Looking back over the swarm of pictures and memories that made up this past year, I’ve self indulged as one can only do on a blog in looking back on all the brand spanking new things I got up to. It turned out to be quite a heck of a lot. Here’s my take on being a 21 year old in 2009…
Suggested music to accompany perusals:
OR
1) Spending my 21st birthday on the slopes overlooking Grenoble dressed in pyjamas.
2) Concluding said epic 21st celebrations with even more epic twin fight after ensuring that no Erasmus in the residential area exited my building conscious or coherent.
3) Passing an exam on the European Union by repeating exactly the same guff twice (and getting in some truly damning Daily Mail quotes on lightbulbs annoying the English along the way).
4) Drinking along to pretty much any song that repeated key words every ten seconds. Highlights: Dirty Dancing by New Kids on the Block. Low point. Hit me Baby One More Time (and yes, drink on Baby. Byebye Baby Chris.)
5) Making it on the infamous “Adults weekend” skiing with parents and assorted “ladz”. Nothing x rated at all about unless you count the calories consumed gorging on tariflette and vin chaud.
6) Discovering Maximator. The killer can of beer with a 10 per cent alcohol content. Cue pole dancing every road sign between my bedroom and the bar.
7) Doing the epic chocolate trail around gorgeous Turin. Probably the only legitimate outing where stuffing your faces with delectable Italian delights for three hours is permissible.
8) Seeing marmots emerging from their snug hibernation whilst on a chairlift at Deux Alpes on the very last day of the ski season.
9) Living the high life on the French Riviera; Nicoise ice creams mingled with petrol fumes at the Monaco Grand Prix warm up and the waft of decadence and celebrity at Cannes Film Festival. Let’s not talk about the jellyfish-meets-bikini-bottoms incident.
10) Getting Germ-y not once but twice this year. A Berlin beerfest with Rabotiens was followed by hot summer days on the Rhine with Roles in Mainz for just 2 poundS return airfare. German Karaoke is officially one of my “interests”.
11) Glastonbury-ing! From the nine hour bus journey slash immense cider pub crawl from Bristol to wellies, sunshine and pear cider surrounding the soundtrack of the summer. Dizzee, NERD, Passion Pit, Prodigy, Metronomy, Friendly Fires, Tom bloody Jones…even Gaga helped ease the rentre back on British ground. Not to mention two and a half hours of The Boss.
12) Having another 21st birthday six months after my actual anniversaire and hence hosting the hordes in rural Lancashire. Wonderful speeches and impressive efforts from all. Fab.
13) CANADA BABY. First time visiting North America and so first time for everything; from beaver tails to barrel racing, Tim Hortons to traipsing through the wilderness of the Great Lakes. Seeing raccoons. Cottaging (Canada styles). The CN Tower. Niagara. Toronto/Ottawa/Montreal/Quebec. Grenoblois reunions. The Beer Store.
14) Having probably the best lecture of my life when teacher decides to play 90s rave tunes to get us in the amphetamine spirit. Course subject? History of Drugs, natch.
15) Stopping drinking post pancreas trauma. Whilst irrational anger and late night kebab stops have ceased, immature behaviour in social situations and dancing like the best of drug addled 80s kids however, has not.
16) Becoming a work of art with the twin under the name of Damian Hirst. 8 hours of identical identities at the Pop Life Exhibition, Tate Modern, and a whole host of encounters with inquisitive art lovers/children.
17) Discovering “I’m On A Boat”. And consequently appling it to every situation possible. Actually getting on a boat in boiling Annecy in June was jizztastic to say the least.
18) Making it to the Crit final with the IEP Grenoble girl’s basketball team and being popped on in a consolatory gesture in the closing minutes. Level of carnability (that legendary combination of carnage colliding with liability levels) at Crit = immense.
19) Bouncing like some freaky puppet on strings whilst rub a dub dubbing to Loefah.
20) Commencing media domination with the start of this here blog, Twitter updates (mainly consisting of what exercise I am doing and what I am eating, suppose it is more a food diary than insightful excerpts from daily life) and began radio presenter training in the hope that one day I may become master of the fader.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Friday, 1 January 2010
Saturday, 12 December 2009
If I Had A Life, This Would Be It's Current Soundtrack
As is typical when you’re in the final throes of an unbelievably hectic final university term, replacing Topshop (read. Primark) sprees with hours spent in the library and nights out clutching a can of red bull to reading texts with a hot water bottle and pints of tea, much procrastination has occurred.
In this instance, it’s pretending that I do still have a semblance of a life beyond electronic journals and hassling people for books via the library catalogue. I’ve rounded up a few quality tunes which make me want to fling off my tatty dressing gown and slap on a few layers of warpaint before bodypopping like a fool all over somewhere with sticky floors. A girl’s got to get her kicks somewhere.
First up, British rapper Example with Won’t Go Quietly. I can only describe that my initial reaction upon hearing this was all to similar to when my eardrums were first confronted with the sheer europop genius of Infinity (Guru Josh Project). It may not be a saxophonic cheese fest but it’s loaded up on pumping beats, slightly sardonic rapping and an almost Eric Prydz tinge to it. It’s also jammed with continual climaxes that keep building to yet another slice of atmospheric, properly perfect, “modern pop’. So good I played it 15 times before breakfast.
Being a self confessed spotify addict, I can’t believe how late I’ve been in hearing about this next little gem. Sub Focus’s Could This Be Real. It’s like the 90s has been dug out of the compilation classics, dusted down and suited up in a natty little drum and bass, electro-y attire. It’s a winning combo on all fronts. There’s just something about those pounding keyboards smooshed in next to rub a dub dub bass. Lovely.
I’m not going to leave without a serious doseage of Stilton-esque cheese. NKOTB (to give them their grown up, “edgy” acroynm), rocked my socks off last year with their extremely polished production of their long-awaited (I’m serious) comeback album. Perhaps a summary of the greatest tracks on that album deserves another blog, but a lull in wikipedia trawling lead to the discovery of this opening track Click Click Click from the album, imaginatively titled The Block. It’s got dirty old American smoothie stamped all over it. Following the premise of a bloke taking pictures of his girlfriend getting ready, Donnie and co not only namedrop a whole host of camera manufacturers but pull some serious amazing shapes in the video shown below. This is an irresistible guilty pleasure that pumps with intrigue and drips with a sheen of sleaze.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
In this instance, it’s pretending that I do still have a semblance of a life beyond electronic journals and hassling people for books via the library catalogue. I’ve rounded up a few quality tunes which make me want to fling off my tatty dressing gown and slap on a few layers of warpaint before bodypopping like a fool all over somewhere with sticky floors. A girl’s got to get her kicks somewhere.
First up, British rapper Example with Won’t Go Quietly. I can only describe that my initial reaction upon hearing this was all to similar to when my eardrums were first confronted with the sheer europop genius of Infinity (Guru Josh Project). It may not be a saxophonic cheese fest but it’s loaded up on pumping beats, slightly sardonic rapping and an almost Eric Prydz tinge to it. It’s also jammed with continual climaxes that keep building to yet another slice of atmospheric, properly perfect, “modern pop’. So good I played it 15 times before breakfast.
Being a self confessed spotify addict, I can’t believe how late I’ve been in hearing about this next little gem. Sub Focus’s Could This Be Real. It’s like the 90s has been dug out of the compilation classics, dusted down and suited up in a natty little drum and bass, electro-y attire. It’s a winning combo on all fronts. There’s just something about those pounding keyboards smooshed in next to rub a dub dub bass. Lovely.
I’m not going to leave without a serious doseage of Stilton-esque cheese. NKOTB (to give them their grown up, “edgy” acroynm), rocked my socks off last year with their extremely polished production of their long-awaited (I’m serious) comeback album. Perhaps a summary of the greatest tracks on that album deserves another blog, but a lull in wikipedia trawling lead to the discovery of this opening track Click Click Click from the album, imaginatively titled The Block. It’s got dirty old American smoothie stamped all over it. Following the premise of a bloke taking pictures of his girlfriend getting ready, Donnie and co not only namedrop a whole host of camera manufacturers but pull some serious amazing shapes in the video shown below. This is an irresistible guilty pleasure that pumps with intrigue and drips with a sheen of sleaze.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Bad Lad Beyonce: Welcome to the Gun Show
The latest in drop-dead-diva offerings has just pulled up on YouTube. The devilish combination of Beyonce and Lady (go away now) Gaga just conjures up images of sleek choreography, some mild soft porn-esque gyration with hawt backing dancers and a wardrobe of outfits your Blackpool transvestites would be gagging to get their paws on.
“Videophone” offers all that and more. A lot more. As if the outrageously sexual lyrics weren’t quite titillating enough – “What, you want me naked? If you liking this position you can tape it on your video phone” – Gaga and Beyonce send out a big, fat, friendly salute to the gun toting freaks crouching in America’s extremist corners by prancing around with a whole medley of different coloured plastic guns. And bows and arrows. And a man on a target pierced through with tens of arrows. Tastefully done girls.
At completely the opposite end of the spectrum, 50 Cent does his little best to put a domestic spin on the down and dirty world of hip hop and R’n’B Beyonce’s just trawled through the mud. OK, his new song may be suggesting you get sperminated by the man himself, but there’s minimal boob shots and no poledancing in his latest vid. Even Beyonce’s ex-Destiny’s band mate Kelly Rowland turns up in best babymama form.The highlight? Toddler triplets decked out in their best little woolly jumper combos.
One word. A-DORABLE.
If this is the future of hip hop, let’s hope its Fiddy who’s pushing the pram in a cleaner, and at very least gun free, direction rather than running off on Toys R Us sponsored gun spee. Bless his cotton socks.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
“Videophone” offers all that and more. A lot more. As if the outrageously sexual lyrics weren’t quite titillating enough – “What, you want me naked? If you liking this position you can tape it on your video phone” – Gaga and Beyonce send out a big, fat, friendly salute to the gun toting freaks crouching in America’s extremist corners by prancing around with a whole medley of different coloured plastic guns. And bows and arrows. And a man on a target pierced through with tens of arrows. Tastefully done girls.
At completely the opposite end of the spectrum, 50 Cent does his little best to put a domestic spin on the down and dirty world of hip hop and R’n’B Beyonce’s just trawled through the mud. OK, his new song may be suggesting you get sperminated by the man himself, but there’s minimal boob shots and no poledancing in his latest vid. Even Beyonce’s ex-Destiny’s band mate Kelly Rowland turns up in best babymama form.The highlight? Toddler triplets decked out in their best little woolly jumper combos.
One word. A-DORABLE.
If this is the future of hip hop, let’s hope its Fiddy who’s pushing the pram in a cleaner, and at very least gun free, direction rather than running off on Toys R Us sponsored gun spee. Bless his cotton socks.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Friday, 27 November 2009
I Heart You JM
Let’s play a word association game. I say John Mayer. You say…Love Rat? Jennifer Aniston? Waste of space?
How about guitar genius, Clapton prodigy and man who puts pen to more achingly heart felt trips along a fret and back than whoever writes Leona Lewis’s stuff. What’s more, my mum loves him. Enough said.
Mayer’s fourth album, whose step by step process his hardcore fan contingent were able to track on a daily basis via his infamously mouthy Tweets, is described by the man himself as a “heartbreak handbook.” Its worth having a listen to for trying to pinpoint any snide points towards the Aniston, (“Friends, Lovers or Nothing, anyone?) and with the clue in the title, it seems theirs wasn’t the smoothest of love nests. Liberal references to warfare and combat are scattered all over the album, but if you’re looking for hardcore thrashing anger, step away.
Continuing in the vein of previous album Continuum Mayer checks into his very own Heartbreak Hotel on Battle Studies with a heart-stopping combination of dreamy, blowsy blues and softly radiating harmonies. So-laid-back-its-horizontal first single “Who Says” causes controversy as it shuffles along; Mayer’s very own “pot song”, rather than being a monument to his own bad boy-ness, seeps through the speakers with the same relaxing effect.
The real USP of this album is how Mayer can seamlessly segue from one genre to another, linked by the common theme of his breathy, heartfelt vocals and guitar solos which escalate towards emotive climaxes. He meanders down a country route with new friend Taylor Swift, who provides guest vocals on “Half of my Heart” and covers a Cream classic on “Crossroads”; the latter showcasing a step up to tight, catchy riffs and throwback to some serious seventies-esque guitar snobbery.
Highlights of the album include “Assasin”, a track that wanders from the contemplative to the caustic with spine tingling emotion, and next single “Heartbreak Warfare” which has classic Mayer stamped all over it. Ebbing guitars, marching drums and beautiful imagery ease you into a record which isn’t just your average easy listening album. It’s an education.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
How about guitar genius, Clapton prodigy and man who puts pen to more achingly heart felt trips along a fret and back than whoever writes Leona Lewis’s stuff. What’s more, my mum loves him. Enough said.
Mayer’s fourth album, whose step by step process his hardcore fan contingent were able to track on a daily basis via his infamously mouthy Tweets, is described by the man himself as a “heartbreak handbook.” Its worth having a listen to for trying to pinpoint any snide points towards the Aniston, (“Friends, Lovers or Nothing, anyone?) and with the clue in the title, it seems theirs wasn’t the smoothest of love nests. Liberal references to warfare and combat are scattered all over the album, but if you’re looking for hardcore thrashing anger, step away.
Continuing in the vein of previous album Continuum Mayer checks into his very own Heartbreak Hotel on Battle Studies with a heart-stopping combination of dreamy, blowsy blues and softly radiating harmonies. So-laid-back-its-horizontal first single “Who Says” causes controversy as it shuffles along; Mayer’s very own “pot song”, rather than being a monument to his own bad boy-ness, seeps through the speakers with the same relaxing effect.
The real USP of this album is how Mayer can seamlessly segue from one genre to another, linked by the common theme of his breathy, heartfelt vocals and guitar solos which escalate towards emotive climaxes. He meanders down a country route with new friend Taylor Swift, who provides guest vocals on “Half of my Heart” and covers a Cream classic on “Crossroads”; the latter showcasing a step up to tight, catchy riffs and throwback to some serious seventies-esque guitar snobbery.
Highlights of the album include “Assasin”, a track that wanders from the contemplative to the caustic with spine tingling emotion, and next single “Heartbreak Warfare” which has classic Mayer stamped all over it. Ebbing guitars, marching drums and beautiful imagery ease you into a record which isn’t just your average easy listening album. It’s an education.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Monday, 9 November 2009
How can I justifiably like this song?
Don’t you love the discovery of a new song it’s impossible to stop playing? Its even better when that song is about as cool as Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen on a turquoise flame striped Harley Davidson wearing pink leather and a glitter encrusted helmet. This song might just make you cringe as much as that dire mental image.
I’m not entirely sure how I made it to the grand old age of 21 without discovering the beauteous joy that is THE Michael Bolton, but hey, you’ve got to start somewhere. Since a massive essay procrastination lead to the creation of a proper Dad-rock style music playlist, my fingers haven’t stopped tapping my keyboard to the rhythmic riffs of mad ‘80s rockers with even madder ‘80s hair. The “woah woahs” are to die for, the banging drums spinetingling and the synths positively toe curling. Oh Michael.
For said playlist, charge up your spotify and have a listen. Its well good, promise.
spotify:user:mirande:playlist:0rznbF8MwM2vynUy5SRnIi
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
I’m not entirely sure how I made it to the grand old age of 21 without discovering the beauteous joy that is THE Michael Bolton, but hey, you’ve got to start somewhere. Since a massive essay procrastination lead to the creation of a proper Dad-rock style music playlist, my fingers haven’t stopped tapping my keyboard to the rhythmic riffs of mad ‘80s rockers with even madder ‘80s hair. The “woah woahs” are to die for, the banging drums spinetingling and the synths positively toe curling. Oh Michael.
For said playlist, charge up your spotify and have a listen. Its well good, promise.
spotify:user:mirande:playlist:0rznbF8MwM2vynUy5SRnIi
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Friday, 6 November 2009
Flaming Nora
I just came home from an oh-so-British evening of fun and frolics: Tar barrel burnings at Ottery St Mary, a quaint as you like village snuggled away in the hilly crevices of rural Devon.
The point of the evening is the remembrance of the 5th November, when back in the days (1605), some cheeky Catholics tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament and take King James I down with it. However, the plot was discovered and this massive fail of a terrorist plot has been marked for centuries since by bonfires all over England and weird and wonderful local traditions…which brings me back to Ottery St Mary.
This Devon village likes more than a dollop of danger with their Bonfire Night, taking the form of flaming tar barrels hoisted on the backs of strapping young locals (and a few crustier elderly specimens) who then galumph around the village through hordes of gawping tourists regardless of any ridiculous Health and Safetey regulations.
My highlight of the evening? The adrenalin rush provided when my housemates and I found ourselves cowering on the floor of a tiny lane as a maniac with flaming wood tangled in his manical grasp swung his arms around our heads. That, and a serious neck crick on the very old school Waltzer rides on the fairground.
I love Britain.
I also really really love this song at the moment. Quality chill out shizzle, bumping drums and twinkling guitars more than soothe away any recurring visions of flashing flames and approaching burning heat.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
The point of the evening is the remembrance of the 5th November, when back in the days (1605), some cheeky Catholics tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament and take King James I down with it. However, the plot was discovered and this massive fail of a terrorist plot has been marked for centuries since by bonfires all over England and weird and wonderful local traditions…which brings me back to Ottery St Mary.
This Devon village likes more than a dollop of danger with their Bonfire Night, taking the form of flaming tar barrels hoisted on the backs of strapping young locals (and a few crustier elderly specimens) who then galumph around the village through hordes of gawping tourists regardless of any ridiculous Health and Safetey regulations.
My highlight of the evening? The adrenalin rush provided when my housemates and I found ourselves cowering on the floor of a tiny lane as a maniac with flaming wood tangled in his manical grasp swung his arms around our heads. That, and a serious neck crick on the very old school Waltzer rides on the fairground.
I love Britain.
I also really really love this song at the moment. Quality chill out shizzle, bumping drums and twinkling guitars more than soothe away any recurring visions of flashing flames and approaching burning heat.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Sunday, 1 November 2009
self gratification
DISCLAIMER: The image hosted on my blog is not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
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