A Trip To Florence

Thursday the 10th June saw me, my husband and some friends standing in Coopers field, Cardiff waiting for Florence & The Machine to come on stage.  As excited as a kitten, I'd been looking forward to this concert for quite a while.  

Since listening to the album 'Lungs' at the end of 2009 I've been rapidly falling in love with Florence Welch.  I'm afraid as well as a wonderful ethereal voice and legs that don't seem to end, Florence also has a wardrobe I would give my right eye for.  

The concert was held in a large, open circus tent and it was a little claustrophobic as around 30,000 fans tried to inch towards the stage.  Thankfully we'd claimed our spot reasonably early and had a relatively good view. 

I freely admit to being a bit of an odd concert go-er.  While a view is wonderful, I seem to spend most of my time with my eyes closed just letting the music wash over me.  The sound at Coopers field was, as expected for such a large gig, pretty shite.  However, we were close enough to be able to feel the music and hear it reasonably well.  Anytime poor Florence spoke however, I don't think any of us heard a word.  Still, lets be honest, I wasn't there to hear how she'd spent her day. I was there to hear her sing and sing she did!

The concert kicked of with 'Howl' which is one of my favorites from the album.  A savage song, about carnal lust which I just can't get enough of: 

"The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground"

This raw, animalistic sentiment is in a lot of her songs and when you consider her porcelain appearance, you'd be forgiven for thinking the concert would be a rather tame affair but far from it, the girl performed with a wild fury that really befits her lyrics.

Florence also performed a new track which sounded fantastic. I think it was called 'Strageness', although to be fair, with the poor sound I could be completely wrong. 

Other personal highlights included, Girl With One Eye, Cosmic Love, Dog Days Are Over and Rabbit Heart.  All of which built to a rather orgasmic climax.

The only negatives of the night were the crappy sound and the claustrophobic heat.  I left craving a bottle of water, longer set list, 2nd album & another concert!

Nothing Like a Bit of Affirmation In The Morning

As I sat on the bus this morning I noticed an oddly life affirming piece of graffiti scored into the back of the seat in front of me.

‘Live my life. Live life - love life’

It brightened my morning to think of some ‘yoof’ in hooded top and low riding jeans carving secretly into the back of the seat while others looked on shaking their heads and muttering "bloody kids" under their breath.

I was tempted to take a photograph of it but alas someone sat on the seat in front and I didn’t want them to think I was taking a photo of their arse.

Cover Version

Just watched last week’s episode of The Blame Game (Norn Ire’s version of Have I Got News You) and it had a classic line in it.

While discussing Ronan Keating’s much publicised affair with a model that looks just like his wife one member of the panel piped in with:

“Only a member of Boyzone would end up doing a cover of his wife”

I'm sure Ronan's wife didn't find it particularly funny.  Still, made me laugh.

Prince of Where?

Yesterday my hubby and I decided we were long overdue a trip to the cinema. To be honest, it was slim picking with regards to movies but we settled on ‘The Prince of Persia’ or as it’s better known among my circle of friends ‘The Shirtless Jake Gyllenhaal Movie’.

I have to admit it wasn’t too bad at all. Enough action and one liners to keep my interest perked without overdoing it and it looked rather impressive as well.

One thing that was a little distracting however was Jake Gyllenhaal’s accent. In the movie his character seems to have an English accent. Which is lovely and to my ears, not a bad effort, but, every so often it veered into Russell Brand! My Persian history is limited, granted, but I’m not sure that Russell Brand is the best person to base your Persian Prince on.

Still, the movie gets a thumb up because Jake Gyllenhaal looked superb and it wasn’t overly long like most bloody films these days!

If you happen to be scared of snakes by the way I would give this film a wide wide birth. It does have some truly horrendous snake moments!

Why Must I Be A (Perpetual) Teenager In Love?

When you think of schlock 50's teen movies you'd be forgiven for thinking of Grease first.  I can assure you however that if Grease tops your list then you've missed out on the masterpiece that is Cry Baby.  

Starring a very young (and hot) Johnny Depp I still adore this movie!  Having keenly followed Johnny in 21 Jump Street this film only fanned my rather large crush on Mr Johnny Depp. 

Recently however I've been reintroduced to the film thanks to burlesque class.  I literally jumped for joy when I found out that our main dance routine was to be done the track 'Please Mr Jailer' from the movie! This led to an almighty urge to re-watch the film. So watch it I did . . . 

After all these years I'm very happy to say it didn't disappoint.  It's still as funny, corny and sexy as it was when I was 10 years old.  More impressive however is that Johnny Depp, 20 years later, continues to make my heart skip a couple of beats.

I'm convinced there is some sort of witchcraft involved.  How else would the man still be able to reduce me to the state of lovestruck teenager after all this time?  And he is getting hotter! There must be a Dorian Gray style portrait decaying in some locked attic room or a devil at a cross roads rubbing his hands in glee at the prospect of collecting on this one.  I'm not complaining.  Trust me, I'm happy to continue 'admiring' Johnny Depp for many decadent years to come but it would be nice to be able to maintain some sort of maturity while doing so.

As for burlesque, well last night we got to learn the first part of our 'Please Mr Jailer' routine.  It was a tremendous night and I'm loving the routine despite it being truly exhausting!  We were paired off in a showdown of 2 femme fatales begging for the release of their lover, all of which culminates in a 'shimmy off'.  Yep, you guessed it, I love my Tuesdays nights!  My hubby doesn't seem too put out by them either.  Go figure!

Check out 'Please Mr Jailer' below. 

You Say Tomato . . .

Overheard on the bus today:

"She said that Helen called her a slag but there's no way Helen would say that.  She never uses language like that, she only called her a whore."

Oh I see.  Obviously no offense intended  by Helen then!

You Know It's a Good Day When . . .

 . . . you arrive home from work to find dinner is cooking & your husband is doing the hoovering in his underwear.

I'm spoilt.

To Sir With Love

Next to overheard conversations, unintentional innuendo has to be one of my favourite things.

Recently in work we were having a conversation about how we sometimes associate a particular sex with a profession. For instance we all automatically jumped to the conclusion that a university dean was a man.  A Judge, yep once again a man.

However once we got to Head Teacher it all went slightly awry when one colleague announced:

"You know head doesn't make me think of men"

Sometimes you can know a little too much about the people you work with!

Baked Alaska Anyone?

I consider myself a reasonably intelligent person (most days). I have to admit though I'm rather baffled by the phrase:

 'Liberal Conservative Government'

Anyone else seeing the problem here?!  

The Continued Misadventures of Lany B D'Lamour

Well last week I started my brand spanking new Ministry Of Burlesque accredited class. Yes you read that right, The Ministry of Burlesque. Having enjoyed my few taster sessions I'm now aiming to master the strut and peel.

Dressed like an extra from Fame my friend & I drove to our dance studio. Thirty minutes later as we pulled into a virtually abandoned industrial estate we had a moment of doubt. Was this really a good idea?

My fabulous new instructor (Miss Pretty S'vere!) taught us to slink and pose like Marilyn Monroe, a PussyCat doll or Weight Watcher of the week. To be honest, at this stage, most of my poses look more like belly pose 1, belly pose 2 & side belly pose. Still, with time (and a diet) I reckon I'll be able to pull it off.

Next week we start learning peels. Gloves on week 2 progressing to pants on week 6! Now I must admit this leaves me a little baffled as to what the following weeks will consist of as pants sort of seem like the limit of clothing removal to me (just to stop the inevitable nightmares, I will tell you now, I shan't be running round the studio in my scanties. Any clothing we remove is worn Superman style).

I must admit I'm loving the whole thing. It's so much fun and I've met some lovely people. In short it's got to be right up there in top ten things you can do while taking your clothes off.

Oh and apparently I also need a proper Burlesque name, most suggestions welcome!

Truly Deflated

You haven't experienced crushing disappointment 'til you get home to find your brand new sexy bluray boxset of True Blood has arrived, only to open it and find it's a box of tampons!

Pissed off doesn't even come close!

Wrong In So Many Ways

Overheard conversations, don't you just love 'em? I'll be honest, there's nothing more likely to make me smile than a snippet of random conversation. Oh, except for dogs with their head out the car window. THAT wins every time.

While walking to work this morning I overheard the following gem of conversation:

“You remember Saeed? Yeah, well you see he was Muslim, but he had a little bit of Christian in him as well?”

 Let it never be said Cardiff isn't a religiously diverse city.  

Ps. Well you guessed it, I'm back to feeling my bouncy and spry self again.  Shame I still sound like a chatline perv.

Normal Service Will Resume Shortly

As I currently have a very sore throat, I thought I would explain my lack of posts through the art of dingbats.

Which basically means:

 

Jesus, the New Usain Bolt?

I’m sort of infamous for my blonde moments. I’ve had a few crackers in my time which will haunt me for the rest of my days. However, after my friend’s comment this weekend I feel I can safely hand over my trophy for ‘Platinum Blonde Moment’.

While sitting beside Roath Park Lake staring out at the water, my super friend raised the following brainteaser:

“Do you think if you ran fast enough you could make it to the other side?”

After a moments reflection the unanimous response was “NO!”

Undeterred she continued, “No, but I mean if you ran really really fast?”

My husband replied “You know in the Bible when Jesus walks on water? I don’t think they meant us to interpret that as ‘he was a really good athlete’”

Bring On The Men

I’m not sure what happens to Cardiff in the sunshine but it seems no matter where I look the world is brimming with hot men! On my walk to work this morning it seemed that every man walking past me was straight out of a page in GQ.

My very understanding hubby won’t mind this new development too much I suspect. He’s found me ogling him too many times too mention! But after pondering this stroke of luck for the last hour or so, I feel that there are 3 possible reasons for this mornings man fest:

1. There just so happened to be a hot male model marathon passing by my route to work this morning. Hooray for me! What are the odds?
2. I’m due an eye test.
3. The ‘dirty thirties’ have kicked of early & I can expect to feel this hormonal from now on.

While I would love for it to be No.1, I have a feeling that I’m not quite that lucky & I know for certain that No.2 isn’t the reason. That leaves, alas, No.3.

Now, on the surface No.3 isn’t so bad. Ogling young men is a good & nourishing act. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a bit of window shopping to perk up your morning walk. However, as I have discovered this new hormonal me has its drawbacks. Take it from me people; it’s an oddly humiliating & grounding experience to find yourself stopped in the middle of the road licking your lips at the guy that stopped to let you pass.

Curse these mortal longings of mine!

Happy Fecking Birthday!

What do you get the kid who has everything for their birthday?  Apparently a heart attack, at least so the Swiss believe.

Dominic Deville is an entertainer who is hired by parents as a birthday 'treat' for their child.  Not only does he look like something out of a horror film but he actually stalks the child for a week before it's birthday leaving threatening notes, texts & prank calls!  The culmination of this week of 'fun' is a cake in the child's face.  So, nothing remotely sinister about that then!  Seriously, read the article in today's Metro.  It has to be read to be believed.  You can check out the article here. 

Now call me old fashioned  but I'm just not sure an evil stalking clown is what I'd been getting my (theoretical) child for it's birthday.  A pram or a bike perhaps might be more appropriate, however what do I know I'm not a parent?  

They say parenthood changes you.  What I didn't know is it turned you into a twisted psycho who thinks that a lifetime of counseling is a suitable birthday gift!!!*

All I can say is thank God this guy wasn't around when I was growing up.  I have a feeling my parents would have liked the idea.

* I know there are a LOT of exclamation marks in this blog post.  However I do feel it warrants a few more !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Equal Opportunities

Just come across this lovely advert for a Production Trainee at Channel 4.  It's opens with the line:

 "Disabled? Talented? It’s a win-win."

Umm i'm not sure they've quite gotten the hang of this equal opportunities malarky!

It's Back!

Bout ye!  Some exciting news for anyone from Northern Ireland or Scotland.  It seems that due due to popular demand (probably by out of work dentists) someone has seen fit to re-release Creamola Foam!  Creamola Foam for fecks sake.  Now rebranded as Kremola Fizz, this is indeed exciting news! 

For many years now I've been talking to my Welsh counterparts about this mythical product and they all thought I had lost my mind. Well it seems the good Lord in his wisdom has taken heed of my plight and bestowed the recipe on some lucky sod.  This time around though he also gave the bugger some business acumen as at £4 a tub nostalgia isn't cheap!  

I have many fond memories of this stuff however.  I remember slurping it from the glass before it exploded, the lovely fragrant scum left behind afterwards and lets not forget the ultimate endurance challenge, a spoonful straight from the tub!  Needless to say I'll be ordering my first tub shortly! 

I wonder if it will live up to my expectations? You can read more here.

No Strings Attached

It seems you can get almost anything delivered to your house these days. Anything from alcohol to cigarettes, roast dinners and umm tampons!?

Yes Ladies, thanks to 'Trinkets', you can now have a 'discreet' box of tampons dropped through your letterbox every 4 weeks as a beautiful reminder that you are about to go through hell or as the website prefers to puts it:

'Trinkets tampons will make you feel good about your period. Period!'

Make me feel good about my period? Really? I'm sorry but no amount of pretty packaging & soft pastels will make me feel happy that I'm about to shed my innards & have my entire body racked with stabbing pains, not to mention of course just generally feeling gross & devil like. Forget all that though ladies, look, cute packaging! See, now isn't that better?

Actually this isn't even the most nauseating marketing spiel I've encountered for tampons. Moxie wins that award hands down. The Moxie products are strewn with little mantras that make me want to throw up. Look at this little gem from their 'boudoir' range:

'Every day should be special . . . spoil yourself'

I'm sorry? Spoil myself? Unless there's a triple chocolate cake and bottle of Dom Perignon in the box I think I'm going to struggle to 'spoil myself' with a tampon! Oh, and in case some smart arse thinks they have the answer, I would like to add that the instructions strictly forbid use of more than one at a time.

As a smart, independent woman I would like to say that this type of marketing is offensive, demeaning and ineffective. However, as I actually own several of Moxie's 'purse worthy retro style tins' I can only hang my head in shame and tut loudly.

Alice, Alice, Who the F*ck Is Alice?

Well this week I’ve had my rather fabulous Mother over for a visit. Unlike most people I adore my parents coming to stay and we have a lot of fun. Over the last few days we’ve drunk too much, ate too much, walked too much and no doubt, spent too much. What could be better than a Tuesday afternoon spent sipping Champagne cocktails by the water, eh?

Apart from the wide variety of cocktails, one of the things we did was go to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D. If you haven’t seen it I would highly suggest you do.

The 3D is pretty damn stunning & the movie itself is just beautiful with one of the best casts I’ve seen in a long long time. Stephen Fry is sublime as the Cheshire Cat, Johnny Depp’s performance as the Mad Hatter is very touching & Anne Hathaway’s prissy White Queen made me laugh every time she was on screen.

Huge props to the young girl who plays Alice though. She was superb. I believe she was a complete unknown and yet she manages to hold her own in a rather spectacular cast. I imagine my performance in similar circumstances would have been a lot less accomplished & a lot more X rated (Johnny Depp still manages too look hot! How the hell does he do it?).

All in all it’s a fantastic film & if you get the chance, go see it, preferably in 3D!

As for my Mum, well she went home yesterday which is always depressing. However, spending the night dancing to Hey Big Spender in my latest Burlesque class helped ease the pain (metaphorically speaking. Physically my knees are killing me from ‘dippin it low’ all night).

Tonight I’m off to see Dirk Benedict from the A team aka The Face as Columbo.  I like my life.