who love the books. I admit, I love the books and quite like the films, but I enjoy them on their own merit, not because they are the films of my favourite books - in the same way you can enjoy a lesser form of anything you love.  For those people that love the films in their own right, it's because they've built their entire concept of the world of Harry Potter on the basis of what the film has presented them with. For those that love the books, the films tend to destroy the very foundations of what you loved about the books in the first place.  This 'discovery' has allowed me to make a few conclusions about my general dislike of the films, and my view that loving the films and loving the books are mutually exclusive.  This leads me on to why I believe the latest film is such a triumph, and why it is the weakest book.  J.K. Rowling explicates every detail in the last book, in a way that she didn't before. Whether this is because she developed her writing skills to a greater degree, or whether she wanted to leave no questions unanswered in her last book, I do not know.  However, a book such as this will translate well to film as we are receiving it exactly as the author instructs us to. Unfortunately, I've recently been studying Philosophy and Literature which puts paid to any idea of the author, and actually advocates the death of the author - with respect to interpreting a text. However, with Harry Potter the author is only instrumental in the telling of the story. I often like to argue that Hogwarts must exist because no one, no matter how brilliant, could possibly invent such an intricate and mesmerising world, in which millions of people can immerse themselves, limitlessly.  This idea, however ridiculous, does have some truth in it. The story exists in and of itself; as an organic entity which remains unchanged by the author, but by each reader.  Unfortunately for my ever-dwindling street cred, I have read a lot of FanFiction. Partly because I am a massive loser, and partly because it helps me write, in a very odd way that I can't actually explain.  These stories, written by fans, only serve to reiterate this point further; Harry Potter is magical because of its essence rather than its substance.  If it was the substance that made it excellent, then there would not be hundreds of thousands of stories online, read and loved by millions, and it certainly would not be the case that it is the best selling book series of all time. On the face of it, the books are only appealing to a rather small demographic, yet the entire rational world is gripped by Harry Potter fever.

I'm actually at the point now where I actively judge and dislike people who don't love the books or, at the very least, the films. In my mind there's a special place in hell reserved for these people, along side; those who don't have Facebook, those who don't have a mobile phone and those who don't like pizza.

I'm in love.

P.s. I've NEVER written any FanFiction, honestly.

Idiots abroad: The awkward moment when you get no platformed at a karaoke night.

The past couple of days have been excellent. I've got to know the participants at the conference a lot better, and I've come to terms with the food a bit more. I've accepted that I will be eating fish everyday, that I will never like dill again after this week, and that there is a spectre haunting Ukraine, that spectre is mayonnaise.

Yesterday Ben and I led the day in full, which was daunting but a lot of fun.  I haven't actually told many people what I'm doing in Ukraine, which perhaps I should do as I'm not just here on a jaunt.  I am here on behalf of the Labour Party, through the Westminster Foundation for Democracy, leading a conference in conjunction with the Alfred Mozer Foundation in The Netherlands.  The 'Winter Academy' is for young people from Social Democratic parties in the Eastern Europe and South Caucuses.  The participants are all young activists, like ourselves, and as much as we are here to lead the conference, I am definitely here to learn from their experiences.  The workshops we have run, and presentations we have given, are aimed at giving the participants skills and ideas to take back with them to their own countries, although I feel like I have learnt more from them than they have learnt from me.

Anyway, having led the entire day we were exhausted, but a trip to a Ukrainian karaoke bar was on the cards. There's no keeping me away from karaoke nights in England, let alone abroad where I can spectacularly embarrass myself without fear. What happens in Kiev stays in Kiev, right?  To take part in the karaoke you had to pay 50 UAH, which is about £3.50, so obviously I was going to get my money's worth.  First of all we sang John Lennon's 'Imagine' - not my choice and I didn't really sing it.  Then we did 'Summer Nights' as a table effort. I sang Adele's 'Hometown Glory', and then I did a duet of Glee's 'Don't Stop Believing' with Matthew and 'Angels' with Anahit.  I should probably mention that the karaoke master actually tried to stop us singing anymore songs because she thought we were trying to hijack the night with, what they liked to call, 'foreign songs'. I've never been so outraged in all my life 1. there is nothing remotely foreign about Blazin' Squad, Roll Deep and Tinie Tempah - all of which were available to sing, and 2. we were the best people in the joint!

During the time I have been writing this update on my new Ukrainian life, we had a fire drill. I made a greater attempt to save my Mac than my life - I've definitely become a 'Mac wanker' in a week; whereby I've developed an irrational fear of PCs, and am afraid that if I touch the sub-standard technology I will spontaneously combust.  I was panicking about the fact that the hotel doesn't have fire doors and, as Matthew rightly pointed out, "of course they don't, they don't even have Diet Coke!"

I am pleased to confirm that I still haven't spoken a word of Ukrainian yet. I have actually learnt 'thank-you' in Russian - the language everyone here speaks - it's 'spasiba', but I've set a standard for being an ignorant Brit, so I'd like to maintain that.

P.s. This makes me want to kill myself. They also call Harry Potter 'Jarry Potter' here, pronounced 'Gary'. He is at a prestigious magical institution, he does not support West Ham and work in a garage in Walford!

Ridiculous really...

I wrote something earlier that reminded me of something a friend said to me recently: "it's really unacceptable for girls to ask boys out on dates, Ruth. They'll always say no because they think it's weird." This isn't true, is it? And it's absolutely ridiculous, right? I mean, I'd do it anyway if I wanted to because I don't care, but I'd be interested to see if this is a general perception. I've only made this question specific as it's pertaining to my friend's original statement.

Idiots abroad: the only way is English.

I've been in Ukraine 24 hours now and I am having a fantastic time, although it turns out we're not actually staying in Kiev at all. We were collected from the airport and, after an hour and a half, we arrived at our destination: a lovely hotel in a town called Irpin. We had a few hours to kill before the opening dinner of the conference so Matthew and I went into Irpin to change some money and have a look around.

Being in the town itself was quite surreal; the whole place looked like the set of Pulp Fiction and the shops and stalls were eerily bereft of shoppers.  Despite finding that some of the local yoot were following us around, we had a look at the market and shops, hoping it would provide us with an opportunity to point and loudly say "THAT ONE".  After doing a bit of shopping, which involved buying a lot of hand-carved, novelty wooden items, we found a seedy bar and went for a drink.  Matthew attempted to get us a pint each, but failed MISERABLY seeing as we know no Ukrainian and they have no English. He returned with, what can only be described as, a mini pitcher of vodka and two shot glasses - at this point it was 3pm GMT. We enjoyed the bar, and the company of the locals, who provided us with beers and some fantastic dancing.

Top chap.

So far, in Ukraine, I am pleased to report several things: they are fully supporting a 'no platform for vegetarianism' policy; they still think Toni Braxton is a big name; it seems to be illegal not to smoke in public places and, that my Ukrainian hat has been a big hit - pictures to follow.  However, I am disappointed to report that my universal language of the world has not travelled well and I am a bit lost in translation at the moment. Saying that, while I do look like an ignorant Brit when someone gives me something and I just shout "THANK YOU", their lack of understanding is actually working to my advantage as it was completely acceptable for me to say in front of the barman that I thought he was really fit, as he didn't understand.  I shouldn't get too cocky though and should probably learn the translation for "British knobhead".

While I plan to update this daily, I'll probably fail. So, until next time!

xx

P.s. Ben Semens is arriving tonight and, in preparation for his visit, I've ensured that everyone knows the correct pronunciation of his surname. I'm such a selfless person.

Without music, life would be a mistake.

Kind of connected to something I'm doing in Philosophy and Literature at the moment. These aren't in any particular order, nor are they necessarily my favourite bands and artists. These are just some of my favourite pieces of album artwork, for varying reasons - I would give you them but that would be very boring. This was originally going to be a 'Top 10', I got carried away.

N.b. I've deliberately left 'Dark Side of The Moon' out.

10 things I hate about relationships...

I braved a brief trip home today. It's not that I don't want to see my friends and family, quite the opposite actually. I really miss everyone, but there's something about Wycombe I cannot stand. Whether it's how happy everyone there seems to be living such a mundane existence, or how low the aspirations of the majority of its population are, I do not know. What I do know is that every time I return I feel inexplicably miserable and feel the need to flee as a matter of urgency. Today I lasted a total of 6 hours before having to make my escape.

During the little time I did spend there I did manage to fit in a catch-up with my mother. We aren't particularly close, but I was really pleased to see her and have a chance to chat. Due to the fact that we aren't particularly close the inevitable question always crops up when I see her, “so, do you have a boyfriend?” I HATE this question, and I do not understand why she ALWAYS asks it seeing as the answer is always the same. I know why she does it, she's worried that I'm lonely or unhappy. I'm really none of these things, and if I was it certainly would have nothing to do with being single. She has all these theories as to why this is: that I'm too intimidating; that I'm too picky; that I show no interest in men. I have a few ideas of my own actually: that I'm really rude and repulsive; that I don't like talking to men; that when they try I regale them with past medical horrors such as my tooth extraction; or, my favourite, and most likely: no one is interested. True fact, a friend recently sent me a text saying, "one day, when men aren't repulsed by you and don't want to avoid you at all costs, you'll understand." I don't care, honestly I don't, but what I do care about is people's incessant desire for me to justify myself - especially those friends in relationships, I hasten to add. Actually, I'm lying, my friends are so fed up with what a cynic I am that they've stopped telling me about their relationships, or trying to sell the idea to me. I like that they've accepted I'm a heartless, unloving, emotionless void. Anyway, my mum thinks I'm going down the same route as she did with men, which, in my mind, isn't such a bad thing as she's been with my dad for 18 years and happily married to him for 4, and he's a great character. She actually asked me why I hated relationships so much, so I've compiled 10, of what I believe to be, excellent reasons.

1. I hate change. I like my life, I don't want anyone else to share it, or make me live it any differently.

2. I hate other people. Having a boyfriend would mean interacting with someone else, so that's out.

3. I hate couples. They cringe me out so much, I don't want to become part of the problem.

4. I hate stuff being bought for me. From my experience I'd have to accept gifts, meals and drinks. No.

5. I hate texting. That's all couples I know seem to do. I generally send texts on mass; I wait until I have something important to say, then say it to everyone at once to save time. A friend was once horrified that I don't have "boys I just text all the time to make me feel good about myself", do people actually do this? I can barely manage a text to X-Factor to vote, let alone hold anyone's interest over a period of time.

6. I hate being accountable to anyone. If I want to pass out in my bath, covered in temporary spiderman tattoos, having shaved a Nike tick into the side of my head, I will.

7. I hate the idea of being "in a relationship" with anyone on Facebook, except, of course, Tony Blair.

8. I hate holding hands.

9. I hate public displays of affection. Any boyfriend would have to be prepared for me to pretty much ignore their existence in public.

10. Above all, I'd hate having to relinquish my right to judge others in relationships.

Ok, so these aren't great reasons, but I wouldn't have to make any up if people would just let me be a hermit. Perhaps I am too cynical, but I kind of like it. One day I'll change, but I can't think of anything worse than looking for a relationship for the sake of it. A little while ago I promised a friend that I'd accept the first date I was asked out on, but with my fantastic attitude I don't see myself having to break this promise any time soon.

I guess perhaps you're thinking, in true '10 things I hate about you style', I'm going to conclude this with, 'most of all I hate the way I don't hate relationships, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

Well, suck it up, I'm not.

Facebook: the acceptable face of Islamophobia?

While I find the actions of the men who burned the poppies on Armistice Day absolutely abhorrent, I really, really hate all these groups popping up on Facebook inciting hatred against these individuals, calling for them to be deported. I completely oppose the whole racial and religious element that has been placed on this incident. These men were extremists, they were NOT representing Islam, despite claiming to be. All the Muslims I know conduct themselves with immense dignity, and have a great respect of others and of other faiths. Their religion and the beliefs they hold is something to be admired, and for these reasons, and many more, these men do not represent the wider Muslim community. All I am seeing at the moment is these vile groups demonising the Muslim community, even though they are only claiming to be attacking the few. It is events like this that just open the floodgates for idiots and bigots to voice their incorrect and, quite frankly, racist opinions. I am NOT defending the actions of these few; it was an unspeakable act of disrespect, but I implore you not to join these groups, even with the best of intentions. Every single wall has racists posts by ignorant individuals, and in joining these groups, making their numbers in the thousands, you are giving these people a platform. 


Let us not forget the Muslim soldiers who lost their lives alongside our service men and women in WWII. If these men were the 'true face' of Islam then they would recognise that Armistice Day honours these men and women too.


Yes, we must show these men that we find their actions deplorable, but we can do it alongside the majority of the Muslim community who are also disgusted by their actions.

If you think you're cooler than me, it's probably because you are.

So today I woke up feeling like a champion, despite the fact that apparently I declared to my friend, Hugh, that I am in love. With whom? I have no idea. N.b. if you fancy a declartion of love from me at any point, just buy me 11 pints of cider or super strength lager. I didn't really want to go straight home, although I definitely should have done considering the number of ladders in my tights, so I decided to go to Covent Garden for some sweets. If you've never been to CyberCandy you need to make it a priority to change this. It's INCREDIBLE. Over the summer my friend drove me all the way to the one in Birmingham to procure some 'Kazoozles', which are literally the greatest sweets on earth. There are four shops in the UK: Brighton, Covent Garden, Islington and Birmingham, and they stock everything you could ever dream of, from discontinued items like Cadbury's Marble, to imported treats such as Lucky Charms and Twinkies, to the unimaginable such as Crunchie Freddos and Cadbury's version of Rolos - MADNESS.

After filling my boots with delectable confectionary items, I went somewhere I'd never dare go with anyone else for fear of being ripped apart for it: Forbidden Planet. If you don't know what this shop is, then there's probably good reason - you're not a complete loser, if you do, then we both have a problem. To my shame I'm a massive film and TV memorabilia geek. I don't really buy that much of it as I don't have the room to house it, but for me, this shop is heaven. This shop doesn't just stock replica items and memorabilia, it also keeps comics, graphic novels, clothes, music and a wide array of, shall we say, films aimed at a rather niche market - not porn, just films for weirdos who still play WoW aged 32. I was in my element, and was in there admiring the cases of Harry Potter replica items for at least half an hour. They are UNREAL. If anyone's a fellow enthusiast/ wants some company on a trip to this store, hit me up, I'd definitely be on it.

Here are a few snaps from the shop...

The main display cabinet containing: Harry's vertebrae lantern, Gryffindor scarf, Harry's quill, Hermione's time turner, the Marauder's Map and other wizarding essentials.

Galleons, sickles and knuts straight from Gringott's.

Golden Egg pendant - Goblet of Fire.

House pin badges.

Main case containing all the wands belonging to the characters. Harry's was very average, Bellatrix's was pretty sick.

Marvolo Gaunt's ring/ resurrection stone.

I'm not sure why anyone would want Luna's jewellery, although it's kind of cool.

Hermione's time turner from Prisoner of Azkaban.

Mischief managed

Triwizard Tournament Cup

Nimbus 2000

Firebolt

Unbelievably cool. Didn't buy any though as I'm not blood-thirsty enough to be paying £5.99 for 500ml.

I should probably mention that upon leaving the shop I remembered it was the World Premier of The Deathly Hallows tonight. I may have definitely walked up to Leicester Square for a bit of a recce, but it was just a lot of kids and weird characters who had taken things far too far. The point at which I heard a grown man shout "STUPEFY" at a security guard, was the point I decided to take my leave. Bryony Bemment, if you are reading this in disbelief: I did try to ring several times for approval, but seeing as you failed to answer, I took your silence as your tacit compliance.

P.s. As the title of this blog would suggest, I've succumbed to the charms of Mike Posner. I'm ashamed.