Mornings where you wake up all Disney...

Reader, I am having one of those mornings where I've woken up with a smile on my face. I have one really swollen eye (I don't know why but it's really sore and I look a bit like Igor) but I still feel like Ariel when she wakes up in that plush bed in Eric's castle (only I've woken up in Primark sheets and a bed covered with unpacked clothes rather than royal crests and velvet) and she does a cute yawn and bounds around like a Labrador puppy.

There may well be a few reasons for this: I've just had a stellar week that started with a lovely weekend of socialising and relaxing with the Partner In Crime and was then followed by us being guest lecturers at Falmouth University, working with passionate industry experts and inspiring students. It's also gloriously sunny this morning and I awoke to birdsong, which always puts a huge smile on my face-it feels like summer is finally starting to wake up again and I for one could not be more ready for it. What else? Well it's my birthday next week and I am terrifically excited-I'm planning to take the day itself off and sleep in and wear PJs all day (UTTER BLISS) and PIC has planned all sorts of surprises for me which no one has really managed to do before. Also my dress for the day we're going out has just arrived and it is slightly too big despite a week of terrible eating (WIN) but is also gorgeous and perfectly coloured. Tonight I'm taking my gorgeous mum to the theatre to see 'Women on The Verge of a Nervous Breakdown' for her birthday, and we always have a fabulous time when we go out! I think I also had nice dreams, because I woke up with that 'lovely sugar plums and dancing beans happened last night' feeling. I think it was something to do with the future and how delightful it's going to be, because I also had that zen, blissed sense that everything in life was going to be wonderful and sparkly.

So if you see someone with a really swollen Igor eye skipping through London singing to themselves, don't be afraid-hyperactive mutants aren't taking over the city-it's just me getting on with my day.

Hope yours is just as cheery Reader!
Ash
x

How to make cookies the Ash Acting Up way....

Step one-oversleep.

 Step two-remember that it's your friend's birthday and you decided to bake as a gift, but you don't have any ingredients in the house

Step three-frantically get ready to dash down to Asda-overdress a bit (which is what inevitably happens when I rush to get ready)

Step four-buy too much chocolate because you can't remember what the actual measures are. Also buy some peanut M&Ms and Peanut Butter Cups because they were on sale and it would have been a crime not to.

Step five-set up array of ingredients. Be smug about your vintage mixing bowl.

Step six-220g of softened butter

Step seven-200g sugar (half brown, half white) 

Step eight-cream together, also coating everything nearby in the mix. Get annoyed because you can't hear your tv show over the blender

Step nine-chuck in an egg and a splash of vanilla extract. Spill a bit on your hand. Lick it off. Regret licking it off. Make cat-licking-a-lemon faces

Step ten-get distracted by an uplifting video about old ladies (you can watch it here: http://mostamazingviews.com/two-ladies-never-plane-reactions-first-flight-hilarious/)

Step eleven- realise that you still need another egg, since you misread the instructions. Bollocks.

Step twelve-chuck in 230g plain flour. Decide that since it's wheat free flour, that makes this a very healthy recipe. 

Step thirteen-add pinch of salt from adorable Christmas themed shaker, despite it being practically summer and mid-muggiest day ever rather than December

Step fourteen-a teaspoon each Bicarb of Soda and Baking Powder. Think about doing that teeth whitening thing you read about on Pinterest. Decide not to bother as it sounds gross and you can't remember whether it was bicarb soda or baking powder that you're supposed to use.

Step fifteen-60g of coco powder. Wonder how you make coco powder. Spend 2 minutes imagining a desert of coco powder instead of sand, with mirages of liquid chocolate fountains.

Step sixteen-mix motha fudger, MIX

Step seventeen-Resist urge to eat batter

Step eighteen-Chop up more chocolate than entirely necessary. (450g in this case....mmmm...)

Step nineteen-Get bored chopping. Wonder why you didn't just buy bags of chocolate chips. Remember that bars are far cheaper and you are an impoverished actress. Resume chopping but now also dream of winning the lottery.

Step twenty-Have a 50's housewife moment as you stir in your chocolate mountain

Step twenty one-Shape into small balls and place on greaseproof paper covered baking tray. Sing 'Salty chocolate balls' under your breath and snigger. Because you have the sense of humour of a 12 year old boy.

Step twenty two-Realise that you forgot to preheat the oven. Swear more.

Step twenty three-Set oven at 190 degrees. Go have a drink while the oven heats up.

Step twenty four- Put the cookies in and go do some work while they bake (apron optional)

Step twenty five- After aprox 15 mins, retrieve first heartachingly perfect tray of cookies from oven

Step twenty six-Go to line the next tray and realise you're out of greaseproof paper. Swear.

Step twenty seven-Grease tray with 1cal spray and hope for the best

Step twenty eight-Wonder if you have potentially made too many giant cookies. Eat 3 just to even things out a bit

Right reader, I am going to go and collapse in a chocolatey mess. Have a great day, and bake well!
Ash
x
P.s. Don't forget to go check out my most recent vlog! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFj_mZCqfY

Ten reasons it's great to be closer to 30 than 20....

Reader, I am officially now in the 2nd half of my twenties. The day before my birthday, I got I.D'd (and despite my protests that I am happy to be the age I am now, the thought that I still look younger made me very happy) and I've had chocolate for breakfast twice this week, but I am quite zen at the prospect of getting closer to the big three-oh. And here's why:

10 REASONS IT'S GREAT TO BE CLOSER TO 30 THAN 20

1. Going clubbing is no longer something you are expected to do

So very much of my youth was spent enthusiastically donning teeny weenie dresses and checking I had cab fare and planning what to do when the friend who vomits and cries whenever you get drunk does the inevitable. Hell, I was even the Social Secretary of my Drama Society for a year. And I'd always be eyeing up my bed, thinking 'If only I could stay in and eat Thai food whilst watching episodes of Buffy instead'. But I'd shove my thoughts to the back of my head, because I WAS YOUNG. And young people must go and live and dance and get drunk and do all of the silly things! Now don't get me wrong-I loved going out with my friends. I still do! But clubbing is something I rarely feel the need to indulge in. You can't hear your friends, a sweaty dude in a bad suit grinds up against you and by the end of the night you've spent more than you would have on this month's council tax bill. And because you're a bit older, hangovers are SO MUCH WORSE. Now that you're closer to 30, you can leave all that nonsense to the young uns and go sit in a pub or in a nice cocktail lounge. You can dance at the inevitable million weddings you'll be invited to and no one will judge you for not knowing the moves to the latest X-factor winner's song. Or you can stay at home and not wear any make up at all whilst you watch Saturday Night Live and eat Boursin out of the foil.

2.    You don't have to follow anyone else's rules

You know when you're 20? And you're living with your parents and they say 'Wash up your dishes before you've eaten' and you say 'But then my food will get cold!' and they tell you that you are living in their house so must abide by their rules? Or when you get a 'wake up call' from your mum at 8am on a Saturday? Or when you don't do something because you think people wouldn't approve and you worry what they'd think of you? When you get a bit older, you just think 'Sod it' and do whatever you want to do. Like staying in bed till 3 on a weekend watching American true crime shows or wearing a boob-tastic dress. (Living away from your parents helps a great deal with this). You just sort of stop giving a damn. 

3.    You get taken more seriously

You know what's really strange? When I was 21 and had just come out of University, people would ask me what I wanted to do as a career. I'd say 'Act' and they'd laugh at me. Now, people ask me what I do, and I say 'Act' and they get all impressed and ask lots of questions. And they listen to what I have to say like I'm actually an expert on the subject. Younger people ask you for advice. Elderly people don't think you're a threat to society. It's all rather nice.

4.    You have way more confidence

At 18 I was a size 8 with E cup boobs and hair halfway down my back. And I have never been so lacking in confidence. I was convinced that I was King Kong ugly and had an abnormal body compared to everyone else. And I did not know how to talk to boys in any way that wasn't jokingly insulting them or stammering a great deal. Now, I don't even care. I am fatter. I have more wrinkles. I have cellulite and some seriously cray bags under my eyes. But if I fancy someone I can flirt my bum off. And when I feel good, I STRUT. Because it is only going to get worse from here on out. Also, I increasingly realise that beauty and sexiness isn't about being tiny and perfect, it's about loving yourself and allowing others to love you. Fo sho. Sure I still have ugly days, where I try and avoid anyone seeing me but my wonderful housemate (who would love me even if I shaved my head and tattooed my face with the lyrics to The Ketchup Song) but most of the time I just don't care. It's more fun to like yourself and assume others do too and work it. Baybeee. (on a side note, if you need to feel sexy, pretend you're on set and someone is filming you for an underwear advert and yelling out 'work it! Move that thang! Shake what ya mama gave ya!' It may not make you feel like Kate Moss, but it is much fun.)

5. You understand that food is freakin' good, and most of your social events now revolve around it

'Shall we go for drinks?' 'NO let's go for cake!' You realise that you're attracted to men based on how much you can eat in front of them without them judging you. I realised how much I liked the guy I'm  dating when he was IMPRESSED when I ordered two kinds of carbs to go with my pulled pork. A number of my friends are currently on bridal diets and this means that I am often the only one at the table with food that is not green and leafy. I care not for this. When people come to my flat, they know that they will be fed. Sometimes they even leave with packed lunches. When people don't offer me snacks when I visit, I tend to be shocked and appalled (although, let's face it, this could be down to the Irish heritage and our obsession with food based hospitality)

6.  You can still do something wild and not have it be attributed to a midlife crisis or young person hi-jinks

Want to go work in another country for a year? Do it. New tattoo? Fab. Making out with someone entirely inappropriate? You go, you wild thang. Re-building a car? Go Greased Lightning.

7.  You can spend your money how you want to

I spend mine on cheese. And 50's dresses. And 2nd hand books. BECAUSE I CAN. 

8.   You know how to get crap done

You know what I did this year that I'm really proud of? I changed the light pull in my bathroom because the old one was grubby. You know what I would have done when I was younger? Let that thing rot off its string. I wash out my kitchen bin every fortnight and I empty my hoover when it stops working as well. I renew my Spotlight membership ahead of time and I've even planned what my next tattoo is. Procrastination? SUCK IT. I do stuff now that I didn't even know had to be done when I was younger. Like council tax. And making a file for my household forms. BOOM. Which means there are less nasty surprises. And when you're an actor/writer and earn very little, that makes life a lot easier!

9. You don't have to follow fashion anymore

Let's be honest-I've never really been a fashionista. I know what suits me, and that's well structured dresses and vintage prints. Jeans don't look wonderful on me, tulip skirts are my idea of hell and you can keep anything neon or acid coloured far from my eyeline. When I was younger I would try my hardest to do the whole fashion thing, but now I just buy things I actually like. Which means I have bypassed the whole pink coat thing that was so big this year (reminds me of my nan) and laugh gaily as I pass dungerees on the rack at H&M (I had a pair when I was 15 which I wore to V fest with a red bikini and Doc Martins. Never again.) Saying that, apparently frumpy, comfy clothes are coming back in fashion. In this case I may well become an avid follower of the catwalk. Pass me the slanket and my knee high socks. I am ON IT. 

10.  Dating is really great. No, but seriously.

I love dating. Dating when I was younger meant either awkwardly going to the cinema and avoiding eye contact (age 17) or going over to their house to make out under the pretense of watching films (age 18-22). The second one still happens, but dating when you're closer to thirty seems to be way more-for want of a better word-datey. I've been taken to swanky cocktail bars, to hip eateries, to concerts and recently bowling and on a ghost tour of London (SO AWESOME). You actually go on proper dates! And if you choose to go home with your date, or invite them back, no one judges you! Recently a 27 year old friend called me and told me about her amazement when she went on a date with a 23 year old and he not only hadn't planned anything for the date but then also said she couldn't stay over because 'it would be awkward with his housemates in the morning.' Erm...what?  The nice thing about dating later in your 20's is that not only are the dates more fun, because you both have slightly more money and can therefore afford to do exciting things, but you are also more honest. None of this pretending you're just mates till you have a snog nonsense. Also, you still get to talk to your mates about it afterwards and giggle like teenagers. Only this time, you do it over mimosas in a swanky bar. AWESOME. 

So yeah. Don't worry about getting older Reader. It's pretty darn groovy.

Ash

x

Women, ladies, girls....

Morning Reader! Gosh, it's a nasty cloudy ol' day in London-the sky is so grey it looks brown. But I am in a great mood. Why am I so smiley? Because over the next week many wonderful things are happening!

First off, it's my birthday week. Last year, my birthday was a wash out, I was so unwell that I had to cancel my birthday party and ended up on my sofa feeling very very sad instead of wearing a fabulous dress and seeing all my lovely friends. This year, I am going to dance on a BOAT. On the THAMES. And it shall be lovely. My real birthday (Tuesday) falls on Shrove Tuesday. Which is a brilliant excuse to eat pancakes. Then, on the 8th of March, my wonderful parents are taking me out to celebrate. And it's International Women's Day!

Now, normally IWD creeps up on me, and then I see it on Twitter and give a half hearted 'Whoop, I have a womb'. This year, which has been a year of seeing the incredible women in my life go from strength to strength, I'm actually going to mark it by making a couple of vlogs about being a woman.

Here's the first of the vlogs, which was inspired by beautiful-inside-and-out spoken word poet Natalie Patterson about 10 things every woman should know:CLICK HERE FOR VLOGGY GOODNESS

If you go back through my archives you can also find some blogs about being a woman:

What does it mean to be a woman

The Good Girl Dichotomy 

My Womb Is Not Marked With Your Name Sir

And also, please go and check out the work of wonderful feminist photographer Hannah Nagle, who at 19 years of age takes incredible photos and is a generally awesome lady:FOR PRETTY PICTURES CLICK HERE

Anyway, that's all for now folks,
Have a delightful day, wherever you are!
Ash
x

Diving into my late twenties....

Reader, it is my birthday next week. I am about to slip into the second half of my twenties. My friends assure me that you are only in your late twenties when you hit 28, but even so, it's a little bit of a shock given I'm almost certain I was only 14 yesterday (see picture below).

                                                   
The thing is, when you're younger, each birthday passing is another landmark moment. The first time you can legally vote, have sex, smoke, drink, enter an over 21's club. Then suddenly, your 'landmark' birthdays don't mean 'hey, you can do this now!' but rather 'oooh, should you REALLY be doing that still?'

My lovely curly housemate wrote this blog entry about things we are too old for which is very funny and interesting and you should most definitely go and read. And it got me thinking about some things that I shouldn't still do at the ripe old age of twentyfivebutalmosttwentysix (see picture below) but still do. So here is my list of...   

Things I shouldn't do at my age but that I still do anyway

(yeah, I realise that is a remarkably long title, but oh blooming well!)

1. Leave my make up on when I go to sleep sometimes

Yeah yeah. I know. It's horribly bad for my skin and probably the cause of the couple of spots on the tip of my nose. My skin is screaming at me when I do this, like a kettle. Or an angry monkey. Or something of that ilk. But when you're sharing a bed with someone (particularly someone of the  

opposite sex) is it not much better for them to see you looking all smudgy and Brigitte Bardot like rather than a bit shiny and vaguely hag-like of a morning? I know some will say to me 'but Ash, when you take your make up off you will look all fresh and vibrant of the morning and less like Ke$ha!' To which I laugh at them. A lot. Because without make up, I do not look fresh. I look like a 12 year old with bags under her eyes. Sometimes I also leave my make up on just because I can't be bothered. Which means spending a lot of money on anti-aging stuff seems silly, but I don't do it often enough to really bugger up by face. I hope. (When I need a face lift, feel free to throw this back at me though)

      2. Wear tights with skull and crossbones on

I'm a pirate till DEATH mo fos. Deal with it. Or walk the plank

      3. Eat chocolate frosting right from the tin

I'm at an age where losing weight is a lot harder. Yet ignoring the calories on the tin and just digging in with a large spoon is one of the greatest delights ever. It's just wonderfully indulgent and naughty and messy and makes me very happy. Same goes for Nutella (which I can't stand on toast but love straight out of the jar)

       4. Drink more than I should

As my dear friend Jon said in a recent vlog on what boys find unattractive, my drink limit is one drink. But I think my limit is a whole bar of drinks. So I end up doing really stupid, juvenile things. Like stroking Tom Hiddleston then running away before he turns around, or kissing very young men, or falling over, or talking far too much for my own good and having to hide under my bed for a long time. You'd think that at my age, after so very many ridiculous drunken nights, I would finally have got the hint. But no. I still forget that I am a complete lightweight occasionally and try and keep up with rugby players and very large men. And it never ends well for me! Last time I was so hung over I was in bed till 5pm the next day! So I have decided to stick to a 3 drink rule from now on. Apart from on my birthday. Obviously. 

     5. Watch sitcoms instead of the news

When will I be grown up enough to want to watch the news please? I still have no desire to and end up watching repeats of New Girl or How I Met Your Mother or Episodes instead...I do have quite a good idea of what's going on in the world, but that is more down to watching the Vice channel on YouTube really...

    6. Watch cartoons

Adventure Time is one of the greatest things ever. And I love it with all my heart. I think part of me wants to be Marceline The Vampire Queen really. 

    7. Go to my mum when I need to cry

Sometimes, I need to cry. But I am a grown up lady with a grown up life, so I just don't have the time. So I fabricate an excuse to go to my mum's house and inevitably she can tell there is something wrong because she has terrifying powers of deduction (or can see my bottom lip quivering). All she needs to say is 'Are you ok?' or 'What's wrong?' and it's like a tap has been turned on and suddenly I can cry and cry and get all of the rubbish out of my emotional pipes. And being an awesome mother, she gives me a hug, plonks me in front of the telly, and makes me laugh. At 25 years old, you'd think I would have found a way to work through my emotions by myself, but she is still the greatest sadness-unclogger I've ever found.

     8. Eating and Drinking stuff aimed at kids

On a date a little while ago, I had a slush puppy. A red and blue mixed one. It tasted like it had been flavoured with acid, but it was AWESOME. I occasionally buy chicken nuggets and I currently have cookies in my freezer. When the rest of the table is ordering something really nutritiously balanced, like chicken salad, I am ordering cheesy pasta with chips. When I see cupcakes, my eyes get all big and sparkly like in a Japanese cartoon. And giant gummy worms are one of my most favourite things. 

   9. Shy away from talking about the serious stuff

I can do it with other people. If they have a problem, I am there to help, with tissues and tea and concern and lots of great advice and patience. When it comes to me, I hate having to talk about the serious things. Talking about money makes me want to hide, as does having to have actual grown up relationship conversations. Whenever I think I'm in trouble, I delay talking to that person for as long as possible (even if I haven't actually done anything wrong and am in the right!). I can't stand confrontation, I despise talking on the phone because I know I won't be able to pull silly faces and distract people. I have gotten a lot better at the whole 'serious conversations' thing, but when it comes to stuff that is very personal in a negative way, I behave like a child and hide wherever I can. Which is weird, because professionally I'm great at discussing the hard stuff-in fact, people tend to be a bit shocked if they see me in work mode compared to personal mode because I'm not afraid to say the things that need to be said, and can be quite brusque! Whereas in 'real life' I'll be found hiding beneath my hair...

   10. Being scared of the dark

I used to be so scared of the dark that I would go to sleep every night with the light on. Then I was in a relationship for 4 and a half years, and having someone in bed with me meant that I could turn off the lights and feel totally safe. This may have been due to my night terrors and the fact that he was very good at dealing with them, but I got used to sleeping with the light off and it got to the point that I couldn't sleep with any light in the room. Now I've been out of a relationship for about eight months, and the fear has come back a bit. But now the problem is that I can't sleep with any lights on. But I'm also a bit irrationally scared of the shadows in my room. The solution I've found to this is to turn off the light, then bring the duvet above my head. Because obviously monsters and ghosts can't get through duvets.

Despite all of this, I am actually quite looking forward to turning twenty six. I'm at a great place in my life. I get to do the career of my dreams, I live with one of my besties, I have a lovely relationship with my parents and I've met some amazing, wonderful people in the last year or so. My twenty fifth year has been dramatic, painful, ever changing and scary as well as exciting, beautiful, funny and breathtaking. It's been the most intense year of my life so far. And if I can deal with that I can deal with anything. So year number twenty six? Come at me bro. (So long as I can have a slush puppy on hand as well)

Tarrah Reader!

Ash

x

The first of many

Reader, I have about 6 blog entries I need to write. This is mainly my own fault for not writing one for so long, but then between trying to earn money, looking after my family, keeping my relationship in a happy place and feeding my ever growing Pinterest addiction, there hasn't been much time for typing up my thoughts and ideas. But I have realised that when I don't write them down, they are a lot harder to keep coherent in my brain, so I shall make much more of an effort to update weekly. Apologies for the long absence. Again.

So...updates!

The week before last was ridiculously full. Maybe I should make headings? That way I won't end up just mixing everything up in a big haze of bleh. Here goes..

Buffy on a big screen


So the lovely (and jaw droppingly young to be so wise) SJ had a birthday. As she works in a cinema, I found myself spending my Sunday night dressed as a geek in oversized glasses watching one of my childhood  favourites, Buffy 'Once more with feeling' (AKA the musical episode for those not acquainted with the series) on a big screen. Along with people dressed as Hans Solo, Lol Cat, My Drunk Kitchen and that masked guy from Watchmen whose name I can't spell (Rawshak? Raushack? Bollocks. I could look it up, but it's almost more fun not knowing.) Bloody brilliant. It reminded me of how good a role model Buffy (and indeed the majority of women in the series) is for young girls. I feel a bit sorry for the current generation of tweens actually. I mean...they have Bella in Twilight. I had a kick ass teenage vampire slayer. Who still found time to look after her mum and sister and do her homework. And choose bad men, not because they intrigued her with their sparkly male enigma-ness, but because if they took a step out of line, she was perfectly capable of breaking their pretty little necks. And because they were pretty (Oh Spike! Be still my beating heart! That awful accent....that gelled peroxide hair!) On reading The Hunger Games of late though, I was struck by the thought that Katniss kicks quite a bit of bum too. But there are only three books. Ideally, we need a weekly TV show with a strong female role model. I want my 8 year old cousin Daisy to aspire to fight her own battles, not to hope she'll be rescued in the nick of time by some randomer on a horse...

Retraining


Because the lovely fruit and veg account I was on at work has suddenly and unexpectedly downsized (major bummer), I spent much of the week before last training to go back on wines. I very nearly died of dull. It's not that the subject matter is boring, on the contrary, I'm actually quite into finding out about stuff like that. It's more that I did the exact same training nearly a year ago. And although it's very much needed, it was all stuff that in my heart of hearts, I knew. So although my brain needed to hear it so it could remember, it was also going 'uber yawn...I've HEARD this before!' I'm hoping that soon I'll get a nicely paid acting job that will take me away from the dreaded phonelines for a few months at least. Or maybe I'll get a promotion so I'll have to talk to people on the phones less. I am quite possibly developing a phobia of talking on the phone, having worked at the office for a year (in between various acting projects). Going away for four months to do my tour actually made it harder to come back I think! Having done something I adore for so long, going back to the daily monotony of phoning people was like going back to jail after a holiday in the sun. And speaking of holiday in the sun...

Holiday


An exciting thing has happened! I've just booked my first ever holiday with just me and The Lad (apart from our two nights in a dodgy Britannia hotel in Brighton last year, which was lovely, but more mini-break than holiday). In September we'll be spending a whole week in sunny Cyprus, eating nice food, lounging by a pool, dozing in the sun, frolicking in the sea and generally hanging out. I am so excited that I've already started making a list of the perfect holiday capsule wardrobe. It will be a short list since I'm only allowed to bring hand luggage, but I feel this means it's essential to get planning early. I'm even getting a Kindle so I can bring loads of books and not have to worry about not having room for clothes! Can't wait!

Film festival


A film I made got featured in The East End Film Festival! And people seemed to like it! There was applause and everything! There was a bit of a scary minute when my sex scene came on (I'm always worried I'll overhear someone talking about how mad my sex face/noises are in it) but everyone seemed to just take it as part of the film. And no one noticed me giggling nervously into my shirt and hiding my face while it was being shown, so I didn't look too uncool. Hopefully. There were so many great shorts that night, it made me really excited about the short I'm writing at the moment, about which you'll probably hear quite a bit more over the next year or so, but for now, I'm keeping mum.

Dreams


Coming back to the callcentre has made my dream life go crazy. At the moment I'm having vivid dreams every night about everything from primary school, to exploring alien planets, to cooking, to The Lad, to family, to little ruby babies with rabbit ears, to castles in the sky, to eco systems and worlds based around having water fountains everywhere, to weddings (of which I will be attending a lot next month), to acting, to poems by Blake, to dragons with opal stone scales. I'm not complaining because they're brilliantly interesting dreams, but they're a bit mad. It's like my daily working life is so boring now that my dream life has to be super interesting in comparison. Lets hope soon I have an acting job I can flood it all into!

Spiderman


I saw Spiderman. I kind of expected to hate it. But I loved it. I cried. Rhys was brilliant and green. I'm a little in love with Andrew Garfield right now (super strong, super cute, has big eyes and floppy hair, brings you flowers and stutters a little? Erm....yes please. Also, his and Emma Stone's on screen kisses look HAWT). On a less teenage crushy level, Garfield is a great actor. I saw him years ago at the National playing an American kid thrust into a massacre abroad and he was off the charts brilliant. He gives Spiderman something that I felt Toby Magwire lacked, a kind of teenage boy appeal that is very truthful (despite him actually being older than me). He gets bruised and battered, he can't form words without a slight lisp appearing, he walks like he's only just shot up to six foot whatever and still isn't used to it and he has a charming teenagey clumsiness to him. And Aunt May! She's so much more interesting in this film. In the last set, I always felt like she was a very 2D image, in this film they don't offer huge amounts of back story to her, but the relationship between her and her husband is so real and silly and touching that the tragedy (trying not to spell it out for anyone who somehow doesn't know what happens) is a huge blow when it actually happens. The mystery surrounding Peter's parents was also great and left me wanting more. The inevitable Stan Lee cameo was hilarious. In fact, the only thing I didn't like about the film was the teaser after the credits. It felt poorly structured and rather than exciting me about the next film (as the Avengers teaser did) it felt like an unnecessary nod to the fact that they still hadn't rounded off the narrative. Apart from that, damn fine show.

Fringe


I have a fringe now.

I guess that's about it for now! Hopefully there will be another post from me tomorrow eve, quite possibly about the family day I'm going to be having!
Tarrah Reader!
Ash
x

Growing pains...

Reader, today is my birthday. I have been spoilt within an inch of my life, fed more cheese than the average French person sees in a lifetime and surrounded by glorious pressies. Tonight, I will be feasting on Dominos pizza, whilst watching 30 Rock and going through my facebook messages in what can only be described as an act of delicious vanity. Life is rather marvellous right now.

I was struck the other night  (whilst packing Baklava into my cheeks like a sweet toothed hamster) that the way I celebrate my birthday has changed rather a lot since I was in my late teens. I can only assume I've grown up somehow (meaning the man in the market lied and these magic beans don't hold back the years like he said they would...), a scary thought indeed. So, here is my list of what's changed and what hasn't between how I partied then and how I party now...

1. I no longer find it entirely necessary to compete with sports society boys in alcohol intake. In fact, I'm quite happy with one glass of amaretto on my birthday, because at least then I know I won't a) do anything hideously cringe like vomit over the bouncers or proposition the cardboard cut out of Zac Effron in the Blockbusters window or b) have an utterly catastrophic hangover the next day, which (as my tolerance for booze has got so crap) would have me comatose, able only to reach as far as a bag of Doritos.

2. I am more likely to get vouchers for posh clothes and pampering places rather than WHSmiths. Hurrah!

3. Food has become more important, as I am more likely to be eating healthily the rest of the time.

4. I can afford nicer food! Like fresh pasta instead of supernoodles. And baklava instead of slightly stale asda cookies.

5. Birthdays have become more like New Year's Eve, in that I evaluate how the year's gone and how I want the next year to go. This year I am quite disgustingly smug.

6. I am a bit fatter now than I was then. But thinner than I was when I was twenty. Which is nice.

7. I can no longer stay up all night without needing a serious afternoon nap (or two) the next day. Although I did stay up till 4am on Friday, mainly to watch an utterly atrocious Jude Law film, that was also rather brilliant (mainly because it was so bad, but also because Jude Law is a dreamboat).

8. I have a boyfriend now (take that younger me!)

9. A vast number of my pressies involve kitchenware. I can only take this as a hint to make more cake.

10. My wishlist is more expensive, and more ignored.

11. My little brother gets me far better pressies now. (He got me 4 utterly brilliant DVDs this year, and a proper card! Not just 'happy birthday' written on a post it!)

12. I am less likely to want to go out for my birthday. I will only really go out to our local Italian, where they deep fry Brie and are therefore worthy of my birthday presence. I would go out if it was an exciting surprise or something, but defo not clubbing in London. Anything but. I get too pissed off with the prices, the music and the grimy men trying to grind on me. 'Can I buy you a drink?' 'That depends, will you try to sleep with me after?' 'Uhm....no?' 'Are you sure?' 'Uhm...' 'That girl over there looks single. Go try her. She has a see through top.'

13. House parties seem like hell. Avoid at all costs.

14. No one is free to party on a weekday any more. Everyone has jobs, and husbands (eek!)

15. I no longer have an overdraft (YESSSSS!!!)

So, quite good changes I'd say. Even though to my 18 year old self, I'd probably seem boring, I don't really care! I love my birthdays, lazy and food obsessed though they may be!
Hope you're having a weekend as lovely as I am Reader,
Ash
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In which The Lad gets older....

It's a special day today Reader, because The Lad is turning 23. Finally he will be the same age as me (so I won't feel like quite such a cradle snatcher). This may mean that he comes home wearing a suit, talking about his shares in the plastic industry and worrying about a pension and varicose veins, but that's quite unlikely. What's more likely is that he'll come home, get very excited about the prospect of the novelty cake I've made (the theme of which I'm keeping a secret till he sees it, but will post a pic later), glue himself to his Xbox (Skyrim arrived today-there goes my relationship...) and talk about pokemon. He may at some point try to tickle me till I wee a little bit (let's hope not, I hate being tickled) and will go to bed fully clothed like he did the other night (tirednenss? Coldness? I have no idea.).

Tomorrow night we're going to a rather groovy place called The Breakfast club and having lots of cocktails. I'll buy us something cheese covered to eat (or rather, I'll buy HIM something cheese covered. I may have something like that if my weigh in goes to plan, but if not, I'll just stick to the booze). A group of our lovely friends will be coming and hopefully a fabulous night will be had by all. And then the next day, we're playing board games (am slightly concerned he may force us to play the Pokemon game my parents got him, but am hopeful I can distract him with the prospect of snacks). He's quite spoilt really, but given that the poor sod is working 6 day weeks till Christmas, I reckon he quite deserves a bit of spoiling.

You may have noticed I mentioned a weigh in...that's right, I'm trying to lose a couple of cakes worth of lbs. Not so much because I'm lardy at the moment, more because I'm very aware Christmas is coming up, and I'm planning to eat pretty much the whole contents of Marks and Spencers. Particularly their chocolate covered cherries. Christmas has always been about family, cosiness and eating frankly shocking amounts for me, and this year will be no different. In fact, I bet there'll be some competition between me and The Lad on who can eat the most, given that this year will be the first we'll be spending together (am I excited? Yes. Am I a little bit sad that this means I'll have to share my quality street? Yes.). Last year, I got so carried away by mince pies, I had a tiny bit of a melt down the week before christmas when I realised I couldn't fit my arse in a coveted christmas outfit, so this year, I've promised myself that I'll only truly pig out the week of Crimbo. Which means aerobics classes till then, and portions my great grandmother would have spat at. Fun.

So what else is happening? I got made a team leader at work (yay!) which basically means that they trust me to keep people entertained and buy lots of glitter covered signs for our pod (we already have paper chains, a paper snow mountain range and a glittery christmas sign and that's only the beginning. Someone asked me if I wanted to be a kids tv presenter the other day because of all my d.i.y decs!). It's a bit exhausting, means that I have a whole lot less free time now as I spend my mornings buying prizes for competitions and have to come in early for meetings, and I stay late at work making sure everything is properly put away. I feel a bit like a hyperactive mother from the fifties, passing round biscuits and making sure everyone has a nice time. I'm hardly rock and roll sadly, but ah well!

Right loves, I'm off to put on a wash, since most of my clothes are now covered in flour,
Bye!
Ash
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Old old old I'm so very very old

Reader, BLB (Bratty Little Brother for those new to the blog) is today 18 years of age. He has been wandering round the house in a state of what can only be described as shock. But I don't think he can be any more shocked than the rest of us!

You see folks, BLB has turned out rather well. He's about to sit his final exams at college (and great things have been predicted for his results), he's got offers from all of the uni's he applied to, he's got a girlfriend who is also in education and he's very polite to old people. He even washes occasionally. This is amazing. Why? Well, this was not a future we envisioned for 4 year old BLB.

4 year old BLT was a demonic hell child, made all the worse by the fact that he had the face of an angel, with his big blue eyes, white hair and rosy cheeks (complete with dimples Reader, DIMPLES!). You'd look at him and think 'Aww, what a sweet child!' He'd smile sweetly at you and you'd get tricked into approaching. Five minutes later, you'd be nursing a bleeding bitten hand, he'd have smashed some prized ornaments and be screeching on the floor, wiping his snotty nose on the carpet, his face roughly the colour of a slightly over-ripe tomato. And it probably all stemmed from you mentioning Marks and Spencers or Tesco. BLB was not a fan of large shops. Or indeed, any shops, apart from toy shops or the local newsagent where we used to spend our 50p a week pocket money on pick n mix. BLB did not like the world. He was quite convinced that the world, in fact, was out to get him, and it was as if he decided to get the world first. Nothing could please him *and oh god did we try*. We gave him a Nintendo. He got angry when he didn't understand the games at once and hurled the controller across the floor in a fit of fury. We took him to Disneyworld (every child's dream!) and he got an unexpected bout of homesickness and shouted every day 'I wanna go back to the house with the chimney!'  He also hated every ride with the exception of the Star Wars one (no child was as obsessed with Star Wars than BLB and he made us go on it 3 times). He got frightened by Pluto and screamed at the poor man in the suit as if he was a demon sent from hell to reclaim him. He got given the lead role in his christmas nursery play but when it came time for him to go on stage screamed 'NOOOOOOO' and sulked behind the curtains.We got him a really cool space style bunk bed. He hated it and slept on the floor. BLB was, to put it mildly, a difficult child.

Saying that, it has made for some seriously hilarious memories, which tonight, when we go out for his birthday meal, I am in no doubt we will tell to one another and fall about in hysterics, as we always do on evenings out. And thank God, we can now, because he has gone from being the demon child from hell to a very fun to be around teenager, who's great at taking the piss out of himself and others, is very witty and political, polite to old people and charming to strangers and who lets his family tell all those awfully embarrassing stories without getting too huffy. Plus, he was actually quite cute as a kid, like the time in Disneyworld he got star struck by Mickey mouse and hugged his leg and wouldn't let go. And when he'd fall asleep with his plastic builder's belt on. Or maybe that's just the rose tinted spectacles of hindsight!

So on that note, I wish my BLB a happy 18th and say goodbye dear Reader
Till next time!
Ash
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