Creamfields

2 of the stages before the rain

I think it's fair to say without exagerrating, that the last few days have been the craziest of my life. Spontinaity is a really important part of living, and one that I strive to gain more of, being someone who's OCD is planning and organizing every minute of my time just for that comfortable feeling of knowing what's happening next. But the thing is, when a plan goes wrong, you're either left flustered having to handle an unexpected turn, disappointed that things didn't work out how they should have, or pleasantly surprised with the new outcome. The latter doesn't seem to happen too often, so I tend to end up disappointed or constantly buzzed in a heated attempt to follow my plan through. Spontinaity allows for no future thought or image - change excites humans, it's part of our nature to look for new and exciting things giving us that rush of adrenaline to feed off of. This weekend was like a tropical adrenaline storm, it just kept going with a force that didn't stop.

While the mud was shallow

Running around London day after day was getting tiring, and an email from a friend that I'd met once on a crazy night in KL, offering me an all expenses paid for ticket to 'Creamfields' (the biggest druggy techno-house-trance festival in England) caused my light bulb to ping straight away. I accepted on a whim, sorted out my shifts with the excuse of 'my cousin's last minute weekend wedding in Scotland' and picked up sleeping bags off a friend. Within a few days, a familiar face arrived at the door looking bedraggled after a 12 hour flight from Malaysia. The familiarity of having someone around that had shared the same life as me, was so relieving. It was so nice not feeling alienated or stuck behind a culture barrier. We spent three days in London, cooking, chatting, bunning and food shopping.

Taken by 'Example' during his show :)

The day of the festival finally arrived, we'd planned to have a full nights sleep before our adventure began but being the teenagers that we are, our heads hit the pillow at about 3am, giving us a good long 3 hours of rest before the alarm shrilled. Jumping out of bed in a state of pure dillusion, we showered, changed and grabbed our countless bags, dragging them down the pavement to the tube station at 6.30am. It's funny how easy it is to take a wrong turn when you're tired, and how much it affects your journey -- by the time we got to the station to catch our 7.30am train, it was 11.00am and 3 trains had since passed. In-between buying coffee to keep our eyes open, and conversing with his other two friends who had also missed their train, we managed to figure out that we could catch the next train at 11.30 and still get there on time. Luckily, unlike our friends, we didn't have to pay any extra costs for our mistake - we did however get moved back from first class to third, cramped up with our sleeping bags and boxes of rice-cakes in the corner of 'carriage F' - oh well.

We get to Creamfields, all we see are rolling hills, and hundreds of people with welly's and bags looking bright, colourful and ready for an amazing time. We could already hear the beats of Calvin Harris and David Guetta in the background, only serving to raise the anxiety levels to storm through the queue's and get to where we needed to be. We ran into a few road-blocks on the way to our destination but managed to get around them somehow (I tell you, having boobs in this day and age makes life so much easier). We amazingly got through the police checks, sniffer dogs and ID men without having ID or sober suitcases on us, and we made our way up the muddy path towards the campsites. We were in luxury camping, meaning hot showers, 'nice loos', set-up tents, airbeds and a short walk to the main arena's. It took us an hour to realize none of us had any sense of direction, and 2.5 hours later we had trudged through knee-high mud with our bags, having explored every campsite, arena and food-stall until we finally reached the tangerine fields - luxury camping. We walked passed funky heart shaped huts with wooden floors and beds (1k for a weekend) and sighed. Our 2 bedroom tent wasn't too shabby though, we lit up and lay down after our tedious journey, thankful to have finally arrived, at 6pm.

The crowd <3

We cleaned ourselves up (wet wipes ftw), got into festival gear and set out to join the crowds. The moment the magic kicked in everything went in fast forward, I felt like I was walking on an airport escalator, zooming through crowds and music -- the world spun out of control and the lights and colours carried us to a state of bliss. Nothing can really compare to live music, huge top quality speakers, the buzz of the crowd and the passion for the music, it went on till sunrise through the pouring rain and freezing gales. People's bones were literally aching due to the cold; body heat and dancing was frostbites only alternative.

Above and Beyond

Waking up in the morning all you could hear were mutters of 'is it cancelled? It's flooded. No Dedmau5. Everyone's leaving'. We poked our heads into the ongoing rain to ask what was going on -- sure enough, nature had got its own on technology and the sound equipment was all completely under-water. An intoxicated girl had fallen face-first into the mud and drowned, a man had shot someone in the head with his rifle, and about 20,000 people were all making their way towards the exit doors. Chaos.

Silent disco

Those of us who decided to stay, breathed in the opportunity with a smile. 80% of people leaving meant: Free food, free tents, free beds, sleeping bags, mats and chairs. We managed to move into a huge tent, we each had our own room, bed, (packeted) food supply and dry area - it was heaven. The clouds moved on and the sun came out at the same time as bikini's, shorts and glasses did -- the rest of the day was spent in a blazed wave, lying on mattresses in the sun.
By night, the mood had shifted. The vibe was so intense, this was the night everyone was planning on going wild. Substances, music, people, colours, everything was out in the open. The next few hours were like the first night, times a million. Hundreds of us raving on hills in the middle of nowhere. Everyone's eyes equally wide as we soaked in the atmosphere - we each met about 50 new people, heard a million new stories and tried a million new things. There was nothing to lose, no one cared what they looked like or sounded like, it was all about the love. The sun rose for the last time and we all sat huddled up, holding hands for body-warmth in the biggest tent we could find, still moving to the music. We packed in a half-daze and caught the last bus to the little town of 'Warrington' with a new group of friends we'd met the night before.

The rain took over.

We all walked into civilization together, feeling the cold-hard stares as people awed at our muddy, bedraggled and homeless appearances. From nature to cement, shops, and warmth - it felt so strange. Mothers directed their children away from us and we just stared in awe at how clean everything looked. We soon found heaven; the waitresses at Nando's hurried us in in a motherly manner, taking our bags off and sitting us down at their two biggest tables. We ate in a comfortable silence appreciating the hot food and the warm room.

We sat outside and rolled a  last celebratory joint. It made the realization that we'd missed three trains, again, less-stressful. We eventually sauntered over to the train station - this time, our seats had been degraded from first class to the carriage in which we sat squashed up on the floor with about 15 bags around us. At that point, nothing mattered, and we lay back on whatever was behind us, and fell asleep. London was a trip to return to - Carnival had just finished and it was feathers and glitter galore.. we walked through the craziness and finally got to what we'd been waiting for - a warm shower and a dry bed.

I've had a day to recover and my eyes still can't see straight. Post-festival-blues has hit and I'm wondering why there isn't a legal cure for this? The pharmaceutical industry are focusing on the wrong crowd.. The light at the end of the tunnel is seeing the photo's from the disposables that we bought with us (and magically managed to bring back!) if only life could be one big festival - Thank you Creamfields! You were a trip ;)



Recipe of the day: Daal and rice (This food saved me at the festival - an extortionate price of 5 pounds, but so worth the result)

http://www.indianfoodforever.com/bachelor-cooking/simple-dal.html

Carried by the clock

The last few days have shared a spaced out and dreamy mood that's I've been floating through, managing to get a few waitressing shifts in here and there, in the midst of experiencing living with 2 other guys in the middle of London. So when you live with people, there are a few habits, or quirks that start to matter. Cooking, cleaning, bedtime, routines that everyone's experienced differently having come from different families and cultures with different ways. It's interesting when you combine them - does the result work? Yesterday at lunch time, it didn't. We all 'assigned' ourselves various tasks - I can't recollect what mine was but the majority of it was spent relaxing in the garden on the phone to 'flu-camp' answering mindless questions about whether I was 'healthy' or 'had taken any recreational drugs lately' - Woops. But that's a story for later, the kitchen was a beautiful site. Glasses half full of 'Echo Falls' Rose, dorito packets scattered, cereal bars, chocolate wrappers, egg shells and no milk. If someone fancied a cup of tea - it would require a minute of manual labour or a 30 minute wait for the half broken dishwasher. No cups, cutlery or plates were available and the floor was covered in tobacco and crumbs. It's funny how fast a mess accumulates between a few people, but it can disappear just as fast when everyone gets their gloves on. The mid-work spliffs probably didn't aid motivation or the speed at which we completed the seemingly simple job. We joined the boys in the kitchen at lunch time - one of whom had been in-charge of food. The grossness of it didn't really hit me until I left the house, when you're hungry you'll eat anything. It was an oily pile of mash - what was in the mash you may ask? Frozen chips, fish fingers and chicken breast baked in a vat of oil. I chopped up a bit of lettuce just to delay the oncoming heart attack, and left the house with a nauseous feeling that has lasted until this morning. Besides the current lazy lifestyle, that you have to grab at while it lasts, the majority of our days are usually sunny and well-spent. Empty suitcases upstairs still await packing for our three day festival tomorrow, 'Creamfields' - setting ourselves up for a non-stop techno/house adventure in the woods.

London's an interesting place at the moment, the patriotic Olympic spirit still lingers in the streets, the night-life is slowly wittering out, Wednesday nights in Camden are no longer buzzing, now a more mellow vibe has washed over the city. I feel slightly sympathetic towards the para-olympians actually, the Olympic torch has been put out (yes they may have another one but isn't it slightly degrading?) and the thousands of american, Spanish and French tourists that roamed the streets of London are now dispersing to their corners of the globe. But apparently this is the first time the tickets for the p.o games are all completely sold out so there's a pat on the back. I've had numerous recent discussions regarding what constitutes a 'para-Olympian' and what disabilities are more 'limiting' than others. The athletes are identified by the sport they play not the disability they have, yet isn't it more advantageous to be a deaf runner than a blind one? Where does the line actually end - I'm sure there's a long and boring rule book answering my question that's very closely followed and monitored but when you see it all from an objective standpoint without understanding the fine-print, these questions are bound to arise.

So following on from my earlier sporadic mentioning of 'flu-camp', a concept that had not even entered by realm of thought until 2 weeks ago when the prospect of earning 3 - 4k in 11 days made all my senses heighten. You basically sign up for a clinical trial in which you're a 'human guinea pig' for 11 days. You're given a mild strain of the flu, followed by treatments that 'cure you'. You're placed in a suite with wireless, flat screen TV, playstation and all the other gadgets and techy things you can think of - and fed three meals a day, in isolation. On mention of this to my dad (which I have been constantly reminded wasn't the best idea), he retaliated with a very well thought out argument. Stuck in isolation for 11 days, having to endure a nasty virus, getting random unknown drugs injected into your body, and the potentially awful yet unknown long-term side-effects. So this is my current battle, the money vs. the risks. It's that moment of temptation when it could all go wrong for a bit of money, but if it goes right, you would spend forever looking back at the decision with fond memories and a smile on your face. I think a pro's and con's list is in need.

It's midday, I'm the only one who's made the bold move of getting out of bed, meanwhile we're wasting another beautiful day indoors.. walking into the kitchen is like deja-vu, I'm avoiding that section of the house for the time being, with the slightly doubtful hope that when everyone wakes up our productive juices will start flowing. The plan of action today is move out of this house and leave it 'just as it was left', an image i struggle to visualize; rewarding ourselves with the current 'Damien Hurst' exhibition at the Tate Modern. Some of the features are said to include a room full of thousands of butterflies, a carcass being eaten by flies and various other gruesome but fascinating depictions of nature. The last exhibition I went to at the Tate a few weeks ago was in the new section by the 'tanks'. Various underground rooms have been built to showcase the talents of various Korean, German, Dutch etc. artists that have a flare for the disturbing. I was with a friend when I went to see this, we observed individuals in the queue being pulled out and ordered to sit down in a corner for no apparent reason. We were approached and led out of the long line directly to the exhibition. It was all part of the act, the artists desire to show how workers and labourers desired freedom yet were constantly held down by their 'class' and wealth-status. So much of the art was open to interpretation and some I found leaned further towards the abstract 'could mean anything' type of art but you had to appreciate what the artist was trying to share.

I think breakfast is on the cards - the one safe meal that doesn't require any effort (if there's any milk left that is.)


 Recipe of the day: Rice pudding

http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/157/easy-rice-pudding.aspx

Appreciation

South bank funfair

You know those days where time just flies by and you don't really feel like you've accomplished anything? You go from lying in bed, to having breakfast to dawdling around the kitchen or the sitting room. Nothing really gets done and before you know it it's 6pm and the light's dimming. Yesterday was one of those days. But to be fair, we did enjoy it happily blazed sitting in deck chairs under a tree on the patio. A few days earlier I was browsing the web and a pop-up for 'Carnaval del Pueblo' popped up on my screen, a huge latin carnival with authentic musicians, salsa dancing and latino's galore in a big 3 story theatre in Elephant and Castle. We woke up out of our daze, I slapped on a bit of colour and we caught the tube to the carnival. We sat there as the heat swelled in a blur, people were all having conversations around me and I'd catch snippets of each one but not really focus in on anything inparticular. The half an hour rushed by in suit with how time had been running up until that point.

I spot an eye

Elephant and Castle is south london, as we walked up to the theatre I really got a taste of what it entailed - hoods up, bling out, street. It was so raw to be out of the scene of buzzing central london surrounded by non-stop consumerists with, money. We walked into the club, a grimy energy running through us as we spotted the metal detectors preventing any weaponry going down inside. There were about 100 replica's of the hulk storming around with a serious look on their face. 

Projections at the tate

Walking into the club all you could see were hips. Amazing latina dancers on and off stage - the heat hit us in a literal wave and we merged into the energy. Coming up to latin instrumentals and stunning dancers made the tingles spread. When that moment of not caring who's around you or what you're doing and surrendering to the music just makes the most sense? 

Culture shock hit me again when I realized smoking inside wasn't allowed - it was such a change seeing smoke in the room because of the condensation and not because of the countless cigarettes in the room - that's all I've really been used to having grown up clubbing in Asia. Going outside was relieving though, a pause from the movement and a calm-down period without needing to talk or socialize it was literally a breath of fresh air.

Camden town

Camden town

The carnival finished early, giving us the rest of a long Saturday night in London to look forward to. We sped through southbank, stopping for chats along the Thames and lying on multi-coloured beds under huge pop-up projecters showing the classics. We were led to Trafalgar sqaure, and mid-conversation leaning against one of the giant lions, we were approached by a 'rude-boy'. Everyone's talk turned to hushed tones and he asked me for a lighter. Everyone's eyes reflected their state, wide, red, small, normal. He sparked the ight and the conversation burst into flame - 5 minutes later we'd literally heard his whole life story:

. Mum and dad alcoholics

Carnaval del pueblo

. Grew up in Social Care

. Earns money through drugs

. Got stabbed with a screw-driver

. Did a year for atempted murder

. Wants to turn his life around when he's 18

The trio

The thing is, it didn't instill fear in us to talk about this with him, it was more sympathy and pain. He smiled as he spoke through his mouth of half missing teeth. His nervousness evident as he took on and off his hat as he talked and continuously shrugged his hood over his shoulders. The hardest thing to hear was when he told us it was his 15th birthday and he was celebrating by spending his birthday present from his mum (15 pounds) for a cheap bottle of champagne. The prospect of his older brother leaving that life and becoming a business man - wealthy, was like his light at the end of the tunnel "it's so hard to get out of this once you're in it".. Though I couldn't relate to that extent, I listened and gave him the time and attention he needed. The night went on and the mood lulled. We sat spaced out for a meaningless period on a night bus to Kilburn, trying to keep our eyes open for the longest five minutes of our lives. The joint lit just as the sky was brightening and dreams took over.

We spun

It's funny the people you meet at night, the wanderers of London - the more fearful side you see in strangers and they rush to their destination with all alarms at the ready. What I love about it,  is the diversity in class. You start off asking an older rich woman for directions, turn the corner to the Indian man that owns the corner shop. dodging through groups of skinheads with their hoods up and then round a family as they walk towards their car. It's such an eclectic bunch you're a whole different category in yourself. You're no longer that expat, that cultural divide fades as there are too many to afford to have that type of separation..
After non-stop work and various thought-provoking encounters, the clock's struck twelve and flower girl's off to bed, with a whole new appreciation for everything.

 Recipe of the day: Amazing lemon meringue pie 

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/3482/ultimate-lemon-meringue-pie

Ranting and raving

My stream of conciousness is about to commence, brace yourselves..

London's quirks - a car covered in grass

Slowing down. I've found when you move to different places you tend to absorb your environment.. you adapt if you will. Different people, trends, weather. It kind of brings out different sides of your personality. I've landed myself in one of those weird limbo situations where everyone's either about to go on holiday or working really hard; it's tough to find a balance with that fresh newfound independence. But ayway, I've temporarily developed this really quiet persona - London's quite a loud and full on city it's quite humbling being constantly confronted by such a strong 'individualist' society. We spent years studying this in psychology, and while I was able to reciprocate all the studies etc. on paper, I didn't truly apply my knowledge to my surroundings, until now. Asia's generally labelled a 'collectivist' society, in which the culture is to work for the benefit of your community, while individualists tend to work for the benefit of themselves/ the individual. This rather selfish mindset is so evident now, everyone paces around with their own agenda here, there's not that lacksidazical sense of community that is so inherantley present in every Asian country i've lived in.  It's interesting people watching, just noticing the little things around you - a man sitting in the corner playing a xylaphone, a group of little girls running around while their mums drink coffee.. waitresses, shopkeepers, business men and women. When you stop to see it instead of being constantly distracted by your non-stop thoughts, it changes your perspective on things.

Caterers digging into irresistible chocolate

Catering has opened my eyes a bit more as well, having to endure all the tiny details of setting up a dinner, the angle of the knives, the different wine glasses, the position of the chairs, every detail has been though of before hundreds of guests swoop into the room. When the celebrities are present it's when the dynamics get interesting. The other night there were two big-shot MBA players invited to a dinner that I was catering for at the British Museum; though i had to strain my neck to offer them canopy's, their personalities shone through their celebrity status and we conversed about how their time in London had been. Other guests however did not have such a polite demeanour, though they were without the sticker of fame they still had the sticker of wealth, that had manifested itself into a snobby attitude with no respect for 'those working below them'. Some people brush you aside with no effort to make eye contact, while others merely shake their heads and pout as they turn away from the calorie infested platter of goods. The main point of my rant is just that by observing the behaviour and attitudes of people around you really allows you to check yourself and appreciate the small details that go into customer satisfaction.

Totally unrelated but I love the madness:
Food art - Joli Lapin

In the background Giles Peterson is playing on itunes.. he's a radio presenter interviewing David Roddigan an old time amazing reggae DJ. Discussions on racial repression, the age of reggae, the best and the worst. It feels like such an achievement to enjoy a buzz and feed your brain something at the same time, 'when you choose to take control and not let it control you.' As a friend G.M would say ;) Speaking of substances - I was sitting on the tube today listening to this man standing next to me, attempting to pass on his worldly knowledge onto a seemingly naive ukranian woman. "You know Yoga? Meditation? Incense? Yeah I do it all.. I take Ketamine and just meditate until it wears off, it's really good for you". I couldn't help but smirk at the convincing tone in his voice, and the total lack of awareness in her face. She nodded passively as he continued his rant about how more people should follow in his footsteps otherwise he'll have to 'wind up a few fingers and tell them to fuck off'. Totally dillusional - but then again aren't most people?

Food art - Joli Lapin

I was asked the other day whether I had many fake friends and I replied no. Acquaintances that put on a smiley face and make meaningless small talk whenever they see you, yes, but everyone has that crowd - it's not possible to have a significant depth of friendship with everyone so it's inevitable that with some, the relationship's remain shallow, and that's ok. But then we began listing the qualities that our friends had in common: Green smokers, intelects, partyers, a sense of culture, it goes on - but one thing that I did pick up on was this concept of 'theories'. I have many friends that come up with 'their own' theories and that ties back to this dillusional world that we all live in. I believe theories are like flashes of awareness or realization, about something that was black and white before and have just gained access to the edge of the colour spectrum. It's almost like getting to the next stage in a Maths lesson, when you finally unlock the box of understanding to trigonometric relationships or any of that insignificant info. You feel a sense of achievement at being able to apply your own knowledge to a real situation. When you can figure something out without being told, it's when you rise above that standard conciousness and access human potential that we don't take enough advantage of. I mean think about it - everyone has a human brain, and we've seen countless examples of 'geniouses', creative minds, inventors, artists, writers etc. who've all utilized theirs to discover another piece of the infinity puzzle. If we all tuned into that, we'd have a crazy world full of crazy, subjective and 'dillusional' ideas. The conversations my friends and I engage in always leave me thinking.

Food art - Joli Lapin

But now the day's winding down. I walked for 40 minutes down a busy street today, in my own bubble listening to the rythms of acid jazz. The clouds were all overlapping and forming scale-like shapes, intertwined with the light blue background. My eyes have been drooping since 6pm due to the miniscule amount of sleep we managed to attain last night. Another little 'did you know' fact for the day - once you've lost sleep you can never get it back, whether you sleep all day, if you've lost sleep at night, when you're natural circadian rythm (biological sleep cycle) is programmed to sleep - recovery isn't actually possible. So i'm planning on giving my body a treat and staying in tonight, TV remote, lighter, tea, blanket - sorted.

 Recipe of the day: Sundried tomato, spinach and feta quiche

http://www.food.com/recipe/spinach-tomato-and-feta-quiche-33454

Hurt

They say you live and learn, but what if you're not interested in learning? What if the experience of that learning curve is too painful to conceptualize? I know I tend to rant about society, and the psychology behind big concepts like marriage or money. Concepts that I partly understand, being someone who comes from a broken family, and lives in a world where money is a driving force. But today, is purely a subjective account and questioning of pain in relationships.

If you haven't already guessed, yesterday, I experienced the heartbreak of being 'dumped' ouch that word rings tough. The symptoms include breathlessness, abdominal pain, non-stop waterworks and lack of sensation - everywhere. It's funny how fast it hits you as well, one minute I was having a conversation over skype and the next I was a mess on the floor. (I'll try and leave out the drama). There's a tribe in Papa New Guinea that doesn't have 'depression' as an illness, but instead, diseases with various symptoms in common, one of these including 'heartbreak'. If only the American pharmaceutical company could create a legal pill to heal that.
It's scientifically proven that females have a higher pain threshold than men (an evolutionary reason being to give birth) and this is because we have almost double the pain receptors on our skin. So do we take the blow harder than guys? If pain receptors extend to emotions the answer would be yes. Out of all the categories of 'pain', and while I may be biased at this particular point, I believe heartbreak tops the list. The sense of loss spins your world upside down. It goes from having that one person that means everything, that is such a large percentage of how you spend your time, what you think about, what your future plans are - to suddenly being forced to 'learn from your mistake' and 'move on'. That only happens with time by the way - no matter how much chocolate is eaten, soppy rom-com's are watched, or alcohol is poured into your system, the reality doesn't improve until your new daunting world, becomes normal. 

I think a large part of break-ups have to do with why they happened, whether you're to blame (or the booze). But the concept I'm struggling with, is that my 'ex' (that word stings to type) thrust the 'logical' explanation of why it would be easier to move on from one another now, than have to wait for 4 months of living together, falling completely in love, and experiencing a new side of life, before it all had to be over (universities on opposite sides of the world). Me being the idealist struggled with accepting his ability to make this decision, all I'd been imagining was the fun we'd have, a bitter end is inevitable in a lot of cases. But it's easier to focus on the positive - no one follows the dark spot at the end of the tunnel right? So while the last few weeks have been full of inner-turmoil, not knowing when we'll see each other, getting mentally prepped to make the big move of 'living together' I came to a concious decision 3 days ago, that I'd stop worrying, and enjoy the ride. My dream curdled in a matter of hours and I was left sitting at my laptop in an empty house on the other side of the world from friends and family - single.

I can hear my little cousins words ringing in my ears "you're a single pringle ready to mingle", but I've had months of that - As much as rebounding has it's benefits of losing all inhibitions and physically distracting yourself - let's be honest? Contracting an STD mid-break up doesn't make me want to scream and jump. I think the worst part about everything, is realizing that a relationship rarely involves two people that are on the same wavelength in terms of attachment. You can open yourself up much as possible (no sexual connotations) to someone and create the illusion or belief that they feel the same way, but when you're left in that weak powerless state - 'having the carpet' ripped from under you with no say in the matter, the self-hate kicks in.

It's interesting to see the reactions of friends in situations like this as well - while some throw mean comments and words of hate towards your 'ex', others tell you what your 'true potential' is that you apparently never saw before, and some send you things to read: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/valley-girl-brain/201105/how-want-get-over-breakup - a step by step list on 'how to get over a break-up' I cringed and sighed when I saw the title, but there are a few nuggets of wisdom that I took away from it, the shining line of the article being a quote by Lucille Ball: "Love yourself first and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world." So that's my goal! The rest will have to fall into place at some point. Living alone is taking it's toll, and where I'm going to live in the forseeable future is an alarming question mark, now that my fantasy plans have apparently fallen through - The girlfriend's already been replaced by the friend! Regarding room-mates..
An invisible weight is slowly being lowered onto me - my chest is feeling it first. At this point I can see different routes to take - some being less beneficial to my health than others, but I'd love to harness it into something productive. I'm hoping to anything that this new found sense of optimism will kick in so I can start believing in a new fantasy, meanwhile I'm burying myself in work and pretending it's all ok 'service with a smile!' It's comforting to know that so many people can relate to this feeling - and the feeling of it passing - I can't wait for the latter.

Indulge me in choosing the one pie that describes these emotions through its colours and flavours..try and avoid smirking ;)


 Recipe of the day: Heartbreak pie (raspberry and chocolate!)

http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/chocolate-raspberry-pie

Through the looking glass

 It's always interesting having a few days of country living - with a slightly luxurious edge. On one hand it's fantastic being able to catch up with relatives, skimming over the years events and future plans over a delicious lunch. A few days ago I fed into the English spirit with a typical tea party, canope's of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, glazed sausages and salmon bites; just to add a touch of class we took our pick of Pimms, wine, rosé or elderflower cordial. All the ladies were in flowery dresses and hats - for when the sun decided to momentarily peep out. And the men all had their black suits and funky ties on, their shoes newly polished and looking rather suave. Unfortunately, my 11 cousins (all of whom are a range of ages, me being in the middle) somehow escaped having to socialize and make small talk with mysterious adults all afternoon. So i pranced around looking jolly and entertaining the old folk. At first I dreaded the thought - and found myself repeating the same lackadaisical words to the first few people I spoke to, with a smile of course. But I decided I didn't particularly want to waste my time not making an effort - and I began speaking to one lady who was about 75 years old, called Linda.

1930 - Frida Kahlo 

1940 - Lennon

Linda indirectly opened my eyes to my ignorance towards 'the elders'. Our family calender hangs by the side of the fridge, on which we have a scheduled date every year to see the rellies, somehow it always feels like a slightly laborious task, especially when you're younger. The traditional view towards children was that they should be 'seen and not heard', correct table manners were always expected, and a sweet smile in return for a sugary pudding. Then it was off to bed early while the adults had their 'time' mingling downstairs. Growing up is a funny thing; one of the major facets that makes me feel 'adult' is when others treat you like one, when the intellect within conversations is that much higher, when you're responsible for slightly more than not losing your lunch money, and when adults talk to you with purpose instead of condescendingly patting you on the head. But seeing grandparents, who will always view you as their little grandchild, somehow takes away from the ability to truly learn who they are. Or perhaps it's just laziness on my part in not trying to really find out about their intriguing past.

1950 - Munroe

1960 - Hurston

What fascinates me, is that these people have lived such long lives, to think of the experience I feel I've had in only 18 years is already eye opening. But multiply that by 4 and your perspective widens considerably. Oh the stories Linda began to tell me, none of which made me yawn. The incredible people she'd met, and places she'd lived, her casual reference to historical events like World War 2 and what she'd been doing during that time. It was funny hearing first hand accounts about events that I'd learnt about at school and in textbooks. The swinging 60's and flower-power 70's - I heard about it all; as the Pimms and wine continued to flow, everyone's voices became slightly louder, and their stories raunchier. Being a wallflower was the best role to have played in that scenario.

1970 - Presley

1980 - Jackson

In a series I used to follow, 'One Giant Leap' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gla2IgD52eU) that features two guys who travel around the world interviewing the most fascinating people on all of the most 'deep and meaningful' subjects that exist today: Love, death, age, sex, music etc. and inbetween the interesting speeches there's an eclectic combination of music from various cultures, all synthesized into one amazing tune. Portuguese singers over Indian drummers alongside a melodic tune on a korean flute with some brilliant American guitarist - you get the picture. But one of the episodes on 'age' interviews a lot of older people; you journey through their take on getting old, and the changes that occur around them as a result. I remember one lady talking about how she couldn't look at herself in the mirror because she couldn't accept her 'ugly' wrinkles, while another was full of acceptance and viewed ageing as a sign of beauty. A discussion took place regarding people's reactions and attitudes towards them, how they're suddenly 'outcast' in society and placed in various homes to make others lives easier. (Hobbes's theory on how humans are ultimately selfish creatures and do everything for their own personal gain rings true in this case). The only people they can really relate to or talk to without being spoken to in a fairly condescending manner, or looked at sympathetically are other people of their age. At lunch today someone mentioned their best friend having passed away earlier that week, and though there was sadness in their eyes, they stated the fact with ease, as it had almost become normal to hear that another of their friends had gone. Can you
imagine that? Everyone dropping like flies and not knowing when your turn will be..

1990 - Dhal

2000 - Swayze

One of the biggest concepts I struggle with is imagining my grandparents in their youth, as the image I see them as is 'sweet old grandma who cooks amazing food and grandpa who dosses and reads the newspaper'. I'd never picture them clubbing, getting completely smashed or dancing stark naked on bars in feather boas - but today, I learnt, their youth was far wilder than many people's I know today. It's not too hard to imagine considering they grew up in a world of psychedelic music accompanied by abundant hallucinogenics.

2010 - Obama

This is the peak of my youth, of many of ours, but to think about the drastic changes that occur as we age, slotting us into different roles. We're confronted with examples of old age that people almost conform to as they reach it, the clothes, the lifestyle, the house. But hearing stories and experiences of the years that led up to it, from such an open and interesting perspective, really gets the mind going - let's just hope the rumours concerning the colossal damage that will 'wipe out'  the human race in 2012, doesn't happen, so we can experience whatever lies beyond this peak.







 Recipe of the day: Pesto chicken with roasted tomato's 
http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/10416/creamy-pesto-chicken-with-roasted-tomatoes

Focus

Just thought I'd begin with a little interesting fact I picked up on the radio the other day. I've always heard that females are better at multi-tasking than males, but never really understood why - especially when I didn't really fit into that stereotype. My attempts at multi-tasking generally end in a breakdown. But it turns out there's a scientific explanation - women have a thicker corpus callosum than men (the part of the brain that separates the two hemispheres) hence we have a larger mass of nerves and receptors within that area and can more easily switch between different areas/functions of the brain, giving us the increased ability to switch concentration between tasks. Yet it strikes me as rather odd that they were discussing this, when in actual fact multi-tasking isn't really possible. So google defines multi-tasking as "The handling of more than one task at the same time by a single person" So I suppose it is possible -but my point is it doesn't allow for a good and complete execution of those tasks. 

How it's changed

As we only have one brain, we can only focus 100% of our attention on one task at a time - multi-tasking therefore should be cast in a negative light as it infers that we're half-heartedly doing various tasks instead of doing your best at one. But isn't that what society's slightly turned into? The ability to do everything all at once while living a fast paced existence, as we attempt to conserve as much time as possible to doing more more more... Isn't that what so many of us subconsciously strive for? One of the things that I used to get upset about was catching up with friends while they simultaneously stared transfixed at their phone screens. Having a conversation and being brushed aside mid-way as a far more important matter on their phone came up that they had to attend to immediately. I remember sitting in the canteen at lunch time, I sat on the table that was constantly engaged in heated arguments and debates over social or political issues. Generally revolving around the legalization of marijuana or another taboo subject. But there were some tables on which 5 - 7 people would sit (predominantly girls) with their heads all bent over as they 'multi-tasked' - picking food up with their left hand, and tapping tweeting/emailing/facebooking/texting with their right hand. It was so funny to me, because when we all got home, my newsfeed would fill up with  news about those same people writing or posting things to each other - so who were they writing to at lunch?! I still don't understand the desire to constantly live in a virtual world when so much is going on around you.

I'm not going to lie, I can see myself doing it sometimes; my granny was talking about how rude mobiles were the other day, especially at mealtimes - how they completely destroyed the social dynamic - and I couldn't disagree. Looking around me in the fish and chip restaurant, I'd say at least half of the people in there were tapping away at their phones, while the other half were trying to control their screaming children. My phone was placed on the table next to me, as was dads - ready to grab at the slightest buzz. The need to be constantly connected and talking to others without focusing all of your efforts on engaging in the situation you're presently in. We can't really be blamed though, seeing as we're constantly being offered various mediums to do this through - Facebook, phones, emails, skype - yes this is the generation that we are. We're in the age of technology, but can people really be surprised at the increased cases of ADD when we're being taught to focus our attention on a million things at once?

Jeanloup Sieff

On the subject of straying attention, 'woman's hour' can faintly be heard playing on the radio. They're discussing the subject of monogamy. Staying with one person for your whole life - what a task! The divorce rates have never been higher, and the average age of marriage is also increasing with time as people begin to feed into more 'alternative' ways, 'commitment ceremonies', not putting a label on it, all that non-permanent jazz. A lot of it I think is psychological, I know I'm only 18 but I can still infer. Putting label's on relationships and suddenly having to live up to all of these 'rules' and 'expectations' freakspeople out. I studied a sect of psychology called 'human relationships' and one of the most interesting things I looked into was the satisfaction curve. As couples start out, the honeymoon phase occurs and satisfaction rates are obviously high due to the lust and passion etc. (these 'rates' are measured in terms of happiness levels for different criteria, feeling appreciated, whether routine questions like 'how was your day' are still asked, engaging in sexual activity ladidadida. The studies occured cross-culturally with both men and women of different ages, all of whom were in relationships) but as time went on, the rates of satisfaction went down - a lot of people refer to this stage as 'reality' but I don't really like that idea. Reality doesn't have to lack satisfaction it just has to be handled right, whatever that means. But as couples reached the 20/ 30 year mark of being together, the rates rose again to where they were at the beginning. So happy ending's do exist in the world of data and statistics. It's just a question of whether couples can actually hack it out for that long to reach that the ecstasy they'd once felt.

The reality?

On the radio, the main theme was surprisingly infidelity in relationships - and the focus was more on the positive aspects of it. How it brings couples closer and allows for that adrenaline rush that gets lost over time. I wondered whether that's what we were all moving towards.. open relationships? I still don't really see how someone can be totally attached and want to stray without feeling a sense of betrayal or hurt. Being someone who has cheated before - I understand how and why it can happen, I think most people do. I don't regret a thing because it taught me a lot in the long run - about myself, the relationship I was in and what I needed at the time (a taste of single-dome). And I know it may seem hypocritical, but I still don't really believe in, or like the concept of cheating, if everything's supposed to revolve around trust and honesty - how exactly does cheating fit in? I know I still have a lot to learn - but at the rate we're going now, I'm not neccesarily looking forward to learning from experience, movies and books are good enough.

Lackadaisical

There's an organization called the Honey Trap, that a lot of women, and men use. It's basically hiring a woman or man to hit on/ attempt to seduce your significant other. And what did the stats show? 99% of men fell for it. I think the statistics with women were below 80% - 'great' news there. Then again, to be a relativist, if you're going behind their back to hire someone to seduce them you're not exactly setting yourself up for a good scenario - as well as revealing a few trust issues. It's interesting to see who's attention span lasts longer, yours or your partners. Watching how all the extraneous variables come into play.
Time for an over-done, predictable hollywood rom-com for a taste of fantasy! Followed by lamb chops and new potatoes for dins, I got a little over-excited earlier picking raspberries so we have a bucket to get through for pudding with a bit of cream, omnomnom.



 Recipe of the day: Lamb chops (serve with mint sauce and new potatoes) 
http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/lamb_chop