The land of my ancestors

In an attempt to cheer me up after my failed Interrail trip, and as she had always wanted to go there, my mum and I decided to go to Rome for a couple of nights. I LOVE Rome, as it is the most amazingly beautiful city I have ever been to. I first visited the place a couple of years ago when I went on a sixth form trip to Rome and Venice. It was, and possibly still remains, the funnest trip I've ever been on, partly due to the fact we were 16 and took full advantage of the lower drinking age in Italy. This probably served to why it was such a fun holiday, but none the less i was very excited to be returning to one of my favourite cities. As I was going with my mum it was obviously going to be a very different trip to what I had experienced before. (My mum is the kind of person who gets a headache after one glass of wine..so definitely was not going to be a party holiday.) It was also a chance for me to put what I'd learnt at Uni for the past two years to the test. Studying History of Art meant that I had spent the last two years learning all about Rome, as it holds some of the most famous art and architecture in the world. Studying a bit of Archaeology also meant I learnt a lot about the Roman empire, so I was smugly looking forward to sharing some of my knowledge with my mum. Therefore it came as quite a shock to find out that I knew nothing. We were wandering around St Peter's Basilica and although I recognised pretty much everything around me from various lectures, I couldn't actually talk about them, much to my mums frustration. She obviously held a lot of faith in me as she had kept turning down guided tours on the basis that 'my daughter is going to be my tour guide' err yea, sorry mum. What the hell have I been doing the last two years? because it certainly hasn't been gaining an education...I'd never felt so stupid in my life.

I did however take some lovely pictures, so you know, thats something I suppose.

After returning from the Vatican somewhat bemused, I was sat outside a lovely quaint Italian coffee shop when it suddenly dawned on me that I'd been here before. Not to that particular coffee shop but the road it was on and the giant square and church that were opposite definitely seemed familiar, and suddenly visions of drunkenly wandering around this area hurtled back to me. Then I had a look around and to my absolute joy spotted a little Irish pub across the road, and realised my hotel was right round the corner to where I had stayed back in 2007! I was elated, as this little pub held so many memories, dancing and drunkenly talking to teachers, Hannah having to be walked home by Mr Grant, people sneakily smoking outside feeling horrified after being discovered by Miss Smith. I did wander round to try and find the famous 'Italian wine' restaurant, but as I had pretty much no recollection of that night I had no hope in finding it.

Other than realising I've wasted a hell of a lot of money at Uni pretending to learn things, I also discovered that Italian men are drawn to me for some reason. With a group of mates that would be fine and would lead to some funny stories no doubt, however when on holiday with your mum it has quite the opposite effect. A particularly keen waiter at one point thought it wasn't inapropriate to hold my hand and kiss the back of my neck (bare in mind it was boiling and I was what can only be described as a sweaty beast..God knows what he was thinking, but I bet he instantly regretted it) At least for now I can suppress any fears of becoming a spinster, and be safe in the knowledge that one day I can just elope to Rome and find a lovely, if somewhat creepy, Italian husband. Score.

Masterchef moral dilemma

As a Vegetarian it has crossed my mind on numerous occasions that maybe I shouldn't enjoy watching cookery programmes. But I can't help it..I absolutely LOVE them..particularly Masterchef..I am somewhat obsessed. Just because I choose not to eat meat doesn't mean I can't enjoy watching minor celebrities (as it is Celebrity Masterchef at the moment) playing with the animals remains. That was my belief until last night anyway, when I witnessed Christine Hamilton savagely hack away at a pigs head with what can only be described as some sort of machete during the Masterchef Finals. This scene did make me feel pretty ill, which on a positive note reminded me that my veggie beliefs are still very much in tact, so yay for that..however it did make me rethink my obsession with cooking based programmes..Thanks Hamilton for destroying one of my only enjoyments in life..

Saying that though, obviously I watched the rest of the programme (after recovering from the horrific butchery images)..and I shall most likely tune in for the final tonight! Oh and I still want Christine Hamillton to win, but thats beside the point..

If my summer was a movie, I would not pay to watch it

Summer holidays are supposed to be the most thrilling months of your youth, embarking on wild adventures and having steamy summer romances. Now I've watched enough American teen movies to realise that my life is in no way similar to these american ideals. Rather than setting off on spontaneous road trips singing along to Sheryl crow, I seem to be spending my days watching the best of what Britain has to offer in the realm of day time television, and slowly eating my bodyweight in chocolate.

As a student I spend the majority of my year in this manner, so in reality it shouldn't be too much of a culture shock. But at least at Uni I have a slight purpose with the odd lecture to plan my life around, having 3 months with no schedule is utterly depressing. Yet it wasn't untill I realised that washing my hair become something to centre my day around, that I realised that something had gone seriously wrong.

This year my summer was meant to be amazing, I had it all set up; tickets for Glastonbury and then a month travelling round Europe with an Interrail pass. I was all geared up for one of these memorable summers, I was ready and waiting to blast out the Sheryl Crow.. It started well, I went to Glastonbury and had possibly the most glorious week of my life, chilling out with a can of beer in a field with some mates listening to brilliant music is my idea of heaven, so having 5 days of it nearly caused me to have a mental breakdown as I thought nothing else can ever be as good as this. And sadly I was right, as the day I got back from Glasto my Interrail trip fell through and I was left in a state of 'what the fuck do I do now.' And the answer was nothing, I do nothing now, except sit in my house, watch TV, eat pringles, possibly doritos, and just wait out the summer.. It took me a good few weeks to get over the fact I was stuck in Hounslow rather than Paris and Rome, but with a little help from Jeremy Kyle and the realisation that no matter what I did with my life, it would never be as bad as the people who appear on that show, I put the pringles down and carried on with life!

Thanks to my friends I have had some brilliant nights this summer, and thanks to my lovely mother I did get the chance to go to Rome (which I'll talk about in another post, as this one is quickly turning into a novel) However, as depressing as it sounds, this summer has taught me not to expect too much, and I shall go back to Uni having learnt this lovely lesson.

Next summer WILL be amazing though, I am determined! (Denial is a wonderful thing)

(Prediction for this time next year- I shall be in the exact same boat as this year, but a tad more depressed as I will no longer be a student...and prob quite a bit fatter)

Somewhere Over the Rainbow..I actually have a life..

Oh how I wish I didn't love crap TV so much!

I've just had my weekly fix of musical based extertainment, and boy did it feel good..Yet I can't help but feel a slight sense of guilt about how rubbish some of the TV I watch is..This guilt obviously quickly vanishes as soon as something equally bad is on to entertain me for the next hour (and so the cycle continues)..Just to clarify, I do watch good'uns as well, clearly 'Over the Rainbow' doesn't provide the same level of excitement as my latest obsession,The Sopranos, yet that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the awkwardness of the whole debacle, and being able to spend an evening gawping at Andrew Loyd Webber's amazingly ugly face. (Which I have oddly started to find strangely hypnotic.)

I am unashamedly a television geek, and watch far too much for my own good and this often means I have to watch the good with the bad. Even though I realise I should hate certain programmes, such as 'Glee', I find myself strangely transfixed and return every week to watch it. I know its crap, while I watch it I am usually cringing, and after I watch it I think 'what the f*** was that?' Yet I always want more...

I will just have to accept that I love musicals, a little song and a dance and I'm happy..as painfully uncool as that might be..(except High school musical, even I don't stoop that low)...

Feminist ahoy..

After two days of reading about gender theory, I have discovered that unbeknown to me, I have some genuine feminist feelings running therough my veins. Now don't get me wrong, I am no Germaine Greer, however I have felt somewhat empowered over the last few days, and have found myself giving men a pretty hefty dose of evils, particularly to the poor guy at Morrisons-No I do not need help packing thank you very much..

Obviously most women like to think of themselves as the strong, independant type, who does not need a man. I am no exception, yet I can't pretend that I have never cast a seductive glance(and failed) at the man behind the bar, in a poor attempt to get served first. Similarly I would never turn down a drink if a guy offers, partially because lets face it, it doesn't happen that often, and it is extremely flattering, and partly because I am a desperately poor student. Once I am rich enough to live the strong and independant lifestyle, then the tables will turn, and I shall hold all the power, buying drinks for men and watch them enjoy their moment of false hope, before crushing them. (I may have slightly missed the point of equality..)


With the majority of girls being raised on the ideaology of 'girl power' in the 90s, I'm actually quite suprised that there isn't an army of dedicated feminists fighting for equality. Perhaps this could have been the case if the Spice Girls had been just a bit more interested in brainwashing the young girls of the world, rather than using their power to create cheesy feelgood music. (This is of course for dramatic effect..I bum the Spice Girls)

I will have to settle for being a wishful thinking feminist for the time being, yet learning so much about gender theory has definitely made me think more about what the inspirational women who fought for suffrage would think about the world now. I can't help but think that these women would turn in their grave if they saw an episode of 'Snog, mary, avoid.' (yet they could be glad that these young gals at least have the freedom to wear their underwear on a night out...?)

I have far more of an appreciation for the freedom and equality we have no days, and if I had the funds to buy bra's willy-nilly, then I would definitely burn a few of them...One day I may be an exceedingly powerful female, yet at the moment I am defo more like Daisy in Spaced -turning up for a job interview at a feminist magazine stoned and saying 'Girl Power'..whilst making the victory sign...