A Snippet of Life

What an age to be - twenty something, what a blissful decade to be part of. Most people will tell you that your twenties are the very best years of your life, and I strongly agree with each and every ‘real adult’ who says this. By the term ‘real adult’, with which you may not be familiar, I mean those with fully functioning lives, including real responsibilities and, in many cases, restraints. You know the type - house, kids, job, husband, maybe even a dog. I wouldn’t put myself in this category because I haven’t yet reached the ‘real adult’ phase. I am a ‘practicing adult’, like the opposite of a practicing Christian – I am at the age which defines me as an adult but I don’t want to be one just yet. I still have the freedom to jet off and explore the world if I so wish, without having to arrange childcare or a dog sitter. I am currently a student and what better life could I wish for? It is an ideal time where I lead two separate lives, almost, especially as I have chose...

  So, as a kind of New Year resolution I have decided to refrain from saying every single thing that pops into my head out loud to pretend to the public that I have a brain. However, I have found a big issue in this because despite not saying thoughts out loud I still think them just inside but can't hide this on my face resulting in me doing the most mundane things yet grinning like the Cheshire cat. For this reason, I am going to let you in on one of my many progressively randomly spectacular thoughts that I had this morning.   I was sat doing uni work and suddenly found the urge to listen to music which led to half an hours procrastination before casting my eyes at the clock and realising with disgust that I hadn't eaten for over an hour! Disgraceful. Now, bearing in mine I wasn't yet dressed or showered I had a lot to think about. Stay with me.    To begin with, I had to decide how much longer I could give myself listening to Ed Sheeran's new songs on repeat...

  This afternoon I decided to take myself Christmas shopping because two and a half days studying resulted in me longingly eyeing up an empty bottle of wine at 12:00pm on a Monday, wishing it would refill itself so I could pour myself a large glass - and that's no good for anyone on a Monday.    While walking the short walk into York city centre I was happy, chilled-out and nice and toasty in my new fur coat. This mood soon changed as soon as I hit the cobble streets by the shops. Christmas shopping is meant to be fun, enjoyable and relaxing - especially considering the fact that it is still only November!! But, people don't look around them, they think they are the only people in the world and are pure rude. With this in mind, and while being bashed about by shopping bags left, right and centre, I came up with a theory about this situation that I found myself in.   You know at school in every class there was always a couple of people or a small group who act...

  So, being one of those people who lack talent in every aspect of musical theatre but having friends who are very successful in it, I've always admired the casts of musicals. Whether it's been in the West End or various theatres up and down the country or locally in Bury St Edmunds, I always love a trip to a musical. I come out after feeling so happy and usually attempting to sing all the songs, annoying people around me for days after due to a lack of singing capabilities on my part.    Recently I went to see the 25th Anniversary performance of Miss Saigon which blew me away as it always does. I saw it live on stage in the West End last year but this was a recording of their 2014 performance and it was shown in the cinema. The fact it was a recording of a live performance did not make me any less impressed and I loved every minute despite welling up before anything sad had even happened - so moving. After the amazing performance was shown the finale topped i...

  So I am writing this post having just returned from the York Barbican as I felt I needed to write it while still feeling the post gig hype so that you readers can feel this with me (though I admit I am in my onesie already because this place is freezing!!).   I absolutely love the feeling that you get after going to see someone perform live and KT was no exception. She completely owned the stage from her ability to loop the loop on the guitar pedal using various lush looking guitars, sing like a rock-star, entertain the crowd with so much banter and even mash in some Seven Nation Army while she's at it. Even the songs I had not yet heard made me want to dance and she kept the crowd so involved that people of all ages were up and enjoying themselves - from the over 60s in the wings to a little girl of about 7 moshing at the front. Not to mention when my favourite 'Other Side...' came on and the phone torches were swaying I was absolutely loving life belting every word (b...

  As a third year student who is gradually getting more and more terrified about post-uni/ real adult life, I thought this is an appropriate topic for a new post! Reminiscing the amazing years I've had, whilst trying desperately to hold onto the little time that we have left!   I began in 2014, a fresher who had very little experience of the North - this concept that you get half way up the A1 and you're in new territory, a different country almost. I remember driving to York with my Mum, car full to the brim and a very tearful face on my part due to beginning a scary stage of life like no other. I was shitting it! I knew absolutely nobody and I was going to be moving in that day with four total strangers! We stopped at a service station for a bite to eat and I remember starting off again because everybody had a northern accent! Where were all the Suffolk twangs of farmer speak? It was so different and just didn't feel like home.   After Mum had left, I sat in my pri...

  Grandad Mills. This is who he was. A man who appreciated life and everybody in it right until the very end and he taught me to appreciate this too. He would constantly say what a wonderful life he has had and what a credit his friends and family are to him and his memories (of which I can pretty much recite off by heart)! His memory was something else. The stories he told from sixty years ago, although repeated most times we saw him, were never wrongly recited. Every detail, from the exact place to what he was wearing that day, was included. It’s who he was. He had so much energy and was most definitely the fittest 89-year-old I knew. I remember being shocked once when I was playing football in the garden and Grandad came running up dribbling the ball then scored. He must have been in his late 70s at this point. Amazing, but it’s who he was. He was a man of extreme intelligence and independence and sometimes as stubborn as a Mule. “Grandad you’re a bit too old to be cutting yo...