The New Year Binge: Top 5 Televisual Treats

After all my talk of catching up on blogging, I've let it slide a little. To be fair, I've been catching up on other things: learning to drive has been the biggest one, but I've also been catching up on my telly watching. February is a bumper month for birthdays and upcoming gigs, so January has involved a fair few quiet weekends to save pennies and mentally prepare.

Thankfully, we've had plenty to watch to keep us going. In case you missed it, I wrote this piece about my top five romantic horror films and the Christmas DVD pile has been solidly worked through. I wrote about the best of my January film binge in my last proper post, and while this one is continuing in the same vein, I'm going to be focusing firmly on the small screen. Well. I say 'small screen', but my boyfriend's TV is pretty huge. It's proven quite hit and miss with DVDs and blu-rays: some older films which haven't gotten a proper transfer look a bit shonky and cheap. However, the amount of quality televisual viewing has thankfully fared much better...

1. American Horror Story: Coven

I've been obsessed with American Horror Story since I first clapped eyes on series one. I love a classic haunted house story, and its creeping pace meant its growing roster of characters never felt messy. I initially loved the second series, 'Asylum', but unlike its predecessor it spiraled out of control: it seemed like some plots were shoehorned into an endings while some were frustratingly unresolved. I loved it while watching it though, as mental health practices are something of an interest of mine.

I was super excited for 'Coven', the third series which promised witches, voodoo, the mystical setting of N'yawleans and Stevie Nicks. Oh, and a plethora of amazing, all-black outfits. What wasn't to like? Jessica Lange was pretty much flawless as always, and the inclusion of Angela Bassett and Kathy Bates dropped in some serious star wattage and acting chops. Every time they were on screen, they killed it. I was also thrilled to see the return of the teen romance between Taissa Farmiga and Evan Peters, our star-crossed lovers from series one.

So far, so good right? Hmm. The series dragged along without much in the way of development and the finale was a hollow anticlimax. The characters seemed a bit more one dimensional than in previous series. As much as I loved the style, there just wasn't enough substance to back it up. However I've now developed an obsession with shawls thanks to Misty Day: Fleetwood Mac and scarf afficionado and possibly my favourite character in the series.

2. Sleepy Hollow

The boy and I used to do a double bill and watch this alongside AHS. It really highlighted the difference between the two, although this seemed to fly under the radar a little more. If you're looking for a substitute for the AHS-shaped hole, and want to fill it with something altogether more fulfilling, check out Sleepy Hollow. This series transports Ichabod Crane to modern day Sleepy Hollow after 200 years underground and teams him up with sassy local cop Abbie Mills, who's got mysteries of her own to solve. The whole 'displaced guy out of time' might seem a little hackneyed, but bear with it. It mixes a fish out of water story with ancient mythology and real life historical events, and the result is entirely satisfying.

If you need further convincing, this is Ichabod Crane. He never actually changes out of his 18th Century garb. Ye olde swoone.

The final was a double episode and, unlike AHS, didn't drag once and left me on serious tenterhooks for series two. I found it bizarre that fewer people have seen it: every episode introduces new elements into the overarching storyline without it feeling cluttered or overly complicated. The supporting cast feature a who's who of Hollywood 'that guys': most notably John Noble as a sin eater, which leads us nicely into my next watch...

3. Fringe

We've had this on DVD for a while and never quite got around to watching it. After devouring our other shows, we put it on 'just to see what it's like'. I'm giving it some leeway: I never find it fair to judge a series too heavily on its first outing and Fringe comes with a pretty good pedigree.

So far, the characters all seem fairly archetypal: wooden FBI agent Olivia, institutionalised mad scientist Walter Bishop and his smart-alecky son, Peter have all yet to come into their own but we're only five episodes in. It has echoes of X Files, Joss Whedon and (according to the boy) Alphas, which is definitely enough to intrigue me back for five more series.

4. Supernatural Season 9

I know I'm going to sound like a total fangirl/ Tumblr user here but I LOVE SUPERNATURAL. Seriously. I made it through eight series in the space of about six months. Considering that each series is about 24 episodes long, it's no mean feat. Yet again it was something the boy put on as he'd watched it all and, after dismissing it, we'd found ourselves with nothing else to watch. I'd dismissed it as Vampire Diaries-esque cheesy teen fodder, but it's so much better than that.

The first five series follow a definite arc and it's clear to see that the show wasn't expected to go on further: series 6 and 7 were bloated and messy, but it found its feet again with Series 8 and we're currently halfway through 9. It's progressed rapidly from 'ghost/hot chick of the week' episodes to full blown apocalyptic battles, angels vs demons, time travel, heavenly prophets, ancient mythology, breaking the fourth wall and even a spot of LARPing.

If I had one major complaint about this show, it'd be its lack of fully rounded female characters: it veers towards misogyny on occasion and female characters tend to be a bit one-dimensional. However, if you can get over that, it's spooky, occasionally gory and always entertaining. Plus, they did nail one female character in the form of Charlie (Felicia Day). If it wasn't for heavenly babe Castiel she might well be my favourite.

She gets me. I could just pinch her wee cheeks.

5. Firefly

I mentioned Serenity in my last post, and how I'd finally caught up with the rest of the world. As soon as I watched one episode of Firefly, I was hooked. However, I did have to make that most crucial of decisions: as much as I wanted to binge on it, I also didn't want it to go away. I managed to pad out my viewing by revisiting Twin Peaks but, alas, it was still over too soon.

I had initially been put off Firefly after watching Serenity in the cinema: I enjoyed it fine, but the film doesn't have anywhere near the emotional resonance of the show. The bizarrely snappy dialogue is still there, but without the understanding of the show, it all seemed a little too clever for its own good. After watching it I took back everything I had ever said about it: I loved how it added Western and road movie elements to a sci-fi series, and every episode had a classic, timeless look ti it despite being rooted in 'the future'.

It pretty much manages to nail every balance perfectly and be wholly original at the same time. I watched it initially to fill a Supernatural hole, and now there's just a gaping Firefly shaped hole in my life. Like the rest of the TV watching public, my life now can be accurately summed up by this:

Take 5 Romantic Horrors: Actual, Published Film Words

OK, I've been naughty. I haven't updated like I said I was going to. HOWEVER, there is reason for that (ish). I've been busy applying for all the 'hings, and I even had an interview for which I had to create a five-minute presentation from the vaguest of vague briefs. I've also learned to drive, helped out some at a Glasgow Film Festival event (more to come on that once my job actually starts), convincing scholarship funds to give me money, learning to drive annnnd THIS.

http://www.scotcampus.com/take-5-romantic-horrors

'This' is my first post for the new, improved Scotcampus website. It's a brief rundown of my Top 5 Romantic Picks for Valentine's Day, whether you're loved up, in the tenuous early days or happily single. I've watched all of these films at a variety of relationship statuses so I'm speaking from experience here.

Now I really have nae excuse to not blog, so I'm gonna go right ahead and get on with that. After body pump because, y'know, fitness is important...

BLOGLOVIN'

So I updated my blog URL, which meant I had to reclaim it on Bloglovin'. Which I'm still learning how to work. In any case, it can now be followed here...

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The Post-Christmas Binge: Take 5 From The DVD Pile

Despite my last posting on New Year's Resolutions, one that I made in all seriousness was to make myself write more. Regardless of whether or not it'll actually be seen. Not for any glorification purposes, purely just to keep my brain ticking over in a somewhat creative manner. Which is all very well and good, but the doing of it... that's the tricky part.

While mulling over 'hings to write about, it clicked that the answer was right in front of me. Because I was watching TV at the time. I know, I know, there's a million people writing about what they watch more regularly and concisely than me. But my Christmas haul (and holidays.... ho) largely comprised of DVD's in all manner of genre shapes. Films, television... well, that was about it, really.

A combination of crappy weather, lack of funds and that general lazy feeling that sweeps over the post-Christmas haze and into the new year ensured that alot of viewing time was clocked up, and I actually made good on starting to watch (or re-watch) things that I'd always meant to, but never quite got round to it. So here's a small (five point, because more than five as I've previously stated seems excessive) selection of my post-festive film viewing. The TV pile is a list unto itself.

1. American Hustle

Apparently there's some male cast members in there, but damned if I can see them...

I figured I'd start the year by blowing the dust off of my Cineworld card and justifying my having a shitty Orange contract, and made my first trek to the pictures for David O. Russell's latest offering. I enjoyed Silver Linings Playbook, although mostly for presence of Jennifer Lawrence. The Fighter was a far better film, with better performances, but this comprised the cast of the two. It was also a warm up for the forthcoming Wolf of Wall Street- something about privileged douchebags being douchey with money that I find so wholly entertaining.

American Hustle was, at best, an amusingly gritty confection. There were good performances- of course J-Law was flawless, and Christian Bale continued his chameleon-like character preparation by cutting about with a gross beer gut and nasty combover. Amy Adams looked amazing but faltered with a dodgy accent, and Bradley Cooper was so smug I wanted to reach into the screen and pull his stupid perm out of his head. Although he's supposed to be a douchebag, so fair play...?

There were moments when I thought the film was really going to take off, that the hustle was well and truly underway. However these moments were punctuated by boggy follow ups that didn't really go anywhere, and as a result the film felt as bloated as its leading man. Lop off about 20 minutes and it would've been leaner, meaner and a good sight more gripping. It never really got to the nitty-gritty of the corruption its core cast were trying to expose, but the 'good times' never really felt so good. Good, but not the classic its title suggested.

2. Lost Highway

What. The utter. Fuck.

The boy and I made the (probably foolish) decision to watch Lost Highway after bingeing on the first series of Twin Peaks (more on that later). After about five episodes, we put on Lost Highway somewhere in the region of 1am. Shit got real. And also very, very surreal.

Dynamite hairdo though 'tricia, really, well done. Also nice rack. You'll see.

In short... if that can be done... this film is a headfuck masterpiece of sex, suspicion, sex, a killer soundtrack, entirely unreliable narrators and... sex. The soundtrack features pretty much all of my Spotify playlist- think Marilyn Manson, Rammstein, Smashing Pumpkins and David Bowie. Hardly surprising, considering it was compiled by Trent Reznor- who also produced one of my other favourite film soundtracks, Natural Born Killers.

If this film can be summarised in any way, it's a noir horror almost-roadtrip. It deals with themes of identity. People may or may not exist, and may or may not be other people. Characters disappear and reappear, or they might not. Characters from one story, seemingly opposites from one another, are thrown together via mysterious and tragic circumstance and the whole thing flows like one of those dreams where you and your family are being murdered and you can't wake up (the kind I had when I finished watching it somewhere in the region of 3am). Definitely one which will benefit from repeat viewings, after wading my way through more Lynch.

3. Django Unchained

I'd already seen this Southern epic in the cinema at the start of last year. Thankfully the boy hadn't, which was the perfect excuse to spend another three hours in Tarantino's sun bleached deep South. The plot is as sprawling as the deserts our heroes Django (Jamie Foxx) and Dr King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) trek across hunting bounty and searching for Django's wife, from whom he was separated.

Being a Tarantino film, there's plenty of cussing and bloodshed ahoy. The performances are excellent, and despite its fearsome running time only really drags towards the end (when Tarantino adopts an Australian accent that makes me wonder if he's ever actually met an Australian person). I adored Inglourious Basterds, but didn't much care for Kill Bill or Deathproof, so this really could've gone either way.

                                             

Not quite the 'Candy Land' I envisaged... ever.

Thankfully my fears were put to rest, although perhaps not one I could watch again in a hurry. Mostly because it's nearly three hours long. Also its depiction of slavery is as nasty as you'd expect: it doesn't hold back and plays with its exploitation and historical genre mashing. Still, I enjoyed the fact that I could root for Christoph Waltz in this one, whereas despite his sweet performance, Hans Landa was nothing but a squirmy, scheming, cringe-inducing Nazi bastard. So that was nice... As a nice counterpoint to all the violence, it's also hilarious, something I felt was missing even from Inglourious. I'm more than excited for the tentatively titled Hateful Eight, that's for sure.

4. Pacific Rim

Autobots wage their battle, 

to destroy the evil forces of... oh. Wait.

I love Guillermo del Toro. I read an article in Empire years ago- early teens at most- where he was talking about the sound design in his Spanish Civil War ghost story, The Devil's Backbone. This article got me interested in two things: sound design and Guillermo del Toro. I even dig the films he takes on as producer: The Orphanage and Julia's Eyes are utterly chilling examples of how to be scary without a) being a tired exorcism movie and b) terrible, bland special effects.

Unfortunately Pacific Rim wasn't an unsettling, subtly creepy ghost story: quite the opposite. It was a loud, brash, boys' toys story, where the scariest thing was Charlie Hunnam's American accent. I get that it's not aimed at me: it's for boys who grew up in the late 80s, when Transformers reigned supreme and anything was cool as long as there was a robot involved. Obviously the boy loved it, being its target audience. I loved the presence of Charlie Day. I would've liked Charlie Day to appear in every scene, but alas, no.

We had more fun predicting the Speak & Spell dialogue. I didn't get why Jaegers (dudes in robots) had to fight the evil Kaiju (supposedly terrifiying sea creatures) when Idris Elba could've chewed them up and spat them out them along with the scenery. Still, it was all very loud and... smashy... the cheesy dialogue was helpfully blown away by giant robot vs sea monster fights, which helped. In saying that I'm sure more people were killed by thewir battles on land as they smashed through cars and buildings with little regard for the civilians they were supposed to be saving... I'll call it del Toro acting on a boyhood whim and reserve my real judgement for his co-authored series of books, The Strain Trilogy (which I can't read yet because I mistakenly bought the third one. Damn).

5. Serenity

I can't... it's too soon...

I first saw this when it was released in the cinema, somewhere in the region of eight years ago. I liked it fine, although I felt I was missing out on an inside joke. The dialogue seemed disjointed and I didn't feel any kind of connection to the characters. I told myself I'd go back and watch Firefly and finally, I did. A mere couple of weekends ago, I'm ashamed to say. The boy got the series on Bluray, which meant my DVD collection got another new addition. Now I could understand the torment every other sci-fi/ Whedon fan has been feeling for almost a decade. Yay...?

Suffice to say I much preferred Serenity second time around. While I still felt it was a bit more emotionally empty than the show (the feels... so many feels...), my newly found character engagement meant that I felt truly happy, devastated and connected at all the right points. There were a fair few plot points which were left to dangle from the series, but this is a small niggle: it's basically a second series condensed into a film, and there's bound to be alot left out. However infuriating it may be.

I was reluctant to watch it purely because I didn't want it to be over and damnit... now it is. I'm gonna have to get baws deep in my TV boxset pile and make up for the gaping, Firefly-shaped loss I now feel. On the plus side we've got Much Ado About Nothing to look forward to. It'll... it'll have to do.

New Year, New Start. Or New Calendar, At Least.

It's the end of the week but I'm all about the new. New year, new post, new attempt at telling myself I'm 'totally going to keep up with blogging this year'. I said the same thing last year with scattered and infrequent results, and I'm in no way promising myself that I'll follow up on it this year. But still, if you can't kid yersel' on in January, when can you...?

I always make New Year's Resolutions and rarely actually make any progress with them. Or they're so broad ('totally get fit') that any attempt at completing them is a vague win for progress ('sign up for one class a week. In September'). In any case, I'm most definitely not alone, as less than 10% of us actually make good on our promises. So, what's the problem?

Mine was always that my resolutions were vague and impersonal. The same ones everyone makes. Lose weight. Get fit. Learn to drive. Luv lyf. 2013 was... lackluster at best. I sorted out my love life, but the rest has a way to go. Still, I made some headway. I done some exercise. I got trainers for Christmas to support this. I passed my theory test. I got Instagram like all the other cool kids who eat food and wear clothes. Totally onwards and upwards, right?

I decided to actually put in some research this time. 2014 was going to be a good yin, and the internet was going to help me, because as everyone knows, nothing is official 'til it's on the internet (scientists also support this theory, as does NASA, and most journalists). I had a look at the most popular resolutions, and had a wee think about how I could adapt them for myself. Make them more personalised. That way, I couldn't fail, no...?

1. Appreciate others and, in turn, appreciate yourself.

That's a song we can all dance to.

If there's one thing I've learned from the internet, it's that if I dislike or disagree with someone or something, it's because I'm rotten with jealousy at this snarling, empty hole in my life which this person or opinion is fulfilling in their own. To try and generate empathy I've started wearing those celebrity masks you get out the Newsbox and walking around with a giant hashtag of my own name following me wherever I go. So far some One Direction fans have built a shanty town outside my house and my mum's super pissed because she can't get her car out the driveway for work in the morning. I tried to explain that I'm just putting myself in other people's shoes.

2. Let go of your phobias and fears.

My biggest phobia isn't dying alone, or failure, or never spawning potential bone marrow donors. I don't like cows. When I was a child I playfully clambered onto a country fence and mooed at some cows residing in a field. The cow mooed back right in my face and I fell off said fence, seriously winding myself and embarking on a lifelong fear of the bovine. It was also my first day of school, so the whole experience made me hate school too. It's also a tiny reason why I became vegetarian.* I'm hardly going to start eating meat again, so I'll have to focus on eliminating my fear of looking foolish in public instead. I could overcome this by mooing at some cows and nail two birds with one stone, but I don't want to progress too much, too fast.

*This isn't even any word of a lie. It's a true story. Ask my parents.

3. Dance like no one is watching.

Whenever I hear someone say "I dance like no one is watching", I don't imagine them swooshing their hair in rhythm to that song from Hair, holding hands with a commune of other happy, dancing, free spirits. I imagine them furtively drawing all their curtains, pumping up the Q Lazarus and jerking around awkwardly wearing their next door neighbour's scalp. This is perhaps one to take under advisement, because the thought of touching other people's hair gives me the boak.

In saying that, people have worn less on nights out and gotten away with it. Hmm.

4. Ditch the car and fit in more exercise!

This one seems to be pretty popular in that it's often cited as the easiest way to squeeze exercise into your busy, busy, busy lifestyle. Everyone seems to have one these days, amiright? I for one just don't know how I'm supposed to find the time for exercise in between The Real Housewives of New York and their counterparts in Beverly Hills.

This one also angered me because it felt like it was actively trying to mock me. I walk pretty much everywhere that doesn't require transport. Also, I was so successful on my first attempt at a driving test that they want me to go and do it again. I then realised it was my anger that was holding me back. This is the year of letting go, I thought to myself. Instead, I would face the elements with a smile, rain lashing my face and ruining any attempts I'd made at taming my hair or hiding hormonal face breakouts, and grin like a sweet natured simpleton at all the fools with cars then can afford to run because they have jobs, as they roll their way to an early grave. And a double wide coffin. Joke's on you!

5. Go after your dream job and stop living to work.

I don't live to work. I would very much like to. I like to think of myself as a professional interview attendee. I've gotten quite good at it. I'd like to go after that big promotion, which in this case means actually getting past interview stage. There's apparently an economic upturn, from here on it's going to be like the old glory days, when recent graduates walked into CEO positions and blew their noses with £50 notes and tramps and aristocrats discussed their favourite caviar because everyone was equal and better off.

That being said, maybe I shouldn't wait for the opportunity to come to me. Maybe I should just make it happen myself, become a self employed business type. I watch alot of films and frequently binge on TV shows, mostly once their popularity has waned (I'm only just feeling the horrific loss of the Firefly crew). I could become a professional lamenter, telling people how much better things were back in the day. Or I could take a tip from Breaking Bad and start punting drugs. I live near several schools and underpasses, so it'd be easy money. By this time next year I might even have my own caravan!*

I also own a hat like this and it makes me look both super professional AND #ootd cute.

*I may be missing the point of Breaking Bad, I've only ever seen half an episode, and it was the second one.

I felt like 5 was a decent number to round up on. Making ten resolutions seems a little far-reaching at this moment in time. Baby steps. Don't run before you can walk. Make small changes and the big changes will happen themselves. You get the jist. By next Hogmanay, I'll be such a new and improved specimen that resolutions will be a daily occurrence, I'll be a walking good deed and a powerhouse of physical and mental strength. I will be actualised ambition in human form. And I'll have done it all without once resolving to quit smoking. SUCCESS!

The Little Hings

My mum always said 'be grateful for the little things'. Since graduating last year, this has been more than a little difficult to bear in mind, and super easy to lose sight of. I've been lucky enough to bag some pretty good jobs in my mere year of freelance work, and while it hasn't been exactly dependable, it's taught me a lot. I've worked with people who are good at what they do and known for being so. However I've been having a bit of a think about 'the future', and what it actually holds. I always knew I wanted to work in a creative environment. In the past I've tried my hand at art, film, media and social sciences. I started an English degree, but I didn't love it. I got tired of people asking me if I wanted to be a teacher. (I don't. I couldn't. I know what I was like at 13 and being faced with 30 of that would surely land me some time on the inside). I never really knew exactly what it was I wanted to do, but I always figured I would 'when I was a grown up'.

I've been stressing a lot about not having a definite career plan. When I was at uni (for the second time) there was little wiggle room in my course. I bagged a trainee job before I'd graduated and picked up work from there, but was never sure if it was really what I wanted to be doing. Last year I applied for a number of creative internships, which I was perfect for apart from being 'too old' as they were apparently only for 16-25 year olds. I had only turned 26 months before. Since when did age matter? Since when did life experience not count for anything? In today's economy, there are plenty of creative types and graduates sitting unable to work in the area they studied for. People are taking jobs just because the job's there, and in unstable times it makes good financial sense. But does that mean that they're past it because they don't fall into a certain category?

After scoring four interviews, I was unable to go for any of them as soon as they found out my date of birth. I petitioned the Minister for Youth Employment, who tried to fob me off with some facts and figures about the state of youth unemployment. They claimed the 16-25 bracket were the worst hit by unemployment figures. I did my research and yes, unemployment figures in this age group was higher. But so was the volume of training and apprenticeship schemes. Meanwhile, the figures for 25+ were only slightly higher, with no initiatives or help offered for this category. I sent some more emails arguing this case and was told that they were 'looking into it'. This year, when the internships were announced again, the age range was 16-30. I'm not saying I had anything to do with that but I like to think that enough people did that they were forced to make a change. It just goes to show that if people take action, action will be taken. You've got to fight for what you want, and not expect things to just be handed to you.

I've been to a fair few media training courses, but none of which seemed targeted at my current role (working in the sound department, just to clarify). It started to grate after a while. Even part time work was hard to come by. I started to wonder what the point had been in studying and getting a degree, when I was really just getting nowhere.

Eventually I started to pick up some interviews. I attended one, and they told us that out of over 2000 applicants, they had only chosen to interview 200. From that, only 40 would actually get hired. I didn't get the job, but it put things into perspective. I was one of only 10% of applicants that they actually brought in to interview. I don't even have that much retail experience, but I must have made some sort of impression. I started thinking about what else I could do. I was limiting myself by sitting thumbing it and waiting for work to come along. There was no reason why I couldn't go after jobs I wanted just because I wasn't 'qualified'. Other things count too: you could be the best person for a job on paper, but have all the personality of a wet sock. You could be super ambitious to land a top producer's job but become so focussed on it that you overlook other opportunities along the way.

Anything that comes along is an opportunity as long as you have the enthusiasm and willingness to do it. It doesn't matter if you don't have a clear cut career plan. It's good if you do, but in not doing so, there's a nice sense of freedom. It's easy to fall into a trap and think you're a failure because you're not on a accelerated path to The Dream Job. It's even easier to consider yourself a failure if you compare yourself to other people. For me, it was only when I took a step back and looked at the small stuff that I got some perspective. I have a family who were willing to let me move back in when I couldn't afford to keep my own flat on. It's not ideal, and it's difficult sometimes, but I have a roof over my head. I've got good experience, and more experienced professionals have told me so. I've only been out of uni for a year. Technically I'm still a recent graduate.

Yeah, I'm not doing my Dream Job right now. But right now, the Dream Job could be anything. I'm applying for jobs I'd never have considered before, even if they really interested me. I've got good friends and an awesome boyfriend. My hair's sitting quite well today. Whatever I end up doing, I'll have worked for. It's autumn, my favourite season, ad I', not going to waste the time I have now by sitting moaning. And perhaps the biggest realisation of all is that sometimes... sometimes... parents are right. As much as it pains me to say so.

Movin' With The Times

I have moved with the times (and finally figured out how this works) and claimed my blog on Bloglovin'. I don't really know how it works but if it saves my aimless ramblings from dwindling in blogscurity all the better.
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Shocktober; Or 'Predictable Horror Binge' Post

October is quite possibly my favourite month. It's a month where it's acceptable to pile on jumpers, wear anything decorated with bats or ghosts and include pumpkin in all manner of cooking. It's also an excuse to binge on horror: much like drinking before noon on Christmas, it's something you can do any time of the year but only during October is it truly acceptable. Lock yourself in a room (or in our case, a caravan on the coast of the Solway Firth), dim the lights and power through as many as humanly possible before the wee caunles flicker oot and every tiny creak becomes irrationally terrifying.

Also much like Christmas, there are a few classics I like to revisit every year: Hocus Pocus is the obvious and long standing favourite. It's full of black humour, set in Salem, features a talking cat and was quite possibly my first introduction to the word 'virgin'. I don't think I'll ever tire of this one. I missed it last year; unfortunately I thought I had it on DVD when I didn't, and I just never got round to buying it. As a result I enjoyed it doubly as much this year and am now wondering if a purple cape would be a suitable wardrobe investment.

 Yes kids, there was a brief period in the mid 1990s when Sarah Jessica Parker was actually pretty slammin'.

Another obvious choice is of course Halloween: not the crass Rob Zombie remake (eew) but the 1978 original. It doesn't matter how many times I've seen it. There's nothing freakier than a dude in a mask standing perfectly still, and then disappear. I do have a slight phobia of masks, which makes it possibly more frightening for me than it actually is (I don't think The Strangers is an especially terrifying film but the night I watched the trailer I slept in my living room). HOWEVER, it's a genre classic; a simple story, well executed (harhar) without an over-abundance of blood, guts and exposition. Perfect. This film may be the reason I think I'm going to be murdered all the time, but that's just... that's just the sign of a good horror right...?

I AM SO NOT COOL WITH THIS.

I do try and mix it up around this time of year and use Halloween as an excuse to buy up new films purely because "it's a horror I've never seen, tis the season etc". I bought Berberian Sound Studio in a mammoth Amazon binge and have been saving it until now as I thought it'd be something special. I thought I'd love it due to it being set almost exclusively in a sound studio (the.... one in the title), based around the experiences of a sound engineer working on a horror film (one of many dream jobs) and is a modern entry into the 'giallo' cannon. So far, so good yes?

Hrmm. I really wanted to like it, and I think I did... but I think a lot of my enjoyment was down to the little insider nods. I too have hacked at vegetables to recreate the sound of stabbing. I too have wanted to commit bodily harm upon a producer. However, this isn't exactly an accessible film even for those familiar with the processes. It's hard to tell where it's going, and it crawls along at some points before plummeting into 'batshit crazy' territory. It's certainly spooky and atmospheric, and before long the close confines of the studio become quite stiflingly claustrophobic. Possibly a little curio that could benefit from repeat viewing.

I watched Don't Be Afraid of the Dark after seeing that it had been produced by Guillermo del Toro and foolishly thought this meant it was good. It wasn't. Opening sequence and nasty third-act leg break aside, it was one of the most frustrating wastes of a film I'd watched in a while. This was a good couple of years ago and I still winced at del Toro's producing credits on Mama, which we finally got round to watching recently. It's purely only taken so long to get around to because we were waiting for the price to drop in Asda: yes, we could've ordered it online, but that would've felt like losing. Or cheating. Or something.

Anyway. It was with trepidation I approached this one, unwilling to let myself get excited by the producer tag. I figured that nothing with Jessica Chastain in it could be all bad, so I softened a little. Even more so when I realised the male lead was Nikol.. Nicol... Jaime Lannister. Kind of made it harder to take it seriously, but too many horrors are let down by casts of bland unknowns, so I took it as a positive.

I could mostly relate to Jessica Chastain because this is how small children appear to me all the time. Even when they're being 'cute'.

 

The film's set up was pretty creepy, although I feel it played its hand early in showing 'Mama' before the credits. The two little girl leads were creepy and played their parts well, Jessica Chastain was less convincing as a goth rocker (I don't know anyone in a band who has ever said "I'm in a rock band!"), and at first her unwilling surrogate mum act made her seem selfish and whiny. However, she soon warms to her new responsibilities somewhat, and accepts the supernatural elements of the film surprisingly easily. It really annoys me when characters spend entire films refusing to believe in the obviously ghostly goings on, so it was nice that both she and the girls' psychologist buy into them without a huge deal of convincing. The film also veers from the typical syrupy happy ending, and despite some storytelling issues, was more satisfying as a result.

Also thrown into this year's spooky mix was Beyond Re-Animator, which if anything is possibly more ridiculous than the original Re-Animator film. It suffers a lot from being released in 2003, which was a good year for... well, nothing really. The acting is 90% terrible; the saving grace being whenever Jeffrey Combs is onscreen. Besides him, most of my enjoyment of this was based on me and the boy's running commentary. Oh, and a (shadow) fight between a reincarnated rat and a severed penis, which is TOTALLY worth sticking around for.

Lastly (so far, anyway, there's probably more I've forgotten and more to come), came An American Werewolf in London. I remember seeing the infamous transformation scene when I was far too young to have any business watching it. I'm fairly sure Thriller had something to do with it; I loved that video before I realised it was by the same White Michael Jackson I was so terrified of as a child. In any case, it still stands as one of the best uses of horror make up and effects I've seen, as does the decomposing state of David the Werewolf's travelling buddy, Jack.

Paper cuts are always so much worse than you think they're gonna be.

 

This is yet another film I've seen countless times but still creeps me out: I don't know whether it's the sprawling, drizzling countryside or the claustrophobic Tottenham Court Road station, but both the city and rural locations are used to great effect. The use of music is ridiculously heavy handed but the inclusion of songs with 'moon' in the title always raises a smile as well as an eye roll.

My spooky film watching seems a little down from previous years, but that's purely down to a) taking a collection of Spanish horrors to watch on a TV with no working remote, therefore no subtitles and b) an alarming upsurge in awesome things to watch on TV. Well. That were intended for TV and subsequently acquired. Sleepy Hollow has been surprisingly watchable and I'm super intrigued to see where it goes. (I did actually watch the Tim Burton film version recently too, although I'm fairly sure I blogged about it a few years ago. I doubt I'd have anything more to say on the subject: for my money it's possibly Burton's best). American Horror Story: Coven is only two episodes in, and already looks like it could be my favourite of the three so far. I was pleasantly surprised by Bates Motel: after initial disappointment that it was actually set nowadays, we got really into it and powered through the first season in a matter of days.

I'm sure after posting this I'll remember everything else I've watched this month but for now, my mind's drawing a blank. Which is probably just as well. It looks like the kind of night where I'd look out and see an oversized man in a white mask just staring up at me... I should probably go and look at pictures of pugs or something.

The Truth Is Out There. But It'll Cost You.

Ah, the internet. The great equaliser, international forum of fact and information sharing, home of amusing cats. Not even Jen from The IT Crowd could break it. Safe to say the internet has pretty much changed the way we conduct everything in life. Information we might never have known is readily available at our fingertips. We have the power to start revolutions. Or take pictures of cats sniffing our dinner plates. Whatever, I'm not governor of the internet. What you do with it is up to you.

OR IS IT? (ooh). There are many higher ups who would prefer the public are still kept in the dark when it comes to sensitive information, and those who sound the alarm are treated as outcasts, hounded down and often forced into hiding. The most famous and historically shocking was that of Wikileaks founder and platinum haired egotist/cyber prophet, Julian Assange.

Or quite possibly Ellen DeGeneres.

 

Depending on what you believe, he's either a freedom fighter for the digital age or sexually deviant blowhard who doesn't care about the consequences of his own actions. The anarchist in me likes to think the former, but there's no denying there's something a bit... odd there. The Fifth Estate attempts to lay bare the 'real story' of Wikileaks, which is somewhat difficult considering it's based on a book by his estranged former business partner Daniel Berg.

 

In any case, I enjoy a good biopic, and I also enjoy Benedict Cumberbatch. Despite bearing little physical resemblance to Assange (he kind of looks like a 6ft lizard crossed with Viserys Targaryen), he has the accent and mannerisms nailed. I also loved Daniel Bruhl in little-seen German film Goodbye, Lenin!, as well as Inglourious Basterds, and I'm enjoying his increased presence in mainstream Hollywood. So far so good, yes?

 

Well. Hmm. It's definitely a hit and miss affair. Being adapted from the side of the wronged party, The Fifth Estate paints a sympathetic portrait of Berg: a keen volunteer and initially Assange's biggest disciple, he becomes the 'straight man', reigning in his partner when he gets carried away by the bluster of his own ideas. Berg is seen here to be the one with common sense, who's looking out for people's well being while Assange seems intent of posting confidential documents regardless of the effect. Berg starts off as keen as Assange; posting the names and addresses of BNP members and proudly boasting to his kind-of girlfriend Alicia Vikander. He firmly believes that the information shouldn't be edited: this reflects bias, whereas Wikileaks only bias is towards the Truth.

 

"Look at my glorious beard, Benedict"

"I know, I Khan't quite believe it"

...sorry.

 

However, when super classified information about the Afghanistan and Iraq war logs is sent to the site, the bromance cools as Berg feels publishing the documents with names intact spells danger for those involved. It's all very tense, and they talk about it a lot in boardrooms and during heated hissy fits. This leads to one of my main problems with the film, and one of my pet hates: clunky exposition. The film's script is pretty explanatory, in that it doesn't leave much food for thought. It doesn't show anything; rather characters; backstories are revealed through lengthy monologues. Which wouldn't REALLY happen in real life.

 

Also, with the film being based on Berg's account of the story, much is made of his own private life. He was a Judo champion as a child. He has very supportive parents. There's a lot of time spent developing his relationship with his girlfriend. This would be a nice sub-plot in a fiction, but here I don't really care. It means  Assange is portrayed as some other worldly character, who we don't really dig under the skin of.

 

However, there's some attempt made to explain his motivations and why he is the way he is. The central relationship follows a nice arc, and the tension in their relationship is quite palpable. This, however, is down to the strength of the two lead performances. Quite often the supporting cast is left without much to do: David Thewlis is always a treat, but he does bluster an awfy lot. Peter Capaldi has a handful of lines, but sort of looks an ageing scarecrow wizard. Melisandre from Game Of Thrones shows up, leading me to the conclusion that the virus that eventually shuts down Wikileaks is in fact a cyber shadow child (I'm not sure; as I said it's not really explained). There's another subplot with Laura Linney as a US government aide whose career is put in jeopardy by the leaks, despite by (apparently) stellar track record. This one is probably the most developed, but it still feels a wee bit tacked on.

 

That said I did actually really enjoy this film. It's definitely a slow burner and the pace drops to a standstill at many points. It's definitely not for everyone, and some background knowledge/or interest in the scandal is probably necessary to see it through to the end. If you keep an open mind prior to watching, it's easy to get drawn into it: you're left wondering how much truth there actually is in anyone's story. Don't be put off by lazy comparisons to The Social Network: I for one liked it alot more than that. Although I really hated The Social Network. I kept wondering when Zuckerberg was going to send Spider-Man a box with JT's head in it. Or something. I definitely enjoyed it more than Assange himself. In the end, the truth of the story is so distorted that you're left to make up your own mind. Or find out more about it, at least. And isn't that really the point of a good controversy?



Insidious Really Isn't Very Good

I love me a good horror film. I also love me a bad horror film. However, when I say bad, I mean wobbly sets, wobblier accents and huge palmface moments kind of bad: think Demons, Return of The Living Dead, that kind of bad.

What really grinds my gears is a potentially good premise and a good first act thrown away by schlocky plotting and worse acting. The Conjuring was one of the highest grossing horrors of all time: good for the genre, bad for the endless vacuum of identifilms which will no doubt trail behind it. I wasn't a huge fan- there were a few good jumps but I rolled my eyes when the first ghost appeared and by the final act it had just descended into another by-the-numbers exorcism flick.

With Insidious 2 getting talked up a whole bunch, the boy and I decided to work on our ever-growing List and crack into the first one. The premise seemed interesting enough, if a little standard. However I did enjoy the first Saw (OK, the first three) and the writer/director combo of Leigh Whannel and James Wan was enough to sway me.

I had avoided Insidious because it had the bad luck to come out round about the same time as Orphan. If you haven't watched Orphan, don't. That's all I'm gonna say on the matter. I figured I'd be fair though, and give Insidious a fair chance. Turns out this was a mistake by my all too generous nature.

If you don't know or haven't guessed, the plot is fairly straightforward. Stressed out teacher dad Patrick Wilson and terrible ballad writer mum Rose Byrne and their floppy haired weans move into big, spooky house. Annoying oldest child questions lack of photographs of Dad then KO's into an inexplicable coma. Strange noises are heard on a baby monitor. More spooky things ensue. The family then move to another house (because it's that easy), where further spooky things ensue. Exposition dropping mother in law Barbara Hershey drops some exposition and tells them to call in a team of 'experts', batshit insane things ensue, BOOM, shovel to the face of a twist ending.

Thankfully I wasn't alone in thinking so. Rose Byrne thought so too.

Don't get me wrong, there were some very effective scares in this film. Mostly involving dancing children, which terrify me at the best of times. But this film is so keen to force scares in your face that most of them are hard to avoid. The lighting, sound design, hammy exposition: nothing's a surprise, so that when the good scares come along they're noticeably good.

Sadly anything which might have salvaged the film are ruined when the psychic investigator experts come a-knocking and the whole thing just becomes some weird inexplicable mess. When the link between annoying coma child and his Dad is revealed via some badly Photoshopped pictures, all logic (if that's even the word) flies out the door almost as fast as my interest.

All of this could have been somewhat saved if I had actually cared about any of the characters... but I didn't. Rose Byrne plays one bad ballad then sniffles and screams her way through the rest of the film. Patrick Wilson is predictably sceptical then buys right into it. The psychic investigators provide some laughs but they're dropped right in the middle of all the awkward hand-wringing that it feels a little cheap. There's a séance scene involving a gas mask that was unintentionally hilarious (at least I think it was), and then the climactic battle is a scare free zone that's like watching a bad stage play.

Overall, I'm very glad I watched Insidious. I could've watched the second one first and then went back to check out the original, but instead I've saved myself two hours. I'm... gonna consider that a win. Incidentally here's a better film that uses a baby monitor to beat you over the head with scares. You're welcome.

Catching Up, And Some Life Lessons

Sooo I pretty much all but abandoned this blog, along with my notion to WRITE MOAR, in the last couple of months. However ever since I posted an old blog on Twitter, I've noticed a wee jump in page views, and as anyone who's ever sat in a orthodontist's waiting room knows, it's nice to have something new to read. (My orthodontist's collection of gossip magazines is still speculating the sex of Kim Kardashian's human/camel hybrid. I expect more).

Kunts.

 

In any case I've been busy, so I've had excuses. I've been dipping a toe in the water of post-production sound (read: DREAM JOB), while making dollah doing location sound trainee work. For anyone unaccustomed to industry ranking, it's like flipping burgers in McDonald's when what you really want is to be a Michelin starred sociopath, screaming at potato peelers and spitting on guests for even daring to want to eat what you're cooking.

Still, all experience is good experience for a floundering freelance masochist like myself. It also meant I got my own digs for a month while working away from home. By digs, I mean 'student halls'. A step up from the halls I lived in aged 17, but halls nonetheless. At least these ones were en suite with a double bed. My old one featured an Oompa Loompa sized mattress and I had to share a prison style bathroom with five other girls. When it came to time of the month, it was kill or be killed.

The days were long, so my time in digs was minimal at best. I also had time to reflect on my trainee life, given that there were only two people living on each floor and I didn't hear as much as another door slam for my first fortnight. I hadn't done such a long term job in a while, and was clearly a teeny bit out of practise. After a month, I was a trainee machine. I could lift several heavy things at once while only breaking a very mild sweat. In the hope of retaining some of what I learned for 'next time', I compiled a list of all some of the lessons I learned along the way. Mostly for my own benefit and reference, but hey, I'm all about sharing information.*

*If I never get another job again and do actually end up asking you if you want to upgrade to a large for an extra £1, please feel free to disregard any of what you're about to read. I won't take offence.

1. There is no such thing as too many jobs at once.
Seriously. It might seem like you're being asked to do a million things at once and you'll never be able to do them all. That's because you are, and you won't. Not at first. When you first start out, the trick is to always look like you're getting on with things. Always stand next to a flight case or floor bag if you feel like a wee doss, but make sure it's not closed over fully. That way, you can slam it shut as someone comes in the room, as if you've JUST finished taking care of some business before you take on the rest.

2. Sleep is for the weak.
It's amazing how little you need once you get into a routine. It almost becomes a game, albeit the least fun game ever. As long as you know the words 'yes', 'no' and 'I'll get right on it' you can usually fumble through your day on autopilot. I usually find this ably supported by an over-dependence on caffeine. Which brings me to my next point...

Pictured above: a lazy intern who hasn't mastered the art of linking several straws so not even sleep can interrupt coffee time.

 

3. If you don't like coffee, you better start.
There's not much else. On-set tea generally tastes like someone's brewed an armpit, and no amount of milk and sugar will disguise it. On-set coffee tastes like brown flavoured water, but it's a vast improvement. It might also help to drink it straight out of the kettle or coffee pot; that way you might hopefully scald your tongue and therefore suppress the taste. For the most part this rule can also be applied to catering and copious sachets of salt.

4. Prepare for all climates by dressing unattractively.
Unless your job involves hair, make up or clothes. For the most part, you don't have much time to preen. As long as you, y'know, wash. Things like hair can slide. In fact it stays in place easier if you can slick it back into a ponytail using a sweet layer of natural oil, thus removing the need for hairspray. As for the face, carting batteries, mics and multiple rolls of carpet will give you a healthy sheen. Delicious!

5. Fill your pockets.
Not in a theft kinda way. Just make sure you always have pens (ball point and mini Sharpie if possible. Mini Sharpies just scream "I don't have room in my busy pockets for full sized pens!"). AA batteries too, just because they're kind of technical and someone will at some point always need one. This way you can creep up like a shadow, batteries in hand, ready to swoop in and save the day. Until you inevitably get in someone's way moments later. If you have room, stuff a copy of your script in there too. Thus should be marked up with a shorthand of your own making: it looks like you've made loads of super important notes super quick, and no one will be able to detect that you've actually just reminded yourself to get Febreze so you can continue to smoke in your room with your head out of the window. If you can remember what it is you've actually written.

6. And at the end of it all, SPEND.
SPEND LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW. You've worked for it. You've put your life on hold. And you've been really good not spending anything and squirrelling money away buying 10 fags and two pints of milk while on the job. Who cares if the next job isn't lined up right away? You've always got to look your best in case such an occurrence comes along.

Prior Preparation Prevents Poor Performance

It appears that I've broken through the first hurdle of legitimate job hunting. The first stage, applying to whatever I carefully select regardless of suitability, usually results in outright 'naw's. They tell me it's nothing to do with me but they went elsewhere anyway. Which is not entirely reassuring, but they've mind-banged me into thinking that it kind of is.

The second stage is where you liberally throw all of the shit at all of the walls, and actually start to get some feedback. This stage is features the occasional interview, which for me is a welcome relief. Unfortunately the danger here is that you forget what you've applied to, therefore are completely unaware of what shit has stuck.

Last week, I found myself being invited along for a cheeky last minute interview for what I assumed was a bar job. I was brimming with confidence. This is, after all, a job I can do in my sleep. (Sometimes I have. I dreamed I was doing a day shift and slept in for my actual day shift). I went along safe in the knowledge that I'd be at least qualified for the punting of swally.

As it turned out- and I instantly learned- you should ALWAYS KNOW WHAT YOU APPLIED TO when you go for an interview. Here is a rundown of mistakes that can possibly be made (that is to say, I actually made them), how humourless grey suited managers will interpret them (judging by the look in their eyes) and how to save face. In hindsight. Always in hindsight.

1. "Tell us about your friends and family, social activities etc".
What I said: "Umm my best friend lives in Aberdeen and I'm on Jobseeker's so I don't do much in the way of social actitivies, thank God for prepaid Cineworld Unlimited cards eh?"
What I SHOULD have said: "I enjoy a wide range of activities, such as running children's arts and crafts groups, baking, knitting, developing business strategies for funsies based on what I watch on the Stock Market channel and taking elderly people out for walks and stone skimming as they talk about yesteryear as if anything post 1960s had never happened. I have friends of all colours, races and creeds and my life is a sparkling rainbow of diversity".
What I might as well have said, judging by the reaction: "I like to skin cats. Sometimes I don't even kill them first. I make the owners watch. After a while they just... stop screaming".

                                                                                      (Source: videoflavour)

Relax, kitty. I'm more afraid of you than you are of me. For serious.

2. "Tell us about your most prolific role and what your duties were"
What I said: "Ehh barmaid, but it was in a rock bar so I got to pick all the tunes which was cool, nothing worse than being stuck somewhere with rubbish music ahahahahaha! Umm apart from that I kind of done, y'know, like, everything. Table serving and stuff".
What I SHOULD have said: "As a supervisor my duties could include anything from daily set up, training staff, serving customers, counting all the pennies, totally not pretending to mishear orders so I could have a cheeky wee double Jack sitting in the wee dookit where we wash the glasses".
What I might as well have said, judging by the reaction: "I totally pretended to mishear orders so I could have a cheeky wee double Jack sitting in the wee dookit where we wash the glasses".

3. "Can you give us an example of when another colleague has ever looked to you for support?"
What I said: "yeah man when I lived in town I picked up all the extra shifts when folk phoned in sick 'cause I lived round the corner. Easy money and I could get there in like, 6 minutes if I smoked really fast and didn't stop for oncoming traffic".
What I SHOULD have said: "I acted as a liaison between staff and management, a smiling face of the proletariat but one with the unbridled trust of the greater hierarchy. I was a woman of the people, addressing complaints and not minding when someone couldn't lift more than one box at a time from the stock room".
What I might as well have said, judging by the reaction: "People always came to me when they wanted good skag. I made more money from that in a day than I did in a week of underpouring shots".

4. "What's your availability regarding notice period and hours?"
What I said: "I live in Cumbernauld and my buses finish pretty early so I might not be able to hang around after like, 12. maybe 11 just to be safe".
What I SHOULD have said: "I'm available immediately and I can do any hours. I'll take out the last bin and mop up the last puddle of sick. I'll get taxis or rent a room in the Eurohostel if need be even if it means I'm not actually making any money".
What I might as well have said, judging by the reaction: "NEVER! (MANIACAL LAUGH)!!!"

5. "Do you have any questions about the job? How much do you know about it?"
What I said: "To be honest I've been applying for so many jobs lately that I'd actually forgotten what the job was... umm, I mean, until I got the phone call the other day".
What I SHOULD have said: "I am [insert job advert here] who is also [select from keen, enthusiastic, self motivated, team player, customer focused, driven by the best representation of the brand] with a can do attitude".
What I might as well have said, judging by the reaction: "I put the buffet out whenever there was a birthday party on. I didn't care how it went as long as there were spring rolls left".

                                                   (Source: menuism)

I REGRET NOTHING. NOTHIIIIIIINNNNGGG!!!!

They said they'd get back to me at the end of next week. Fingers crossed!

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Sit Ups

Like 975,000 others of my kind, my days are spent glued to a laptop effectively infertilising myself with the amount of time I spend with this machine on my lap. Technically I'm a freelance sound assistant, but in the eyes of the government and my mum, this lack of sustainable income translates as the less creative sounding 'unemployed'. Still, if the time I spend on the internet pretending to no one that I'm applying to all the jobs has taught me anything, it's that for every dark cloud of rejection there is a silver lining in the form of inspirational memes. I've mentioned them before but they seem to have exploded in number. Much like bunnehs. On a side note, who doesn't like bunnehs?

                                                  (source: omgsocute )

They say if you look at this photo adoringly for long enough you cry tears made of rainbow diamonds and all conversations are conducted in song, like in the Disneyverse or that episode of Buffy.

 

Awwhh. Well I feel better. In any case I still have some of my favourite ever inspirational memes stashed away in a photo folder, just in case I become hardened to the sight of tiny fluffy smooshy BUNNEHS.

 

I truly hope that day never comes.

 

                                                       (source: tumblr )

Sometimes I do actually in a non sarcastic sense think on how I'm actually pretty lucky in having a place to stay. Because if I were to be maintaining the foolish impression that I could keep up with rent that 'someone' would be a rancid tramp who'd be trying to share his last splashback riddled bottle of White Lightning with me and I accept because I ran out of mouthwash. Sometimes it's the umm, little things.

                                                       (source: tumblr )

If that person is in fact wearing scaffy looking white boxers standing next to an unkempt and possibly stained looking not-quite-double bed, they're probably called Travis and you're in a motel. Travis is paying you $100 for the night and he's even splashing for the room. He's calling you an angel but he's also calling himself Daddy Bear. He probably has Dorito dust under his fingernails.

                                    (source: tumblr )

I decided I didn't want to feel like a human anymore. I wanted to feel like a mermaid. I filled my pockets with boulders and walked into the ocean fully clothed, assuming that it'd be like the reverse of The Little Mermaid and would totally work as long as I sang about how I wanted to be where the fishies are. In hindsight it's lucky that I'm a strong swimmer because this was a horribly misjudged idea based on terrible advice.

                                                        (source: tumblr )

It's like that time I was late for the train because I'd left my lighter in the house and I was damned if I was paying for another one AGAIN. I got to the station as the train pulled up but I was still smoking so I let it get jogged on. I got the next train instead which didn't stop anywhere before town. I felt like I had been given the Gift Of Time, which I then squandered deciding which shade of red hair dye to spend my Boots Advantage points on before opting for the same one I always do.

 

                                                       (source: tumblr )

With all my time off I've been working on Plan X. I was inspired by the £3 copy of X Men: First Class I bought when I went to Tesco's to buy cigarettes and milkshake. I plan on putting a fork in the microwave so it explodes and sends nuclear waves into the kitchen and myself, giving me super cool radiation powers and qualifying me for a place in Magneto's gang. I've been practising stabbing Nazis in the hand and everything.

I Like My Coffee Black (With A Wee Straw)

If I were to calculate the amount of money I've spent in Starbucks over the years, I'd weep. I'd weep for the corporate stooge I'd become, hating myself for the meth-like grip the evil empire had over me. I used to go in every day when I was at college. In fact, we'd quite often be late just to ensure we got our daily fix. I'm not entirely sure anyone cared. You can't be a dark, brooding art student without coffee. And a copy of The Catcher in the Rye that you don't actually read.

I wasn't aware that the South Park goth kids were supposed to be some sort of ironic piss take. In fact I applauded them for creating characters I could actually relate to. Was my face red!

 

Anyway. Starbucks and I have enjoyed a healthy fruitful relationship. We both have a laissez faire approach to paying the Government. They've now decided that a multinational corporation needs to be seen as 'friendly', and 'approachable', and have some kind of human connection. After all, shops are closing every day. People need somewhere familiar. Somewhere they can forget about their financial woes while paying as much for a single coffee as they would for a jar. In order to do so, they've come up with the idea of taking names. Now, my name is apparently quite easy to get wrong. All of it. I never order taxis under my own name, there's just no point. So when I'm shouting it over a counter, surrounded by noisy buzzin' bean junkies, the results are always going to be... umm... mixed at best...

 

This was the first attempt. Before now, I just thought they were selective with who they asked. The last time I'd went into Starbucks, the girl in front of me had been asked her name. She was very classically pretty, like she'd waltzed out of American Apparel. She looked like she would smell nice, and her hair was swooshy. By comparison, I didn't get asked for my name. I wasn't wearing eyeliner and I'd had a long day at uni. The girl behind me didn't get asked for her name either. She looked like Hatchet Face from Cry Baby.

 This is the most common misspelling/mispronunciation of my name. For years all I got was, "is your name Adrian 'cause yer maw's pure intae Rocky?". In protest I didn't watch Rocky until I was about 18; old enough to be over the embarrassment and to also know that no, I was not named after Rocky's girlfriend. I mean I'm sure my folks liked the film, but naming your child after a supporting character is a pretty bold statement. An opinion my future son, Wayne Gale Magneto Peter Venkman Calgie, will undoubtedly share.

 

 I'm embarrassed to admit that the only time my name has ever been spelled correctly was on a non-black coffee related product. I'd smelled some Jack Daniel's in someone else's glass the night before, and it had left me feeling a bit worse for wear. I couldn't face my usual black tar, and I wanted something sweet that was also non-food based. Have you ever ordered a Frappucino? It's impossible to do so without mentally giving yourself the 'wanker' gesture. And also shouting 'wanker!' at yourself, in your own head. Damned if it was tasty though, but next time I might give a fake name. Just so, y'know, if said cup is found it can't be traced back to me. I've got a reputation to maintain.

 

And we're back. I've never had a correct spelling of my name since that first time. Usually I just stop being a wanker and say 'Ada'. It's easier. It's three letters. Sometimes I get 'Ava', but you know what, I wouldn't mind if that was my name, so that's OK too. Most times I remember I actually have none of the money I did at college and bypass it. However, yesterday I needed some perking up after facing town on payday Friday. That's a tough shift, I'd earned it. The one thing I do like about my name is that no one else has it. OR SO I THOUGHT. The guy in front of me had been sent on the office coffee run. He was getting BAGS full of coffee based goodness. He was rhyming off the names for everyone's drink. I was pretty agitated as he was taking FOREVER, and my caffeine supplies were running low. My ears perked up when I suddenly heard him ask for a "mocha, that's for Ada, A-D-A". I was too embarrassed to be seen having the same name as someone who'd drink a mocha. I didn't want to be associated with this impostor and her lack of commitment to one thing. Is it hot chocolate? Is it coffee? At least a Frappucino is self-consciously flamboyant, like a peacock. It doesn't try and masquerade itself as a legitimate coffee option. Boo you, mocha, and boo you Fake Ada for tarnishing the reputation I only just got away with after the Frappucino incident.