Toaster Problems

Sorry for lack of posting recently. I finished my exams a week ago and thought I would have more time to write but I was a very busy bee...

... until my toaster broke.

Anyone that knows me will understand what a massive catastrophe this was.

A couple of days ago my friends and I went out on the raz / lash / pull / graft etc. (i.e. we frequented Liverpool after dark) and there's nothing that I like better after a late night than some golden brown buttery goodness the next morning. So this is what I had.

After deciding that three pieces of toast was not nearly enough, I got out some more bread. (Granary for the win) I placed my plate carefully on the surface nearest to the toaster to reduce the wafting and therefore cooling of the toast. I readied my knife in the butter next to my plate in order to optimise melt capacity. I was all set. I got out the bread and slotted it into my beautiful four-slotted beast. I set the dial to 2/7 because burnt toast is for losers and people who don't understand the beauty of the world. I did one last check of my preparations and pushed the lever down...

... all the electricity in my house switched off.

No joke.

The trip switch had done its irritating job of ensuring everyone's safety because the fuse in my toaster had blown. My dad went to reset the trip switch and everything returned to relative normality.

I think this was when I began the experiencing The Five Stages of Grief because I was completely in denial of the fact that my beautiful appliance had broken. I pushed down the lever on the toaster again and...

... all the electricity in my house switched off... again.

By this point, my dad, brother and friend were understandably getting annoyed at me as dad lumbered off to do the trip switch again.

My friend remembered we could do toast on the grill in the oven but this is when the second stage of grief kicked in - anger. I was FUMING (angry) that I would have to subject my bread to the ugly burn lines of the oven grill and I became even more worked up when I realised I wouldn't be able to get my bagels to remain soft on the outside but toasted on the inside if I used my oven. Nope, I was not happy.

Then boom. Next came bargaining. I went back over to the toaster and used the extent of my scientific knowledge to unplug it and plug it again. I even fiddled with the wire at the back. It couldn't be broken, not after all the good times and the bad times I'd shared with it. Maybe we could swap the wires with the microwave. Surely something could save it. But alas, no.

This is when waves of depression washed over me like the Mersey on a stormy day. What was I going to do without my beloved and trusted appliance? What would we do with the breadcrumbs it had meticulously been collecting in the tray at the bottom for years? I couldn't imagine finding another toaster like it. This was the end of an era... a warm, toasted, buttery era.

It was only yesterday morning that I finally gained acceptance of what had happened. Mum and dad, realising that I couldn't cope for long in this limbo state with no proper toast, rushed out to Costco and I woke up to find a new chrome machine placed precisely where my old friend had been. It was a gut-wrenching moment but it was inevitable.

I know one day I'll look back at all the fond memories I've shared with my old toaster, but at the moment it's still too raw... like my bread. I haven't been able to bring myself to use the new toaster yet even though I understand this day will come soon.

But until that day,

RIP my old faithful toaster, you've served me well. I hope you're having fun in that great kitchen in the sky.

Keep toasting.

x

That's all for now, folks.

The Habitual Tea Drinkers Society

There still exists a stereotype of Britain in this day an age of people sitting down for "elevenses" or afternoon tea in top hats. I recently visited America and the amount of times a person thought it was amusing or just plain fantastic for us to be ordering a brew was phenomenal.

They probably also think we own tiny dogs called Tilly and Milly who we keep at our country home when in actual fact, this is what most of us see everyday.

2013 Tea Party

But then I got to thinking, what's wrong with this stereotype of Britain? Maybe we should embrace it! I used to hate tea, until I envied my mum and Granny for being able to sit down with a pot which is when I began to force myself to drink it...and now I love it! I'd never really considered myself as a "proper" tea-drinker until I contemplated my own daily tea-drinking schedule. After compiling the list, I feel a bit stupid...

Here is my daily tea schedule (open to change):

My Tea schedule

Morning:

Standard morning - Green Tea

In-need-of-a-pick-me-up morning - Apple and Cinnamon Tea

Lazy morning - Blackcurrant

Ill morning - Lemon and Ginger Tea

Elevenses:

Out-and-about elevenses - English Breakfast Tea (the run of the mill tea)

Already-tired elevenses - Another Green Tea

Lazy elevenses - Orange Tea

Still-throwing-up elevenses - Camomile Tea

Post-lunch:

Standard post-lunch - Red Bush Tea

Knackered-and-it's-only-just-been-lunch - Yet another Green Tea

Lazy post-lunch - Blackcurrant Tea

My-whole-body-is-now-on-fire - White Tea

Afternoon / returning home:

Standard afternoon - Red Bush Tea

I-still-have-work-to-do-at-home-this-evening- Apple and Cinnamon Tea

Celebratory-tea-for-my-lazy-day - Fruit Punch Tea

Urgh-I-want-to-curl-up-into-a-ball-and-watch-Pride-and-Prejudice-this-evening - Hot water with lemon

Settling down in front of post-watershed TV:

Standard evening tea - Camomile

Going-to-pull-an-all-nighter - Green Tea

Lazy evening tea - White Tea

If you're still trying to force down drinks after being ill all day.. stop. Just go to bed.

NB: If someone is offering to "fix a brew" for me, I find that it is common courtesy to accept/ask for a normal tea.. unless they SPECIFICALLY offer you something else.

Voila. So there is my average tea schedule. Just so you know, I'm neither massively rich nor have a tea compulsion, it's just that people often give me tea for my birthday and Christmas so I have compiled in my cupboard what I like to call the "Now" Album of all the best teas. (Excluding Earl Grey... I hate Earl Grey.)

So it's clear that I love tea. But I think that it's not the consumption of tea itself which has made the drink so iconic. It's the fact that everyone can bond over a cuppa - the event of drinking tea. It's the metaphorical bunting and Battenberg that accompanied the tea. You could offer your posh old Aunt a brew, or your builder, or your mum. And each time you do, there's a tiny invisible thread of tea leaves that connects you to another person, another tea drinker. And let's not forget the magical healing elements of tea. If someone is wins the lottery/loses a leg... it's only a matter of time before someone goes to put the kettle on. Drinking tea is a social event - whether it be celebratory or consolatory. And let's be honest, a mug is possibly THE easiest present in the world to buy someone.

So... what's your view of the whole tea thing? All hype or can't live without it? Favourite kind? (If you say Earl Grey I will hunt you down and make you eat all of the Earl Grey tea bags in your home.)

That's all for now, folks.

Why I Love A Cappella

A cappella - from an Italian phrase meaning "in a Church style" because historically in Church, music was provided by either an unaccompanied chant or choir.

And thus the style of music without instruments was born, and vocal chords became the instrument of choice.

Being in an a cappella group myself hasn't made me any more knowledgeable or any more qualified to talk about it, but it has inspired my love of a cappella so I would like to share that.

A cappella is not a modern term, nor does it only cover the unaccompanied pop we associate it with today although there does seem to be a revival of a cappella music in the past few years (think Pitch Perfect and Pentatonix).

And now I think it would be a good time to tell you why I believe a cappella music is the BUSINESS:

1. Breadth

So so so so so so so much stuff can be defined as a cappella, and that's what I love about it: it's not a genre of music - it's a style.

For example, this can be classified as a cappella music:

(Swingle Singers performing an a cappella version of Ave Verum Corpus by Mozart )


But this can also be classified as a cappella:

Both are incredible, and both are a cappella!

2. Technical skill

Don't get me wrong, I am in NO WAY saying that singing a cappella is more technically challenging than playing an instrument. I just think there's something especially commendable with singing 10 part harmony (for example) perfectly in tune, without going flat or sharp, and without the aid of pre-tuned instruments. And when you consider that a lot of a cappella songs nowadays are covers of regular songs, that means people are basically singing a guitar part anyway! Pretty darn cool eh? 

And again, I don't want to offend anyone but this post is about a cappella music in its true form - not those covers on youtube in which one person records and layers their voice for every instrument. There is definitely a LOT of skill involved in that process, but I just believe it's a different kind of skill to my idea of a cappella singing which is a bunch of people performing on-the-spot with no chance of re-recording or auto-tuning.

3. It's so fun

When else can you get away with singing incoherent noises that sound a lot like the "maaaooaaam" or "eeeeeeyooooore" to replicate guitar riffs or sound effects in songs? WITH THE ADDED BONUS THAT IT SOUNDS AMAZING.

(NB: For a simple beat box rhythm, repeat the phrase "boots and cats and boots and cats and..." over and over again without saying the vowel sounds)

Plus, no need to find an extension cable or wall socket or instruments or a tech guy or a room or electricity or space... you can just go and sing!

So

From the choral masterpieces of Thomas Tallis (check out If Ye Love Me), to Barbershop quartets, to modern pop covers, you're sure to find something you love. And I would definitely urge you to to find something! Or sing something... all it takes is one person!

Here are a few of my favourites to inspire you:

Pentatonix

Straight No Chaser

Swingle Singers

I might have accidentally on purpose dropped into the conversation that I'm in an a cappella group. We are an amateur Liverpool-based 5 part a cappella group called F#TM and we sing for fun. Sorry, I couldn't do this post without a tiny bit of self-promotion.

Here is a video of us performing:

Here is our channel:

F#TM Channel

And here is our Facebook page:

F#TM Facebook Page

Hope you enjoy it!

That's all for now, folks.

Why it's OK to Fancy Older People

My desktop

As you can see from the screenshot of my laptop desktop above, I am a proud fancier of older men and I feel it is now time to voice my opinions on this wonderful subject. (I'm going to try to relate this to either gender)

Just so you know, I am most definitely NOT a relationship guru. Most of the examples I'll give are from my own limited experience as an 18 year old girl. These are just my ponderings and the advice I'd give to a friend.

Why it's OK to fancy older people:

1. The maturity thing

Because let's be honest, immature people are not attractive. I don't mean the Dougie-from-McFly sort of immaturity - that's more endearing than pretty much ANYTHING in the world. What I mean is someone who is on the verge of a breakdown if they don't get their own way. Someone who gets incredibly needy if you don't communicate with them at least 5 times a day. Someone who still "lols" at the mention of genitalia. We all know that person, and we all know we wouldn't go out with that person. Maturity has to be one of the main reasons a person is attracted to older people. Imagine going on a date, and the person you're sitting with knows that the posh French dish on the menu actually just means breaded chicken. And just imagine being with someone who knows a little bit more about alcohol than the difference between Echo Falls and Gallo. Someone with genuine (but not in your face) self-confidence and self-assurance is attractive. Emotional and intellectual maturity is sexy.

2. Looks are looks

Why hello, Miles.

It shouldn't matter if someone is your age or 10 years older than you, if they make your knees wobbly, then what's the problem. You're in a bar. In your left-side peripheral vision, you spy an 18 year old with acne, badly-cut bangs, trousers halfway down his thighs, laughing at the word "penis" approaching you. To your right, you spy Miles from the Apprentice making a bee-line for you. Should you in some way be obligated to lunge at the 18 year old? Don't lie to yourself, we all know which way you'd turn. If you find someone attractive, and they find you attractive, then why not lunge at them go and introduce yourself!? Which brings me to my third point.

3. Age is just a number

What a lad.

Right, I KNOW that this is the excuse used by many a pervert, but there is some truth in it. However, I still maintain my point that the whole fancying older people malarkey is more about personality (and looks) than age. You might be an incredibly mature 20 year old who gels incredibly with a 30 year old. *hippy American accent* YOU CANNOT DENY THE CHEMISTRY MAAAAAN. I have some proof of this whole idea. I have a friend who is my age (18), and she was recently dating a 29 year old. Everything was going great. She'd cook dinner with him and they'd go out with his friends, and she felt totally at ease. He seemed really nice, then one day.. poof.. she never heard from him again. Nothing. So you tell me - who was the adult in their relationship? It works either way. There could be an incredibly grown-up 18 year old and and a ridiculously young-at-heart 87 year old. (Think Hugh Hefner) Alternatively, there could be a totally childlike 20 year old and a wizened 30 year old. It all just depends on who meshes well. So there's another reason why it's OK to fancy older people - because it just so happens that you connect more with them than your own age group.

4. Self-esteem

Because I couldn't do this post without a picture of him.

NB: I AM NOT SUGGESTING THAT YOU SHOULD GO OUT WITH SOMEONE JUST TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL BETTER.

All I'm saying is that there must be a kind of confidence boost to be gained from being with an older person. Whether it be "wow I can't believe this person likes me" or "wow look who I've pulled", there's definitely some sort of happy feeling that you're doing something right.

This guy isn't just any run-of-the-mill guy, this is an older, wiser and more confident M&S guy.

Things to think about:

So as well as the glory of bagging/fancying an older person, there are some things I'd consider.

1. Older men v. older women

One thing I really don't understand is why it is a lot more acceptable for an older guy to be dating a younger woman than an older woman to be dating a younger man. Think of the whole idea of the term "cougar" which has now become an insult. And think of the whole Harry Styles and Caroline Flack thing.. the media pounced on it and Flack has been "terrored" for it ever since. And now think of Peter Andre (40) and Emily MacDonagh (23). There's not been much on the subject... or perhaps that's just because it's Peter Andre...

2. Number games

Here are two things which I've heard frequently used:
"The Two Year Rule" - Never go out with someone above or below this age bracket in relation to your own age.

"Men mature three years slower than women" - what it says on the tin.

(I'm not going to bang on much longer so I'll leave you to ponder those.)

3. So you're thinking about dating an older person

The one thing I would beg you to honestly ask yourself:

"Why does he/she want to go out with me?"

If you don't have an answer to that question which you could tell your nan, then scrap the whole thing off.

So there you have it. YES it's OK to fancy older people... in fact, it's completely normal. Probably more normal in fact than being attracted to a dirty 18 year old who is still at the end of this post laughing at the word "penis". Basically, all I'm saying is that it's fine either way. Just remember that with whoever you end up getting wobbly knees over, make sure you're both comfortable and in it for the same, right reasons and you can't go wrong.

That's all for now, folks.

Scaredy Cat

This post should really be called "Change" but I liked this photo too much.

So with two weeks left of life as I know it, I thought I'd get the obligatory nostalgic post out of the way.

I can't remember the last day I didn't get a knot in my stomach thinking about how soon everything I know will be over.

OK, maybe I'm being a little over-the-top but the title did grab your attention didn't it? Yes, I know it did.

Anyhow, the thought of University and beyond TERRIFIES me.

Never again will I put on a slightly-too-large uniform and rush into school to see all my friends in their slightly-too-large uniforms and complain about our slightly-too-large uniforms. I won't ever have another 9am-4pm day where I come home and count down the days to the next 18th birthday. I won't watch Glee on a Sunday evening with my mum. I won't be at school any more. I won't even be in the same half of the country any more.

After rereading the previous paragraph, I admit it doesn't seem terrifying at all. And perhaps I'm just a nostalgic and melodramatic person but I really don't like change.

Why don't people like change? Is it the worry that these are your glory days and it's never going to be as good as this ever again?

Is it because change always comes at the end of something else? So it's not the change, it's the END before the change that we hate the idea of?

Or is it the idea of having to start something new?  Perhaps we don't mind the end of something. Perhaps it's the making new friends/creating a new self-image/"the first day" syndrome that's the hard part.

Ah so many questions. And no answers. Just horrible stomach-knotting feelings.

Most of my friends can't wait to get to University... does this mean that they are less bothered about change?
It's not as if they liked school any less than me. In fact, some of the troopers have been at my school since nappies which is at least double the time I've been there.

So maybe it's not that they feel any less terrified than me.. maybe they're just less vocal about it.

So why do some people deal with change a lot better than others?

I'm sure my friends will all be having a competition on the last day of school to see who can make me cry over the most trivial thing. But why do I respond to change in a more negative way than other people? But maybe that's the point. Maybe I don't.

Maybe that's the hard thing about change: we all live individual lives, so we all have individual memories and experiences about the thing that's coming to an end, so we all feel alone and suffer slightly different stomach-knotting feelings to everyone else because we're in our own individual sad and nostalgic bubbles.

Oh look, a sad and nostalgic bubble.

Wow, it turns out writing about this is quite therapeutic.

OK, you've suffered through my selfish thoughts long enough. I promise the next post will not be so self-indulgent or bleak.

I've just counted, and I used the word maybe: (not including this time) 6 times; and the word perhaps: 3 times.

So obviously I don't actually have a clue about any of this. If you,  YES YOU, have ANY ANSWERS then PLEASE don't hesitate to contribute.

Oh dear, this whole post had been pretty useless. It's just the ramblings of a sad and nostalgic person with a knotted stomach living their life in their own sad and nostalgic bubble.

That's all for now, folks.

North from Northwest

After having a haircut this afternoon, I decided that this was a good day to start a blog.

No particular reason.

Don't worry, I'm not going to be one of those people who is pretentiously unpretentious - you know, who ever-so-casually mentions their interest in Siberian Independent film and the post-apocalyptic haiku.

I will probably just write about things that interest me.. things that interest 99.9% of the population.. things like film, music and books. I might also write about any ponderings that a ponderer might have. I like to think that with a Liverpool postcode comes scouse wit so perhaps I will try and incorporate that.

"Why are you starting a blog" I don't hear you ask.

Well, I think I'm suffering from a pre-life crisis. I turned 18 (happy birthday to me) recently and I started to think:

"By the time Babe Ruth was 19 he was playing for the Boston Red Sox; Mark Zuckerberg had commercialised Facebook; Bill Gates had co-founded Microsoft; Mary Shelley had written "Frankenstien".

Inevitably, this made me a bit depressed.

So I've started a blog.. probably to "compensate" for my lack of achievement.

The name of this post is "North from Northwest". As a potential English undergraduate, I shall proceed to do a close reading of this title.

Northwest - I live and come from the North West of England.

North - NOT LITERAL. I don't know where I'm going, but I hope I'm going "up".

"North from Northwest" - a naff homage to Hitchcock. (I like film, I like puns, I like Hitchcock.)

So at the start of my "proper" life now that I'm 18, I'd like you to accompany me for however long my whim lasts.

NB: If I ever post something that makes me sound pretentious, I can pretty much promise you that I stumbled a cross it on the tinterweb. And maybe you will stumble across my stumblings on this blog. And maybe.. just maybe.. you'll enjoy them too.

That's all for now, folks.