Monday 23 February 2009
Sunday 22 February 2009
Teenage Kicks?
I have always been a fan of Skins. Well, having said that I'm not sure if I could be considered a fan. I think I might just watch it out of curiosity, or to sort of check that it's demonstrating an accurate illustration of teenage life. Though recently, I just cannot get over how increasingly ridiculous the Skins storylines are getting.
So yeah, lots of parties, drugs, romance and general fun is acceptable. But when a random guy from Congo turns up to have a chilli eating showdown with a local gangster (who incidentally sounds like a farmer), I am not convinced. I thought this programme was supposed to be realistic? And I was under the impression it was written, produced and cast by teenagers themselves.
Then again, I did think that the Skins writers were running out of ideas at the end of the first series. It's not every day a lad is knocked over by a bus, and then miraculously gets up, dusts himself off and starts singing Cat Stevens' "Wild World" with his friends. And when they went on a trip to Russia and narrowly escaped death from a psychotic lumberjack, I did begin to have my doubts.
At least that posh idiot Abigail isn't still in it. Are there really people out there that pronounce the word friends as though it has about six vowels? And I'm also quite glad Tony isn't in it anymore, solely down to the fact that every time I look at him I think of his once very chubby face following Hugh Grant around in About A Boy.
Then again, Effy's character is beginning to grate on me this series too. I just wish she was still beautifully mysterious like in the older episodes. Though I'm sorry to say, the ones where she didn't talk.
I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just shut up moaning about it and avert my eyes, ears and whatever other senses if I happen to walk past the TV when it's on? But no. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely loved some episodes. Such as the scenes where Cassie is running through the streets New York, or the death of Sid's dad. Those were truly moving. And I sort of like the thought that I might get so involved in a programme that I feel the urge to cry. It seems I liked Skins for toying with my emotions, rather than my patience.
The more I think about it, the more I realise that maybe I still watch Skins because I'm hoping we see some "lump in your throat" type storylines like before. Though I think these may be sadly exhausted. And with the new, irritating cast churning out these ludicrous plotlines, I remain unconvinced.
Though I will continue to spend an hour every Thursday waiting in hope. We'll see.
So yeah, lots of parties, drugs, romance and general fun is acceptable. But when a random guy from Congo turns up to have a chilli eating showdown with a local gangster (who incidentally sounds like a farmer), I am not convinced. I thought this programme was supposed to be realistic? And I was under the impression it was written, produced and cast by teenagers themselves.
Then again, I did think that the Skins writers were running out of ideas at the end of the first series. It's not every day a lad is knocked over by a bus, and then miraculously gets up, dusts himself off and starts singing Cat Stevens' "Wild World" with his friends. And when they went on a trip to Russia and narrowly escaped death from a psychotic lumberjack, I did begin to have my doubts.
At least that posh idiot Abigail isn't still in it. Are there really people out there that pronounce the word friends as though it has about six vowels? And I'm also quite glad Tony isn't in it anymore, solely down to the fact that every time I look at him I think of his once very chubby face following Hugh Grant around in About A Boy.
Then again, Effy's character is beginning to grate on me this series too. I just wish she was still beautifully mysterious like in the older episodes. Though I'm sorry to say, the ones where she didn't talk.
I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just shut up moaning about it and avert my eyes, ears and whatever other senses if I happen to walk past the TV when it's on? But no. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely loved some episodes. Such as the scenes where Cassie is running through the streets New York, or the death of Sid's dad. Those were truly moving. And I sort of like the thought that I might get so involved in a programme that I feel the urge to cry. It seems I liked Skins for toying with my emotions, rather than my patience.
The more I think about it, the more I realise that maybe I still watch Skins because I'm hoping we see some "lump in your throat" type storylines like before. Though I think these may be sadly exhausted. And with the new, irritating cast churning out these ludicrous plotlines, I remain unconvinced.
Though I will continue to spend an hour every Thursday waiting in hope. We'll see.
Thursday 19 February 2009
Tuesday 17 February 2009
Sunday 8 February 2009
Colossal disaster.
I feel the need to express just how rubbish the new Maybelline Colossal Volum' Express mascara is. Perhaps on paper this mascara does have potential. It comes in the sexy shade "Glam Black" with a fat brush applicator and apparently even contains collagen. This alone sounds like the making of some kind of ultimate super mascara.
But actually, this combination delivers nothing more than a clumpy mess. And that's if you can even manage to apply it without poking yourself in the eye with the proper massive brush. It's also occured to me that even if the mascara was any good, there probably isn't much in the tube anyway due to how big the applicator is. Disappointment.
I'd give it maybe 1/10 just because I love the bright yellow and purple design. Fooled by advertising and pretty packaging yet again, Emily. Oh dear.
But actually, this combination delivers nothing more than a clumpy mess. And that's if you can even manage to apply it without poking yourself in the eye with the proper massive brush. It's also occured to me that even if the mascara was any good, there probably isn't much in the tube anyway due to how big the applicator is. Disappointment.
I'd give it maybe 1/10 just because I love the bright yellow and purple design. Fooled by advertising and pretty packaging yet again, Emily. Oh dear.
Saturday 7 February 2009
Say no to snow!
Well, what can I say? The initial excitement of the snowfall most definitely melted long before the snow did. Okay so it's not like it's been the North Pole, but I really have felt the effects of this recent change of weather. And seeing as it's been said to be the worst snow in thirty years, it couldn't possibly go unnoticed.
First off, being an English student, my scientific knowledge is admittedly rather rusty. But still, it continues to bemuse me how the tiniest, gentle flakes can mound up to become such thick layers of snow. I could hardly leave my house for the snowdrift on my doorstep. And as I practically drive a toy car, I found it hard to even find my teeny motor without mistaking it for a snowball. Further to this, upon eventually finding my car, I was honestly too scared to drive.
Even worse, in terms of the potential fun factor of snow, it seems I’m at an unfortunate “in between” stage. This being that I am probably too old to enjoy the snow like a little kid, yet don’t have children of my own to take out and teach how to use a sledge. Being at university, I also don’t get to enjoy the benefit of those magnificent, and somewhat precious, “snow days.” Sadly, I found myself confined to my house, only excited at the prospect that the snow might begin to thaw.
And when I did decide to brave the weather conditions, I found myself dodging the crossfire of various pesky snowball fights. People just really need to learn some kind of snowball etiquette. In fact, no word of a lie, a random idiot actually walked past me and kindly deposited a lovely lump of snow in the collar of my jacket. Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is potentially the worst place to be snowballed. Unfortunately, I was far too mortified to react; only managing to blurt out a few swear words and give an cold, icy stare. Please excuse the pun.
If this wasn’t humiliating enough, I managed to slip over on the ice on a number of occasions. Once even managing to fall right on my derrière in a rather (not so) elegant fashion. It has to be said, if there’s one thing worse than snow, it’s the ice that follows. Though it does amuse me how people warily tiptoe around appearing to be irrationally petrified of the pavement.
Such a typical British attitude really. Always complaining about the weather. I'm totally freezing, yet I can already feel the heat coming from my August blog, in which I will probably proceed to grumble about the slightest temperature rise.
On the up side, at least now I have a reason to wear my wellies, which I impulsively bought on a midnight trip to 24 hour Asda in my first year. I have been contemplating a use for them ever since. Seeing as I don't happen to own any ice skates, these bright red, blue and green beauties are my best bet. And it appears that in the fashion world, outlandish wellies are allowed to clash with your outfit. Score.
First off, being an English student, my scientific knowledge is admittedly rather rusty. But still, it continues to bemuse me how the tiniest, gentle flakes can mound up to become such thick layers of snow. I could hardly leave my house for the snowdrift on my doorstep. And as I practically drive a toy car, I found it hard to even find my teeny motor without mistaking it for a snowball. Further to this, upon eventually finding my car, I was honestly too scared to drive.
Even worse, in terms of the potential fun factor of snow, it seems I’m at an unfortunate “in between” stage. This being that I am probably too old to enjoy the snow like a little kid, yet don’t have children of my own to take out and teach how to use a sledge. Being at university, I also don’t get to enjoy the benefit of those magnificent, and somewhat precious, “snow days.” Sadly, I found myself confined to my house, only excited at the prospect that the snow might begin to thaw.
And when I did decide to brave the weather conditions, I found myself dodging the crossfire of various pesky snowball fights. People just really need to learn some kind of snowball etiquette. In fact, no word of a lie, a random idiot actually walked past me and kindly deposited a lovely lump of snow in the collar of my jacket. Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is potentially the worst place to be snowballed. Unfortunately, I was far too mortified to react; only managing to blurt out a few swear words and give an cold, icy stare. Please excuse the pun.
If this wasn’t humiliating enough, I managed to slip over on the ice on a number of occasions. Once even managing to fall right on my derrière in a rather (not so) elegant fashion. It has to be said, if there’s one thing worse than snow, it’s the ice that follows. Though it does amuse me how people warily tiptoe around appearing to be irrationally petrified of the pavement.
Such a typical British attitude really. Always complaining about the weather. I'm totally freezing, yet I can already feel the heat coming from my August blog, in which I will probably proceed to grumble about the slightest temperature rise.
On the up side, at least now I have a reason to wear my wellies, which I impulsively bought on a midnight trip to 24 hour Asda in my first year. I have been contemplating a use for them ever since. Seeing as I don't happen to own any ice skates, these bright red, blue and green beauties are my best bet. And it appears that in the fashion world, outlandish wellies are allowed to clash with your outfit. Score.
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