Scaredy Cat

I’m easily scared. Earlier today my friend Jamie scared me so much that I cried. Actual tears rolled down my chubby cheeks because he jumped out at me. I am pathetic. He however felt so bad that he took me out for a hot chocolate. Win! Over said drink we got talking about all the things that scare me and he was highly amused so I thought I’d share them with you all as well (even though I personally don’t find them funny)…

1. Spiders. My Dad always used to get angry at me when I’d scream/cry at the mere sight of one of the eight-legged-buggers but I am genuinely terrified of them. I’d get the usual “you’re a lot bigger than it is” “it’s probably more scared of you screaming than you are of it” but it wouldn’t make me feel any better, in fact it would just wind me up. The creepy things have EIGHT LEGS, there is absolutely NOTHING normal or OK with that. Thinking about the way they move makes me want to be sick. Disgusting. I’m also a very strong believer in that if you see one that you kill it, none of this setting it free stuff. Nope. Squish it or hoover it immediately before it has a chance to run away, meet a friend and multiply. Thankfully I haven’t come across many spiders in my new flat *touch wood* but when I did come across one I was thankfully with Jamie and he “dealt” with it whilst I ran away screaming and flapping my arms in the air. What a hero.

2. Being pushed onto an underground track. Since moving to London I’ve always been wary of the sacred yellow line and have made sure not to cross it when a train approaches. However a couple of months ago there was an incident which made the news where a man shoved a random lady onto the tracks and to my knowledge he didn’t even know her. Wtf? Thankfully the lady was helped up on to the platform before a train came.

3. Swings. I’m not sure whether I had a traumatic experience on a swing as a child that I can’t remember but I honestly can’t stand the things. I can only cope with swinging on them when my feet can still touch the floor, when they can’t is when I start to freak out. I mean seriously my stomach flips, I start sweating and my hands go clammy so that I’m unable to hold on to the chains. I then start to panic about how I’m going to fall off and die. Terrible.

4. Hospitals. I do not like hospitals one bit. I don’t like the smell. I don’t like the atmosphere. I don’t like all of the beeping and the numerous machines. I don’t like the beds. And I don’t like the memories. I’m anxious about the day I inevitably have to go to hospital. (Just a heads up to any Doctors or Nurses that come across me, I’d probably have me sedated, I’d be easier to cope with.)

5. Heights. Living on the 8^th floor is quite an adventure for someone who’s scared of heights (this relates to my issue with swings.) Basically I don’t like looking down on things. Although I’ve been up the Empire State Building I felt quite panicky at the top and was only able to look out, not down! Even though I’m petrified of heights whenever I go on an aeroplane I always want a window seat even though I’d never dream of looking out of it for longer than a few seconds. *shivers*

6. “The end” of Jazpups. This scares me the most out of everything because she is without a doubt the best thing in my life and subsequently life without her really isn’t worth thinking about.

Other things that also scare me are that I over analyse everything and make things seem worse than they actually are in my head. Not having enough money. Waking up and having someone I don’t know standing over my bed. Not achieving what I want to. Children. Feeling like I’ve wasted time. Being trapped on a tube. Dying alone. Things that fly, in particular butterflies and birds that have no sense of space and flap their wings in my face. Losing my favourite lipgloss. What people think of me. Fate. Frogs. People not coming to my funeral…

…Basically I’m pretty much scared of everything. Cool.

Football.

Lately a lot of things have changed in my life. One of these includes the amount of football I’ve been recently watching. It would be fair to say that I’ve been watching a lot. Don’t get me wrong I’ve always enjoyed watching Man United matches, even more so when I’m actually at Old Trafford, but I wouldn’t watch another team other than England. However, as of late I’ve been watching all kinds of teams: West Ham, Spurs, Chelsea, Everton, Southampton, Reading. Take for example the weekend that has just passed I watched four football matches, yes four. Liverpool v Everton. West Ham v Brighton. Man United v Aston Villa. Chelsea v Tottenham. And I shamefully wasn’t even bullied into watching them, I chose to. I’ve changed.

My viewings of football matches increased rapidly just after Christmas when I had Glandular Fever. Watching Man United and shouting at the TV along with my Dad and younger brother became a weekly occurrence, much to the amusement of the majority of people I know. I started to tweet my thoughts during matches and gained many football fanatic followers. I’m now often asked what I make of a match and when I’m not tweeting people ask where I am. It feels a little peculiar having people ask what I make on a football match seeing as I’m normally only asked about what I think about Victoria Beckham’s new Birkin bag…

I by no means understand the whole game, I often shout “HOOF” when actually it’s just a normal pass, I don’t know all the ins-and-outs of the offside rule, I’ve been known to get bored and lose interest if there isn’t a goal within the first half and to be honest sometimes I’m more interested in trying to spot someone wearing bright orange football boots (FYI so far at least one person in each match I’ve watched has worn a pair) but nevertheless even though I’m somewhat football-naive I enjoy it and it would appear that others enjoy my take on it as well!

Since being back in London I’ve been to a few West Ham matches at Upton Park. I’ll be honest it’s no Old Trafford. But then again Old Trafford doesn’t offer bubbles. The bubbles are a LOT of fun. As is the irony of seeing thousands of stereotypically bald, muscular, tattooed, cockney men singing about blowing them (big bunch of girls if you ask me!) Unlike all of the burly guys who fill the stands, I will never wear a West Ham shirt. However I do like it when they win. I think I mainly just enjoy watching a football match live and in person, instead of on the television.

Having said that, last night I watched a match on the TV (the biggest TV I’ve ever seen in my life, nonetheless) that match being Chelsea v Barca, obviously. However unlike usual when I’m watching with my family or close friends, last night I was in the company of a well known and respected footballer. I embarrassingly forgot about the company I was in and started commentating in my own, some-what “unique” way. When asked “Em, what do you make of Barca’s techniques?” “Errrm, I’m not sure but I like that guy’s boots.” I replied. “Oh.” I sensed that this wasn’t the response he was hoping for, but thankfully his wife agreed with me and the conversation took a brief detour to talk about shoes... That was until Barca nearly scored and we got a close up on Chelsea’s goal keeper, Cech. “Why is he wearing a swimming hat?” I asked out loud. Oh Goodness Emma, learn to think before you speak, please. Luckily for me the room burst into laughter. Phew.

I also passed comments on how the Barcelona team sat on the bench looked like a swarm of bees, how Drogba was wearing orange boots (I told you every team has a pair) and how Messi shouldn’t have opted for wearing a high-neck thermal top as it made his head look really rectangular. Thankfully for me my comments fell onto kind, forgiving ears and I wasn’t told to shut up. Anything but in fact, I was actually invited round to watch other matches “whenever I wanted” which is an invitation I will gladly accept (and one that has nothing to do with the fact that my glass of LPR kept being topped up without me asking!)

So basically yep I like football. Actually no correction: I like watching football. There is no way you’d ever catch me running around a field around a leather ball in football boots. The closest thing I’d get to wearing a pair of those would be my wedges high-tops, and they are way nicer. So anyway, there we have it a blog all about how I enjoy football, I bet the majority of you never saw that one coming… but fear not my main passion will always be celebrity gossip. It’s true what they say: something’s never change! Talking of which have you heard the rumours that surfaced last night about how Katy Perry may be a judge on the UK X Factor - how amaze would that be?! AND obvs Britney on the USA version – I am beyond jealous.

Oh and FYI last night I also came to the conclusion that Drogba would be quite a good gymnast as he spent most of the match dramatically diving, getting his body into all kinds of shapes and then rolling around on the floor. Oh and if you didn't watch the game yourself please see the picture above for evidence. Lols!

The Hunger Games

When I was younger I always used to have my head behind a book. I’d read all the time. I loved it. I loved being transported to another world through words. I loved letting my imagination run wild. As a child I was happiest when I was reading. Then I was introduced to the internet, boys, makeup, celebrities and BOOM I left my beloved books for all of the things I’ve just named. I’ve often missed the sense of belonging I used to feel when reading a book, the smell of its pages when it’s been used/loved, the crispness of its pages when its brand new, however whenever I sat myself down to rekindle my love of books I’d be distracted. That’s easily one of my worst traits; I’m distracted way too easily *Oh look, a cloud.*

Recently there has been a lot of excitement surrounding The Hunger Games. I’d heard about the film and didn’t really have any interest in going to see it. I didn’t know what it was about and to be honest wasn’t overly fussed about finding out either. I was happy to stay clueless. I kept seeing all these tweets about Katniss and Peeta. What ridiculous names. I couldn’t be dealing with it. So I ignored it. I blocked The Hunger Games out of my life, just like I have done with Twilight. HATRED.

I later found out that the film (just like Twilight) was actually an adaptation of a popular book series (like I said earlier, I really was clueless.) Suddenly the tweets all got too much and seeing people have conversations about District 12, The Capitol and Gamemakers got too much and I needed to know what it was about. Instead of taking the easy option and going to the cinema to watch the film I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to fall back in love with reading again.

I read The Hunger Games within 24 hours. I was hooked; I genuinely couldn’t put it down. I read it on my way to work, which in London isn’t exactly considered abnormal, I mean half the people on tubes either have a kindle, a book or a newspaper in their hands. However I don’t get the tube to work anymore, I walk. Yes, I read whilst I walked, what a loser! I was so engrossed that I didn’t like to look up from the pages to check where I was going, which inevitably resulted in me walking straight into a lamppost. I styled it out obviously. I didn’t. On my break I didn’t stop to eat or socialise, I chose a quiet seat in the corner and I read. When my break was over and I snapped back into reality I felt a huge wave of loath sweep over me, loath for work for coming between me and finishing my book. As I walked back out a colleague of mine looked at me and then asked with pure concern whether I was ok. I wasn’t. Rue had just died. I was heartbroken. She was so precious. I smiled and tried to shake it off as tiredness but she could see straight through me and asked what was wrong. I told her a character I liked had just died in the book I was reading. She started to laugh. It wasn’t funny.

It would be fair to say that I enjoyed reading The Hunger Games and became totally engrossed. Before reading it I was clueless as to what it was about and considering it’s supposedly meant to be a children’s book I was shocked to find out whilst reading it. For those who haven’t read it the basic storyline is that each county in a Country has to send two children (a boy and a girl) between the ages of 12 and 18 to compete against each other in The Hunger Games, which is televised for the entire nation to watch. The aim of the game is to be the last person standing. In other words they have to kill everyone else. Brutal.

Having read the book I was then intrigued to see the film. I needn’t have bothered. It was a complete let down. As per usual with film adaptations many of the brilliantly thought out details of the book had been carelessly tossed aside by the film creators. Unlike the book I was bored halfway through the film. I’m unsure as to whether this is because I knew what was going to happen or because I’d run out of popcorn but either way I left the cinema feeling very unimpressed. I had already created an image of what I thought people would look like in my head from reading the book and these were ruined by the film. I preferred my version. Overall I’d give them film a generous 3/5 and the book a 4½ /5.

I’ve since got the trilogy and cannot wait to read the following two books, however I need to finish the current book I’m reading ‘Tell me Something’ by Adele Parks and then next I’ll be reading ‘The Night Circus’ by Erin Morgenstern, but after that I’ll be all about Catching Fire.

Oh and P.S. I’m totes Team Gale!  Screw Peeta, what a pansy!