2013. Time to get off your ass.

Congratulations! The very fact that you're reading this means that you, like me, survived the Mayan Apocalypse. Which, when you think about it, feels pretty cool. But, more importantly than giving us that feeling of invulnerability that inevitably succeeds each unsuccessful doomsday, it gives us something FAR more important. That kick in the ass that tells us life should be taken advantage of. So, when it's strategically placed so close to the start of a new year, it's hard not to see it as an invitation to make the next twelve months (And, if you're following my logic here, by extension the rest of your life) just completely amazing. 

It's no small secret that 2012 was, for me personally, the happiest year I've had in a very long time. And that's why I believe 2013 can be even better. 

So, because I believe in making your own awesomeness, to ensure is fabulous, I sat down on New Years Eve and wrote 13 things down that I'd love to accomplish in the next year. (Thirteen. Like the year. Get it?) They weren't massive things- one was simply to finally read Paradise Lost. There WERE some big ones on there, but they'll just be all the more fulfilling when they're accomplished. 

Step two, after compiling the list, was to seal it in an envelope marked 31st December, 2013. Next New Years Eve, I intend to open the envelope and see how many of these things I managed to achieve. If I've crossed them all off... well, I think it's safe to say, that would entail a particularly epic year. 

I mean, this year, we survived the end of the world. It's all up hill from there, right?

Happy New Year!

Who's Les? And why is he miserable?

It's no secret that I am a pretty unashamed musical theatre fag. I mean, I'm planning a trip to New York pretty much for the sole purpose of seeing as many broadway shows as is medically possible, so, you know, when it comes to musicals, "obsession" is putting it mildly.

And one of the first live shows I ever saw (certainly the most dramatic, bar one particularly scarring version of Jesus Christ Superstar I still remember from a Newcastle Amateur Dramatics society that may or may not be responsible for my current atheism), was, like most blossoming young theatre queens, was Les Miserables. It's such a solid, resonating show that the memories of that first performance stick with me to this day, and in no small part shaped me into the tragic musical aficionado I am today.

So, long story short (that ship probably sailed a paragraph back), I was pretty excited for the movie. Which I saw at an advanced screening yesterday, and thoroughly enjoyed. It was amazing. Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman absolutely nailed the show, the cinematography was fabulous, and the score was as amazing as always (apart from several songs being in the wrong spot, which just made me feel like I'd set my iPod playlist to shuffle by mistake). And over the coming months, a lot will probably be written about all the positives of Les Miz, as it's a movie that had a lot going for it. But I'm sorry, I just wouldn't be me if I didn't have SOMETHING to complain about, and that something?

Russell. Fucking. Crowe. 

Ok, I'm sure someone, somewhere, thought that having Hugh and Russell face off as Javert and Valjean seemed like a good idea, and you know what? On paper, I agree completely. They're both great actors, and they both bring a lot to their respective roles. HOWEVER. I hope that person got their fucking arses fired the MOMENT someone heard Russell open his mouth and (and I use this term loosely...) sing for the first time. It was painful! And it was just further reinforced by the strength of the rest of the cast. Don't get me wrong- he acted the utter shit out of the role, but there must have been SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE that could have done that AND not sounded like they had the vocal range of a crumpet. You know, someone like anyone that has ever portrayed the role before in their entire fucking lives?????

It's a shame that what could have been such an amazing movie will inevitably cop a lot of shit for this one example of complete miscasting. Because it WAS a great movie. But seriously, when is Hollywood going to stop casting people that can't sing in musicals? Remember this: 

No. Because you, like everyone else, blocked it from your mind. And I'm so terribly sorry for reminding you. 

Seriously Hollywood. Get your shit together. Love, Mikey. xoxo

Tis The Season...again.

What's better than my favourite Christmas Carol in the whole world? That's right. The Muppets, performing my favourite Christmas Carol in the whole world. Carol of the Bells, which, until recently, I knew as "You know! That one from Home Alone 2 that goes Dunn Dunndunndunn!" (not surprisingly, not many people knew it...). I learnt the name of it last week, and haven't stopped humming it since. Christmas is fun like that. 

I find that now I'm not in retail anymore, I'm able to enjoy Christmas a lot more again, which is good. A retail christmas truly is a horrendous experience, and that scarred me for a little while, but at heart, it's a time of year that I really do enjoy, mostly because it just promotes fabulousness as a way of life. Glitter, twinkling lights, singing, snow machines- there's really not much to dislike about this time of year. (except for customers. man, those guys are dicks).

I love that I have an excuse to watch cheesy Christmas movies (so far this year, I've crossed off The Grinch, Nightmare Before Christmas, Muppets Family Christmas, Muppets Letter to Santa, and The Doctor Who special A Christmas Carol... and we've still got two weeks before the big day!) which I avoid like the bubonic plague from January to November. I love that I have an excuse to wish people "Merry Christmas" and not risk being locked away somewhere. And I love that, for one month of the year, even someone as bitter and cynical as me gets to look on the bright side of life and find new reasons to appreciate the people around me. Ah, Christmas! It's weird- obviously all the religious connotations of the event are lost on me (you know... because I'm sane) but I still think it truly is spectacular. I blame all the Christmas Specials I've overdosed on over the course of my life convincing me to be nice to people for a few weeks. 

It also helps that I'm really looking forward to giving presents to people this year. I've often prided myself in my ability to give awesome, thoughtful presents, but this year? I don't want to oversell it, but this year, I genuinely think I've stumbled upon my greatest triumph. There's nothing worse than giving a gift you're not one hundred percent on board with, but conversely, being able to give someone something that you know is a complete winner? And not just a winner, but possibly the greatest gift any human being has ever given another living creature? Now THATS what Christmas is all about. Well, that and drinking too much and wishing you owned a snow machine. 

You know why I don't post more?

You know why I don't post more? You know, apart from the fact I don't think anybody actually reads this? It's because sometimes, the almost Herculean effort required to actually log in to this damn site to post whatever inane ramblings are currently trying to tumble clear out of my brain just doesn't seem worth it!

I am, primarily, a lazy person, so the fact I go to any effort at all is a feat in and of itself. But throw up even the tiniest road block (like a forgotten password, or a slower than usual internet connection that seems to continually plague me whenever the mood strikes me to churn out a post) and I'm ready to give up faster than...well... shit. See, I'm too lazy to even properly finish that amusing metaphor. 

And sure. A smarter person may well decide to keep a well-placed post-it note listing passwords and login details, but please. See above re: lazy. And stop being so damn judgemental. 

Bah. Humbug.

Ugh. It's that time of year again. It's weird, you know. As someone that LOVES Christmas (let's be honest- what's not to love. It's an excuse to wear tinsel, everything sparkles, and once a year, it's socially acceptable to sing Christmas Carols to your hearts desire) I really, REALLY hate the entire song and dance that surrounds my least favourite part of the season: The Work Christmas Party. 

I'm not sure what I find SO repulsive. Maybe it's the idea of being forced to spend time with people you already have to see far too regularly in a social setting against your will. Perhaps it's the inevitable small talk of "So. How's work?" that ensues when people that really have very little to discuss are forced to discover some sort of common ground, regardless of how tenuous or droll. OR, maybe I'm just antisocial. Who can say? 

But, regardless of the reason, the fact remains. This Friday night is my work Christmas party, and I'm looking forward to it about as much as I'm looking forward to The Hobbit. Which is none. Because fuck Tolkein. It's not even because I dislike my workmates! I don't! I genuinely like a whole bunch of them- they're solid peeps. But the idea of standing around at a work function (after spending eight hours at work that day already!) just doesn't excite me. And you can tell I mean it, because I'm using far more exclamation marks than is socially acceptable. 

Never mind. I'll probably go. My indignation and uptight morality do tend to waver somewhat when faced with an open bar. So I'll drink their free wine. But I wont enjoy it. How's THAT for Christmas Spirit?

Nobody panic! It's under control!

You know, if it's good enough for Cher, then it's DEFINITELY good enough for me. And I mean, December? How perfect! What could be more satisfying for Christmas than new material on here? You're welcome, Internet! Well. By internet, I mean the one or two people that still optimistically check this out, and the few other strangers that were tragically led astray by dodgy Google results. (To those people... I'm sorry. So very sorry.)

Anyway, what's happening with Mikey?

Well, University is a thing, at last! I'm currently half way through a bachelor of Social Science at University of Newcastle! (Don't ask me to elaborate on what Social Science specifically entails- I'm still not one hundred percent sure either.) The end game is hopefully that it will help me finally get into a career where I'm helping people, as opposed to preying on them, as seems to be the general trend developed in my past jobs, in retail and banking. Currently waiting eagerly for my final results to be released for Semester Two, and knowing I've passed two out of three of my courses. The only one really bothering me is Psychology. I'm teetering on the brink of a fail there, but I'll see. It all comes down to my performance in the final exam, which was hopefully enough to secure the nine or so marks I needed to bag a pass. I think I can sadly say, with some certainty, that my aspirations of becoming the next Frasier Crane have been mercilessly dashed, BUT in my defense... psychology proved to be a stupid course. So there's that. 

What else?

Oh, Sarah and I have FINALLY booked our trip to New York! So THATS a thing, at long long last! Next year I can finally cross seeing a broadway show off my bucket list (But fuck me- Book of Mormon tickets are bloody expensive!!) We're staying in a Hostel off Broadway for ten days in April, and it promises to be a trip of a lifetime. I feel that Sarah and my friendship has been building towards this moment since the very start- it's going to be amazing. We're doing ALLLLL the touristy things- Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller Plaza, Central Park... and did I mention Broadway? Basically, we're cramming as many shows in as humanly possible. If I don't come back a little gayer, I'm asking for a refund. Although I DID start this post with a picture of Cher. I'm not sure if "a little gayer" really sits within the realm of possibility any more...

And finally, BIG news...

This is ALSO a thing. His name is Dean, and, at the risk of sounding sappy... I'm a pretty huge fan. Oh god. I've become one of THOSE people. I'm blogging about my boyfriend. (Bet you're REALLY regretting clicking that Google link now, aren't you, poor stranger!) But yeah. This is new and exciting and lovely, and more importantly, it's inspired me to write again. So, expect more of these. Hopefully. And remember. If you haven't got anything nice to say... come sit by me!

It was the blurst of times...

I was talking to Beau the other day (That's right: he of the Tightly Buttoned Sleeves ) about how badly I wish I could start blogging again, but how whenever I tried, I always seemed to be in the midst of the general series of ridiculous occurrences that pretty much define my existence. Anytime I gave it a go, it felt like I was trying to explain an episode of an established television show to someone that had thoroughly enjoyed the first few episodes of season one.

To put that in context, imagine jumping from the Buffy pilot to the Season Four finale, without ANY of the backstory of what filled in the gaps. We're talking THAT level of incomprehension. Most of the characters look the same, but where we are, and how we got there? And why Willow is kissing girls now? That takes build up. But Beau convinced me to just ignore all of that. Pick something, and run with it. We can fill the back-story in as we go.

And at the moment, the thing REALLY occupying my mind a lot, is Borders. The bookshop that featured so heavily in my life over the last few years has gone into receivership. They're closing the doors, and soon, they'll just be a memory. So many good people that I'll always remember fondly have been made redundant, and for some inexplicable reason, even though I haven't worked there in over a year, it feels like a really personal loss. Which is dumb. I hated working there in the end. It was a nightmare. I used to sit in my car and just cry after a shift sometimes. It was THAT level of awful.

But the people? Some of the best people I've ever known, I only met because of that place. In a time in my life where everything was falling apart because of my breakup with Michael, these people provided stability, and acceptance, and became family. If it wasn't for Borders, Parkhill never would have become what it is today, and I shudder to think the person I would have become without the love and guidance of those amazing people.

Which is why it seems so strange to think, some time soon, the doors will close, the lights will go out, and the shelves that WE put up and filled with our bare hands will be disassembled and destroyed. Kind of devastating really. To make matters worse, souring what should have been a time of solidarity and togetherness, a rogue bitchy element in the place seem to have made it their mission to fuck heavily with Sarah, a crime I don't forgive lightly, and which led to me being UNinvited to the Borders Farewell. (How childish is THAT!) Which sucks. Because I'd love to drink to the stores memory with people that I haven't seen in so long, united in the knowledge that WE had something to do with the places success. But I can't go to an event like that and look the people that betrayed one of MY best friends in the eyes. I'm just not wired for that.

But whatever. The beauty of memories is that they last forever, and the beauty of that place is I made friendships that even now, years down the line, I know I'll carry with me for the rest of my life. Much like the way you never forget a REALLY good book. It's never far from your heart.