Tuesday, 26 June 2012

"If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance." ~Bern Williams

Well, most of June has sped by at a rate of knots, and I haven't got all that much to show for it, except a couple of pictures... I'm trying to take photos on my disposable camera, mostly because waiting for them to be developed is so fun.
Some Aussies have just arrived, and although we couldn't have one (we had other guests) it has been rather nice to have a little chat with them. Australians have a reputation for looking like this:

(I am aware that's Matthew McConaughey on a surfboard)
Sadly, they didn't quite live up to my standards, but their accents were still endearing.

I re-gingered my hair! Its lovely to be back as a redhead, people do look at you differently, I think. This is my bath after I first washed my hair... yummy.

I went to see Razorlight! Briiiiilliant band, they sound absolutely flawless live, however although I do like them, I was annoyed that:
a) They didn't play Fall, Fall, Fall
b) Johnny Borrell didn't smile
c) Johnny Borrell didn't take his clothes off

I saw my very lovely and very gay friend Jordan for a shopping trip involving many shoes... this isn't really relevant, I just wanted to include a ginger picture of myself.

I've had many cooking urges this month, one of my many creations being this gorgeous-looking pea soup. Recipe on request *winks*

I have resorted to frankly rather shocking emotional blackmail tactics in order to get my friends/family/bloke to take me crabbing. If you've never been, get down to Norfolk immediately. God knows we need the tourism.

After a horrific day of being ignored by bus drivers several time, I decided to make a giant chocolate fudge brownie to cheer myself up.
I succeeded.

Megan's go-to tracks of this month are as follows:
Alex Clare - Too Close (horrifically catchy, please forgive me)
The Only Ones - Another Girl, Another Planet
House of Pain - Jump Around
Jeff Buckley (the man, the LEGEND) - Yard of Blond Girls


Sunday, 3 June 2012

People who say Coldplay are boring, have never seen them live...

"You know how I know you're gay? You listen to Coldplay."

This is a popular quote amongst my crew, (I can't even remember what film it was originally from!) used to describe someone who likes Coldplay.
Coldplay, for anyone who doesn't know, are a British band made up of Chris Martin (who's married to Gwyneth Paltrow) (also, when I went to a really posh pre-wedding party a few weeks ago (I couldn't go to the actual wedding, because Pippa Middleton went to that), the bride-to-be said that she used to go to school with Chris Martin, and that he was a super-musical, super-religious boy with white blond hair) Chris Martin's friend, a hairy guy, and a hot guitarist. They're commonly liked by Mums, homosexuals and Guardian-readers - in short, they are a boring band.
HOWEVER that said, Mr Megan is a massive, massive fan (what this says about my taste in men, I wouldn't like to say.) So massive, in fact, that not only did I have to buy him a Keep calm and listen to Coldplay t-shirt for Christmas, (he was mobbed my a group of girls last night, begging to take a picture with the t-shirt) but he also got a Coldplay tattoo. I know what you're thinking, oh my word Megan, why are you dating this guy, he sounds like a bell-end, but it actually doesn't look TOO bad...

It says "DREAMING PARADISE" if you can't read it.
Don't copy it, he'll kill me.

So, as he is a massive fan, all the albums, t-shirts, tattoos, naturally he wanted to see them live... having said that, when he told me he'd bought me a ticket, I was not excited in the least. I didn't tell anyone, the shame and embarrassment (and ensuing abuse) would have been too much to bear.
Yesterday, we arrived at the Emirates stadium in London - two true country bumpkins in the big city was not as disastrous as I thought it would be, however I did see Mr M looking a bit confused at the lack of tractors on the roads, and our short walk through King's Cross was accompanied by "would you look at that ceiling structure! Incredible!" (he's a carpenter.)
We queued up for EVER AND EVER outside the Stadium, then a bit longer for the loo, then loads longer once we were in before the support acts came on. We were neither impressed by Rita Ora nor Robyn, whatsoever, however as soon as Coldplay came on, the atmosphere completely changed!

Since I can't really explain why it was so good, apart from ALL THE LIGHTS AND THE FIREWORKS AND WRISTBANDS IN THE CROWD AND ALL THE TINY PAPER BUTTERFLIES THAT SHOT OUT, AND THE RAIN, WHICH KIND OF MADE IT BETTER, oh it was really, really good, so you can just look at the pictures... the first half are Mr M's, second half are from the Coldplay website, creds and dat.
If you haven't seen them and you get the chance, don't be a fool, go!

Love, Peace, and Viva La Vida,

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me...

Seriously, if you have ever read my blog, favourited it, followed it (hello, 5 followers!) or a post just made who smile (even just the corner of your mouth) then this is me, begging you all: please leave a comment!! My view count is pretty high for petty musings, but I have a sneaking suspicion they may all be my own, or Aleks', or even Mr. Megan secretly reading (if so, stop reading now before you realise your girlfriend is a misanthrope) so if anyone, ANYONE could comment on a post, it would make me quite happy.
We'll finish with some Elvis, thank you and goodnight.

Thursday, 24 May 2012

Feminism: an outdated idea?

I've been a feminist for as long as I can remember, "feminist" here meaning a person who believes men are dominant and powerful in society, whilst women are oppressed and controlled.
However, looking at some feminist blogs, I can see why some people attach negative connotations to the word "feminist," because of statements like these:

1. "As long as women’s natural body hair is called disgusting and inappropriate while men’s isn't, I am a feminist."
Whilst I agree that nobody's natural state should be called "disgusting," as that's a full-on insult and more than anything else, rather rude, I can't bring myself to look at a hairy woman and think its attractive. Women have been removing their body hair for hundreds of years, and men don't - that's the way it is. Men and women don't have the same description of attractive; women that look like men aren't attractive, and men that look like women aren't attractive - there's no inequality in that. Men that remove their body hair (I'm talking leg or armpit hair here, as not all men grown hair on their chest) get just as much abuse for it as a hairy woman, trust me - I've been inside a footballer's changing room.

2. "As long as misogyny exists in any country in this world, I am a feminist."
This is so much bigger than inequality in gender. This is about religion, poverty and general cultural differences. You cannot profess to going to a foreign country, "teaching" the ways of feminism to the women there and changing their culture without doing more harm than good. By asking these women to put their head above the parapet and rebel, you are, in some cases, asking them to put themselves in a very great danger. The ideas concerning gender roles should be modernised thoroughly, through all aspects of a society, and this sort of change is going to take time. Reblogging a stupid phrase on tumblr isn't going to make that happen.

3. "As long as there are places where women have to pay more for health insurance than men, I am a feminist."
Of course women are going to have to pay more for health insurance. WOMEN HAVE BABIES. It's not a nice thought, but it's true! Just console yourself in the knowledge that in most countries, women are going to live longer.

4. "Oh, you're a feminist? So you're a dyke then?"
It's not just some men who think this! Radical feminists believe that in order to move towards an gender-equal society, women should dominate relationships... and the only way to make sure of this, is to isolate them form men. This is all well and good, and I have no problem with lesbian feminists, but I do think it would be refreshing to find a man, or a radical feminist, who doesn't expect "feminist" to be synonymous with "lesbian."

5. "I'm a feminist, therefore I love football, rugby, Guinness/pink, sparkles, bunnies and loadsa fucking hairslides."
It seems to me most feminists presents themselves as either butch, or super-girly (the super-girly ones are usually the one's just waiting to scream "WHY DID YOU GIVE ME A BARBIE?! GENDER-ROLL TOYS ARE DISGUSTING!!") Think outside the box, for fucks' sake.

However, the following things keep remind me that feminism is actually a good cause:

1. When you scroll through Twitter/Facebook, and see comments like these:
 boys fuck things up, girls are fucked up.
 if they int lesbians they swing both ways haha ;P
What is it will all the girls turning into lesbians!!
Girls and football just no! No no no no no. They should just advertise teams with there thong and tiny tight top on
Girls moan at football but you would all love to be married to a footballer so please give it a rest.
Could use a girlfriend asap ... Any offers?
"All the boys around here are knobend's" No love, just nobody wants to shag a girl who's had more cock than they've had hot dinners.
...which actually makes me feel a bit sicky. I once saw a boy tweet "girls wonder why lads knock them about, its because they're all slags, you make us this way!" and I had to say something, I don't care if he thought I was a twat. It's that sort of attitude that can make me lose my temper in a second.

2. When even the most liberal lad says things like this...
"You like cars and rock music... you'd be quite a good butch lesbian, right?"
"I know marriage is outdated, but I'd like to do it, it would just make me feel like you were mine, there was no getting out of it."
"Girls can't play football."
...and laughed when you told them about your childhood ambition to be a builder.

"Why are you wearing that rugby shirt when its not a game? You look like a lesbian."
"Let's talk about sexism or racism, she gets to wound up!" < Dad.

3. When you ask the careers advisor about how to go about getting into Journalism, and they tell you it's a man's game... go for something like secretary jobs instead, if you like typing.

Friday, 18 May 2012

Sometimes, I wonder why I am going to get up after writing this and turn of my light and walk to the shower and brush my hair and shower and wash my hair so that I can go to bed and sleep to have energy for tomorrow, and also clean hair, so that I can then get the bus into town and buy my dad a birthday present to uphold traditions and routine, and then I wonder why dad will drive me home so that I can get changed to go to work, so that I can earn money to spend to support a failing economy and an unethical global network that I will one day become part of by getting a full time job to support myself and possibly my family, and why am I doing all this and what gives me motivation, and do I really think it will make me happy one day?

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Drip drip drop, little April showers

I have been shit at blogging this month. However, my stats are at an all-time high... are you trying to tell me something?!
I am currently living on 4 hours sleep and 7 expressos a day, so please excuse me if this post is a little bit wank, I'm trying to fit April into one post, the lazy way.

It rained. Lots.

I became obsessed with my current art project, a 1960's spanner advert featuring, shock horror, a woman. I shot this photo, featuring my rather gorgeous friend Steve.

The tickets for Coldplay arrived, which is one of the many things getting me through the horrific revision period at the moment...

...which causes me to feel like this. These are my Intelligent Revising Spectacles.

Mr Megan also took me out many many places, including this little fjord thing during a rare sunny spell. It was quite cute, but he'd say "coot" because we're from Naaarfolk.

I managed to have a wild illegal party, where loads of things, including my house and my friends, got trashed. The 'rents weren't very happy, so Mr M bought me some flowers to cheer me up. They are sunflowers, so you know, kudos to him there.

Made this lovely-looking cake for my friends birthday, because I am skint, too busy saving up for Reading (woop an' holler!) It's got rainbow drops on the top and gay bacon around the edges, but I don't know if you know what gay bacon is... it's like bacon only multicoloured and made of sugar. Regular feed for the average poor student, at 38p a packet, or 3 for £1.
Why am I so poor?

We went to see One Night Only for the fella's birthday... credit where credits due, they weren't bad, but I was confused as to where the mosh pit was, until I was informed there wasn't one. What do you do at gigs with no pit???? Nod your head, I found out.

And lastly, two of my favourite men, Salvador Dali and Andy Warhol. Didn't that just make your day?

Love, Peace, and Mother-fucking A Levels,

P.S. Megan's songs of the month...
Fall, Fall, Fall by Razorlight
You Wish You Were Red by Trailer Trash Tracys
Sheila by Jamie T
Time to Pretend by MGMT
Cherry Cola by Eagles of Death Metal
High Five, Swan Dive, Nose Dive by Pulled Apart By Horses

That'll put hairs on your chest.

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

What's in a kiss?

So today I've had a day off, and stayed at home due to my near-fatal strain of man-flu I have contracted. Being confined pretty much to my room alone, I started flicking through coffee table photography books, and I rediscovered a photo that I have always loved.

The Kiss at the City Hall, by Robert Doisneau
This photo has always held a kind of fascination to me. I know it was staged, but it somehow doesn't matter - the way the man just takes the woman for an impromptu, spontaneous kiss... to me, this is just absolute definition of romance. Call me old-fashioned, but this is how it should be.
So I started looking at some more Doisneau photographs. He took lots of photos of couples kissing in Paris (some might say cliche,) but they proved to be incredibly popular. Just what is it about a kiss that fascinates us so intensely? 

The blurred people in the background on this are lovely - the shutter speed must have been so slow!

They even hold an almost sacred place in films - for what would Spiderman be without MJ's upside-downy kiss, or Lady and the Tramp without the spaghetti shenanigans? I put together a wee shortlist of the best kisses in film (not exhaustive.)

Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961)
A kiss in the rain never fails. Definite brownie points for that trench coat, too.

Spiderman (2002)
Well, it solved the "where do I put my nose?" question. If you have a big nose. Like me.

The Notebook (2004)
I'm a girl, ok? I'm allowed to like this. I'm allowed to like a muscular, sodden Ryan Gosling holding his childhood sweetheart in the rain. I am.

Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (2003)
Yay! Elf love!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011)
Everyone knew it was coming. Everyone knew it would be awkward. It did not disappoint!

Whilst searching for the pictures, I came across a series of photos taken by a photographer in Central Park... I'll let you fill in the gaps yourselves.

That's the money shot, right there.

Oh, God. Am I going all soft?! What a worrying prospect.