WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

Stumbling upon this blog after 7-8 years (challenging to get an accurate timeline since no ‘real people’ have commented since 2016 barring Indian crude oil, clearly a very real and very ardent fan) was to put it mildly, a massive mind fuck. 

Just me, thriving

I can now identify reading  my past posts I was far more of a cliche college student then I ever would have admitted at the time. And deeply homesick for my family **aww poor 19 year old Beth**.

Although I’m sure the same will be true when I look back on this current post and find I’ve accidentally encapsulated a cliche panicked quarter life crisis 30 year old. 

That’s right folks. I am now thirty years old. And SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED since I was 22. I feel like I could write a whole jarring TV Series on my mid twenties and a follow up sequel in my late twenties where everything thankfully improved. 

Some things that are still true about me: 

-I love to reflect and roast my former self (call it growth, call it self deprecation) 

-I love to make lists that summarize rather than over analyze (ADHD or laziness, you decide) 

-I love to talk about my own life (and being that it is my blog and I have no subscribers no one can stop me from rambling about it to an absurd degree)

What I think is deeply sad and rather encouraging at the same time (I’m sure there a singular word that would embody this concept) is that I believed my life was over around the time  this blog trailed off. I had just graduated with my bachelors and I was in yet another cycle of what I can now admit was severe depression. 

It took me a long time to accept that my depression was real despite having it readily diagnosed (I remain a catastrophizer to this day). Even longer to realize the only means of breaking said cycle was to take action. To halt the seemingly endless thought process of hating myself and my life involved fundamentally changing habits and thinking patterns I had held for my entire life. 

These beliefs (you’re lazy, you’re boring, you’re unintelligent, your body is wrong) were the only way I could cope with hardship. Because of these ‘truths’  I could justify why my life was destined to be unhappy. There is a comfort in depression which I am sure many people can relate to. 

Burrowing into hopelessness is safe and known. It means you don’t have to risk interactions with others or novel experiences. On the very real flip side, it also isolates you in a terrible loneliness that can feel inescapable the longer you reside there. 

I feel so incredibly lucky I clawed my way out. With the substantial help and understanding of others. But to give myself credit it was me and me alone who decided I needed to change. Peaks and valleys have followed ever since (ughhhhh the cliches are inevitable) but the trend remains climbing (metaphor still hanging on) and I clamber (can’t stop won’t stop) closer to my ultimate goal, contentment. 

 

I started writing this with no real plan and didn’t mean to get into the lows quite so much BUT starting chronologically might give some insight into the massive gap between posts and it feels satisfying to catalogue this part of my life. 

On that note, I hope to follow this post up with some actual entertaining reads. Writing remains a passion despite my skill level and how sporadically it happens. 

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My Life Through Music: The Tween to Teen years

13 was optimal timing for my angst-ridden indie years. Confirmed by my entire immediate and extended family I was a complete brat as tween. I felt gravely misunderstood and trapped by lack of funds and/or chauffeur. No one understood my pain. I spent the majority of time writing meaningless poetry vaguely sounding as though  I’d swallowed a thesaurus, or at my best friend's house convinced the 4 hour analysis of our ‘love lives’ were the most earth shattering revelations of human history.

I made a  natural progression from The Kooks to The Arctic Monkeys, to the Fratellis  all seemingly incredibly ‘underground’ since they didn't chart in America. This was also the point I thought I discovered the late  1970s- early 1980s,  blasting Blondie Heart of Glass, Cars by Gary Numan and Take on me A-ha  as my new ‘discoveries’. I was horrified when my Mum told me I was 25 years too late for that band wagon. 

Agh, Singing Star memories...

With iTunes at my finger tips I was desperate to show-case the current most obscure songs trying to persuade everyone of my superior taste. Again the music quality varied considerably. My playlist could feature  the current hit Madonna Hung up, followed by Verve Bittersweet Symphony interspersed with Gwen Stefani and then concluding with the Jingle Cats and Dogs (DO NOT BOTHER). 

I still borrowed heavily from the charts although to distinguish myself I searched  the British top 40 rather than mainstream America. What a hipster. It was time for  move both musically and geographically. We were off to Tulsa Oklahoma, home of Bill Hader, Chandler Bing’s office and a truly disgusting section of the Arkansas river.

I JUST MET THIS 5'7 GUY WHO"S JUST MY TYPE

Upon arriving to high school I soon found my American counterparts lived the 106.9 k-hits life. I largely abandoned the hipster path and settled on the radio and pure british top 10 including  Estelle American Boy, Cry For you September, Coldplay Viva la Vida, La Roux In for the Kill and Duffy’s Mercy. I had no favorites and flitted from one artist to the next claiming that albums were out and singles were in. 

This ideology soon crumbled as the chart didn't seem to change in Tulsa for 6 months and DJs played the same 5 songs on repeat FOR HOURS. I decided my parents might have taste after all and decided to rifle through their impressive  CD collection. Eagerly I made out way through, Smash Mouth’s classic album entitled Smash Mouth, the Love Actually soundtrack, the Batman Forever soundtrack (feat. covers of Iggy Pop, U2 and Seal Kiss from a Rose), Jason Mraz Waiting for my Rocket to Come and in my desperate moments KT Tunstall. 

Worse was on the horizon. Due to the ridiculously long American summer holidays I needed time fillers. I was too young to be hired so established a  schedule centering around  re-runs of Drake and Josh and Sonny with a Chance.  I predictably fell  madly in love with Drake Bell and purchased all his Nickelodeon singles and his hopelessly failing solo album. Listening back, It’s Only Time has the most odd mishmash of genres and worst lyrics of any album I’ve ever owned. 

Only on Nickelodeon though 

That didn’t stop me from playing it on repeat and tragically for them my family can now recite all the lyrics too. The only music from this period  I can look back on without shame was the discovery of  Amy Winehouse Back to Black album and  The Beatles 1 album both unearthed in my local library. 

Stay tuned for Part 3 where I finally ditched Disney channel. 

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My Life through Music: The Early Years

It all started with Britney Bitch. My very first album's cover featured Britney Spears with her top casually falling off. In retrospect maybe an odd choice of present for your 7 year old grandchild, but I can’t say I felt anything but love for Brit.

The best track was undoubtedly I’m a slave 4 u (unsurprisingly track 1, I had the attention span of 7 year old after all). I’m sure my parents and teachers were faintly horrified by the cat inspired dance routine I self-choreographed. It was certainly a rapid departure from Jock Rock  (or the Scottish alternative BBQ music) that I had grown up with. But perfect timing for our imminent move to the most cliched of all American cities, Houston Texas Baby.

Unfortunately Queen Bey  was far from my  radar. It was onto a new genre…movie soundtracks. I have no idea why I owned such a large collection of teen movie albums, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact I had no knowledge of musicians apart from Enya and S Club 7. There were definite highs (Shrek 1 and 2 still 100% bangers) and crushing lows (the Princess Diaries 2 soundtrack I am still mortified). 

I grew older, Beth aged 9 would have said wiser, Beth now says she watched far too much VH1. I discovered a band whose  lead singer I would inexplicably fall for. He was 22 years older, looked like he needed a wash and really overdid it in the eyeliner department. It was Billie Joe Armstrong, teen heart throb (arguably) and lead singer of Green day. 

I kid you not I would sit with compact disk player in hand, staring out the window tears rolling down my face, thinking there was no song more powerful than Time of Your life. In my more upbeat moments Hitchin’ A Ride served as the background for many a road trip and yes more terrible dance routines (although with reduced animal impressions). Boulevard of Broken dreams, and When September Ends  were ballads I particularly liked to scream along to in the car #angst.  

My Love. 

At some point (i’m thinking around 10) I finally ditched the compact disc player. I  was gifted with the first music player I could take running without the disc freezing,  the song rewinding and the CD being irreparably scratched. It was the OG i-pod Nano. 

After downloading all the essentials: Sean Paul -Temperature, Shakira -Hips Don’t lie, Crazy Frog etc. I was at a loss. Aside from the Top 40 I had no idea what music I liked. It was then  I found the first album that would change my life. An album that to this day remains one of my very favorites.

It all happened before one of our middle school discos (dances for you Americans). For some reason I was getting ready at the house of a boy I had a massive crush on. I’d like to say here that we were not friends and it was definitely love from afar (far far far away). We all piled into his Mum’s mini-van and sped off to school. The boy in question was renowned for his musical taste (at least in my mind) and started going off about some band he’d seen in Brighton. Apart from thinking he was the epitome of cool and sophistication I was desperate to casually name drop artists i’d just “randomly watched at a festival”. He preceded to play the album Inside i=In/Inside out. And that’s when I fell out of love with 11 year old ‘I go to festivals  alone with my older English mates’ and in love with Luke Pritchard lead singer of the Kooks. 

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Review: Trainspotting 2 (T2)

Fun fact: I've been to this night club's toilets 

Considering my last film review attempted to convince readers that Fifty Shades of Grey was an underrated triumph, I haven’t exactly set the bar high in terms  of my credibility  as a film critic. 

However there’s never been a subject I wouldn't give my opinion on no matter how unwanted, unjustified and under qualified I was to offer said opinion. 

I should probably start by mentioning how much I loved the original Trainspotting (T1 as it shall henceforth be known since the word Trainspotting keeps showing up as a misspelling on Microsoft word, which is intensely annoying Microsoft word you uncultured swine). The film  offered rapid fire immensely quotable dialogue, a back drop of the homeland (#edinbruh) and finally  a subject matter I found shocking at 16. As an incredibly sheltered teenager I had never seen such a raw depiction of drug use. This,  coupled with black  humor and all shot through  Danny Boyle’s distinctive lens made the film completely unique film experience for me. The images of a desperate Mark climbing into the worst toilet in Scotland,  Spud clasping poo stained sheets, the creepy demon ceiling baby and the epic race down Princes street all stuck in my mind long after I finished the film. In addition the soundtrack completely won me over as I have a huge soft spot for classic brit pop especially 80s brit pop.

INSERT IGGY POP HERE 

Anyways now I’ve fan girled over the first movie, what about T2? Unlike the majority of fans I wasn't particularly anxious about the prospect of a sequel.  I loved the original so much that any kind of reunion, even if it had been a brief skit on a talk show  (a la Friends) would have made my life. T2 had many  great elements. The beaut city of Edinburgh was used to its full potential (much to me and my friends delight when we spotted Ewan and the gang filming on Princes street). 

My personal fave locations included:

-Leith ( as my Gran always says ‘Leith is up and coming’ and as my brother always says ‘ Is it Leith? Or is it Amsterdam?’ ). 

-My beloved Arthurs seat

-The Tram (arguably the city’s most underrated form of transport/arguably a complete waste of money) 

-The night club Cav (where I have enjoy many a drunken escapade). 

I felt the character development was excellent. The men were recognizable as their characters but realistically shaped by their struggle to accept their aging and the consequences of so so so many bad choices. The men’s youthful exploits  had taken their toll on their personal relationships, family dynamics and career prospects (basically once a criminal always a criminal). The critics loved the film’s line ‘a tourist in their own youth’ . And the film continually references  this ‘youth’  through actual footage from T1 and discussions of the past between the characters. 

There were 2 particularly poignant moments. The first when Renton, Sick boy and Spud revisit the Scottish countryside where Mark made his infamous speech about how shite it was to be Scottish. Back in T1 they had been joined by the lovable ‘clean living’ Tommy who later snuffs it  after Mark introduces and supplies him with ‘scag'. In the T2 the characters reflect on  the death of Tommy and sick boy’s child while they imagine his figure just ahead,  his memory living on by the Scottish hills.

The other was a scene where Spud is walking toward Waverley station and suddenly  a 23 year old Mark is racing past him,  young Spud just behind. The footage from T1 rolls of a car colliding into Mark. We see the iconic moment where Mark simply grins and bursts out laughing at the driver before he is running off again, no fear, no regret, just living for the thrill of survival. This scene almost made me cry just from the overwhelming nostalgia captured on Spud’s face as he remembers.

  

Heroin does wonders for a pale AF complexion 

After the film finished updating the audience on the characters lives,  the story turned to Begbie’s revenge on Mark which was surprisingly hilarious given how terrifying Bebie still is. Another fantastic moment was a certain Catholic themed musical number by Renton and Sick boy which must be seen to be believed. 

Nothing will beat the original T1 there were too many iconic scenes and the whole concept was brand-new. However T2 was a worth-while and well-made sequel. Particularly Begbie and Spud’s performances would be highly acclaimed in any stand-alone movie. I would highly recommend to a friend  and given the potential of the film to be an absolute  train wreck (pun intended) I would say Danny Boyle nailed it. 

Can I also say I have no idea what obsession is with Sick Boy. That man is a great actor, but platinum blonde and almost fifty. 

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Binge.

As a child it was akin to heresy to admit TV was a favorite pass time. Teachers and parents alike harped on about  physical activity and the all-powerful healer of ‘some fresh air’. I have never seen a hatred so ardent as my Dad’s loathing for The Suite Life of Zack and Cody. 

To these adult’s credit, TV and movies in general were rarely prioritized for me  as a potential activity. Unfortunately I think  due to this perceived ‘gap’ in screen viewing my habits are now the definition of unhealthy and obsessive. Not only has binge-watching effectively taken up any and all ‘alone’ time, when watching with other people I quote IMDB movie trivia so obsessively  its as though I’m attempting to impersonate  Robert Osbourne  (the one no one asked for or wanted). 

Netflix is the joy and bane of my life. No question it has effected my productivity. The sharp increase in my own and other’s viewing time and the obsessive nature with which I consume content has made me think about the future of TV and how TV affects me. Here are my thoughts and questions. 

1. Has the rate at which I finish shows made me less appreciative of the work or some of the subtleties  that contributes to a high-quality show?

2. Have my standards for rating a show being raised or lowered? Do I just now want a show with shock value or an attractive cast to immediately enjoy it? Or do I now expect all elements of a show cast/cinemotography/story-line to be of a high standard?

3. Do I have my own opinions of these shows? How do my initial impressions hold up after reading critical reviews  and fan feedback?

4. Inevitably by the third season of a show I reach a plateau of enjoyment and begin to anticipate my next show, is this die to general decline of all shows at this point or over-exposure to a single medium?

5. Is this model of release for TV shows (whole seasons released at once) indicative of the future and if so how will this change the amount/quality/variety of content produced?

6. Socially,  how will this model of release impact us both in our interactions (I know half of my time spent with friends is centered on watching new show) and our expectations for how exciting or polished our lives should be? 

As I ponder these somewhat irritating questions  I'm going to make an effort to shut off and appreciate some of that fresh air. While I sit on my beloved Mac there’s a whole real world I’m ignoring.  Arthur’s seat here I come. 

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23 Things that Make Me Happy

I live at extremes. Extremely happy,  hyper, hungry, hungover I’m not a particularly subtle person. However like anyone I do have my down days and those days are awful. 

So instead of curling up in my bed and crying over my dissertation I thought I’d make a list of everything that makes me really, truly happy. Something to reflect on when the Scottish days turn darker and the flat threatens me with frostbite (since tragically I am no longer in charge of the heating).  

When my dog Sage comes and curls up next to me on my bed without being asked.

When I haven't seen my friends in ages and we run up to each other and give each other those proper squeeze the life out of you hugs.

The kind of laughing that continues until I am weeping. This happened recently on a packed train. People started staring which made us laugh even harder. It was the best and the worst. 

When my friends and I are too cheap to go out for karaoke so sit on youtube and scream song lyric videos.

Opening the lid of a dominoes pizza box. 

Male cologne or deodorant, the right amount is the point where you're almost suffocating.

The smell of a summer barbecue. 

When I say something relatable and people get really excited and say OMG SAME.

When my Mum calls me Bethie or writes it in a text.                                                                                                      **Disclaimer: HATE when anyone else calls me this and Bethy-poo really needs to die a death.

This is so lame but I really like exiting the taxi on a night out. You're all dressed up and doing the celebrity modesty shimmy exit. You are a star!

Relatable dancing

The song Dancing in the Moonlight. It makes me half weepy, half a 1970’s interpretive dancer. 

When someone compliments me in person on something they saw on my social media.

When I gain a  follower I actually know  social media.
The made in chelsea theme song #banger. 

Playground ziplines. My dream home would have a room devoted to these. 

When all singers but especially men sing really earnestly and sort of high pitched. It’s like they’re kind of cry singing. 

Long dresses, the kind you have to hold up with one hand. 


Immaculate  handbags. Tidy handbag tidy mind. 

Drunkenly passing out in bed and finally feeling safe. 

Long-Haul airplane flights: the in flight movies, the regular drink refills, the proximity of the bathroom. Bliss. 

Drinking games. Always confusing, always end abruptly, always reveal too much. 

Any kind of Shrek reference.

Getting up ridiculously early. Like 4am early.

The music from Michael Flatley’s River Dance: Lord of the Dance.  

Skip to 2:31 to see the Lord of Dance himself. 

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COOK: Tagliatelle with Caramelised Onions and Dill Yogurt Sauce

So the first thing you’ll notice if you live with me is : I never cook. Never.  My supermarket basket is filled exclusively with salted snacks, pre-made sandwiches and microwave popcorn. On the odd occasion I want hot food Dominoes is merely a phone call away. 

However it wasn't always  this way.  Back in High school  I wasn't sharing a flat for 5 people with a kitchen for half a person. I used to love cooking and baking. I even had bake-offs with my friends ( hint just double the sugar in the recipe and you'll win every time). 

Now back at home where I can command the kitchen I got back into the groove and adapted this Turkish recipe. My Gran told me “lovely Beth” and my Grandad (the quiet type) scraped his plate which equals a winner winner chicken dinner in my mind. 

Here is it:

Tagliatelle with caramelised onions and dill yogurt sauce

(This comfortably served 3)

INGREDIENTS

  

4 medium onions very finely sliced

3 tbsp olive oil

2 bay leaves

Lots of Salt and Pepper 

2 tbsp cinnamon 

2 cloves garlic, crushed

3-4 tbsp sugar 

145g tagliatelle (pasta)

50g Greek yogurt

1½ tbsp milk or buttermilk

2 tbsp dill 

finely crumbled feta to serve

METHOD

1. Put the onions in large pot with the olive oil, bay leaves and cinnamon. Cook over a medium heat, stirring the onions, until golden.
2. Add the garlic and cook for a further two minutes.
3. Add a splash of water, turn the heat down and leave until the onions are caramelised, about 35 minutes. Check on them often and stir to ensure they’re not too dry.
4. 15 minutes before the onions are ready, begin to boil the tagliatelle in water with a little salt. 
5. When the onions are totally soft, remove the lid, season with lots of salt and pepper and boil until any excess liquid is evaporated.
6. Add the yogurt and milk or buttermilk to the onions and heat through but don’t boil. 
7. Drain the pasta and toss it into the pot with the onions, adding the dill.
8. Serve the pasta with a liberal amount of crumbled feta and a little dill on top. 

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13 Personal Questions

So as the title of this post suggests I though I would do a more ‘personal’ post! This tag has been kicking around the blogsphere for years, I first saw it on Zoella’s blog circa 2009. I tag Queen G (youcancallmequeeng.blogspot.co.uk). Here we go!(Mario)

1. What do you order at Starbucks?

Americano no milk and then liberally add sweet and low (about a bucket’s worth). 

HOWEVER the best  drink I ever had at Starbs  was the Caramel Waffle Cone Frappuccino. Upon taking my first sip I realized what Lizzie McGuire was talking about, This is what dreams are made of. 

Coffee, me and a friend 

2. What's one thing in your closet you can't live without?

My white Keds. 

3. What's one thing that most people don't know about you?

Maybe that I really like to draw, especially cartoons. I  am literally terrible at it but for some reason I find it really therapeutic. 

A misconception about me is that I’m not a very outdoorsy person. But I love walking, hiking and have never met a tree I haven't tried to  climb. 

Up a tree, as per 

4. What's one thing you want to do before you die?

• I am desperate to visit Santorini
• I want to adopt a dog and raise it myself 
• Finally I want to ride on the back of a motorbike

(Oops that's  three not one). 

5. What's one food you can't live without?

I mean there is probably no one food I couldn't live without. But in terms of a food group, probably carbs. Big fan of bread based products.

My favorite food group in the form of cake 

6. What phrase or quote do you live by?

Regret is pointless. Unless you did something really morally wrong, the decisions you made in the past were made for a good reason. 

Whether that reason makes sense now or not isn’t really relevant, it did at the time. Without access to a time machine no one has the benefit of hindsight. 

7. What's your number 1 song on your iPod/iTunes?  

Good things by Oscar. That song has such nostalgic indie vibes, I think because Oscar sounds exactly like Morrissey from The Smiths. 

8. What kind of style would you describe yourself as having?

Comfortable, oversized, casual. Very beach meets Scottish weather and Beth is very cold a lot of the time. 

9. Favorite Number?

16

10. Two Hobbies?

Blogging and running. Bonus: Intensive Netflix binging

11. Two pet peeves?

Most of my pet peeves are things I do myself which is infuriating as it makes me a blatant hypocrite.

• I hate getting interrupted or when someone seems bored by the conversation we’re having. 

• Toilet humor. It makes me uncomfortable and weirdly angry.  And it's not like a squeamish person, I worked for a year at a care home!

12. What would you most like to change about yourself?

Personality wise, maybe how anxious and worried I get about minor things. Looks wise, I wish I was naturally tan. 

13. Guilty pleasure? 

Humiliating but true: listening to Aqua. Yes the band that gave us Barbie Girl. I could listen to their album Aquarium on repeat for days. 

Dancing, probably to Aqua

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