25 with a bullet

Once upon a time in a land called the early 90s (if you don’t remember it, you can just bite me), Angel Delight was a delicacy, flourescent cycling shorts were de rigeur, and all the pop stars and movie icons were proper grown ups. Having just watched Miley Cyrus in 3D (when the hell did that come back in fashion by the way? Anyone remember Smellovision? I’m still waiting for my nostril plugs…) I suddenly feel so old. 

It seems that nowadays pop stars are younger than your little sister (with clothes and cars that are more trendy than yours), Topshop sells trousers so small that even your elf like 11 year old self would struggle to fit into them, and if you happen to have reached the age of 25, you’re considered an ‘over’ in X Factor terms, as if there’s some hill you’ve clambered on top of in the past year that you’re now sliding down - fast.

The over 30s among you will be shaking your jowly necks in disagreement reading this. ”You’re a baby! Shut up!” (I get that a lot. It feels great!) However, think on this: In the most recent ’hot 30 under 30 list’ I saw (it might have been People magazine or some other highly reliable source), more than half the listees were actually under the age of 25. That’s fricking depressing. Does that mean half of us cease being hot at 25? It’s so unfair. (Sorry about the jowly thing by the way, I take my shots where I can, it seems I haven’t got long left to take them).

Back when I was a wee nipper, I was promised I’d get my chance ‘when I was a grown up’. Unfortunately it seems to have skipped a generation and now all these young whippersnappers are so busy being hot and clever and talented that a whole bunch of us missed the boat. This was the generation weaned on Dawson’s Creek. Perhaps we were too busy having over complicated on/off relationships, using long words we didn’t understand and navel gazing to actually do anything useful?

Oh well. We probably wouldn’t have known what to do with it anyway. Pass us another bowl of Angel Delight…

This week, Gina has been mostly…trying to persuade everyone she knows to grow a tache like Earl Hickey’s for ‘Movember‘. For those who can’t grow one, why not draw it on? Classy!

Enough with the tinsel!

At the risk of sounding too much like a certain Mr Scrooge - what’s with all the Christmas stuff? Seriously, it’s not even December yet! I counted six crimbo related ads during last week’s X Factor (which by the way, would be incredibly dull if it weren’t for those creepy/fascinating clones Jedward). The straw that broke the grouch’s back came during a visit to Accessorize where I had intended to purchase a cute woolly hat (a la Natalie Portman) to wear to work and came across row upon row of glittery baubles filled with knickers - part of the Christmas gift range.

I love sparkly bauble knickers as much as the next girl, but seriously, it’s far too early to be thinking about the festive season. I didn’t even get to see the fireworks yet. (I thought it was remember, remember the 25th November - don’t ask!)

Why are we such a bloody hurry nowadays? Why can’t we just enjoy the holidays and happy days when they actually arrive, as opposed to it being so far in advance that you’ve forgotten all about it when the day finally comes? The whole world seems to be suffering from an inexplicable case of scabby knee syndrome - we have to pinch and prod at things for weeks in advance until every last globule of joy has seeped out of it. So enjoy your Christmas goo while you can - it won’t be long before it crusts over again.

(P.S. I’m a total hypocrite because I just planned my New Year’s Eve party and invited all my friends on Facebook. And yes, I did buy the bauble knickers. So there!)

This week Gina has been mostly…crying into her Take That hankie after hearing Mark Owen finally got married. That should have been meeeee!

Tags: Christmas, General rants, Mark Owen

Jour-NO-list

Yes, I know, bad blogger. It’s been five months since my last confession - six if you discount my strange and obsessive divergence into the world of Eurovision in May. It’s been a busy few months, what with the economy collapsing, the postmen going on strike (again) and the end of the world being on the way (according to the Mayans, who apparently knew, like, everything except how to build roads or cars or make ice cream or anything good like that).

Anyway, I’ve been too busy getting jaded. I went on a ridiculous press trip recently (the details of which I’ll spare for another day) where I met a few hacks of a certain age - you know the ones, they all carry teeny tiny notepads with itsy bitsy pencils that they stick behind their ears at press conferences. When you tell them you’re an online journalist they snort and ask you if you’re on MySpace (umm, even my mum has quit MySpace now, get with it gramps!) Seeing their twisted grins when PRs got flustered and hearing their endless whinges about rubbish service on European flights (which they never pay for anyway as they blag it for free), made me worry. Am I turning into them? Do I want to turn into them? Is it too late?

As a journalist, it’s easy to spend your life saying no. We get thousands of misplaced calls from confused PRs every day. “Do you want to write about my dull as dishwater product?” No (but can I have one anyway?). “Do you want to come to my super boring event and write a super boring review while drinking tepid tea?” No (not unless there’s champagne afterwards). “Would you like to interview my boss/friend/cat about a topic completely unrelated to what you do?” No (but what sort of cat do you have?).

It’s not that you want to be a grumpy old curmudgeon, it’s just that so much crap gets thrown at you every day, something has to give. Pity the poor PRs paid with a currency called ‘yes’ in a world full of ‘no’. Actually, don’t feel too sorry for them, they get paid way more than we do - and I bet they don’t have to fly economy class either!

This week Gina has been mostly…looking forward to seeing all-time dancehall legends Chaka Demus & Pliers and Shabba Ranks in concert and wondering if white girls can jump.

Tags: economy, journalism, PR

Eurovision: A fairytale ending

In Eurovision, as in space, the Russians were determined to show they’re bigger, better and faster than the rest and by golly did they give it a good crack. The ginormous Olimpiysky Arena was packed to the rafters with crazed glittered Eurofans waving flags (curiously I could only spot one Union Jack on tv being waved by a fat baldy man…perhaps the rest had given up the ghost).

As predicted, Norwegian Zac Effron-alike Alexander Rybak stole the show with his performance of the fiddletastic ‘Fairytale’. It was a runaway success, with the bushy eyebrowed midget overtaking the competition early on in the proceedings. The UK was in second place for about five minutes at the start, before being cruelly overtaken by some surprise surges from unexpected quarters. Poor old Jade Ewen (who gave a sterling performance looking absolutely stunning but unfortunately got hit in the face by a rogue violin bow) finished in at a respectable fifth. Here’s the final top five:

1. Norway: Alexander Rybak - Fairytale
2. Iceland: Yohanna - Is it true?
3. Azerbaijan: AySel & Arash - Always
4. Turkey: Hadise - Dum Tek Tek
5. United Kingdom: Jade Ewen - It’s my Time

For the full results take a look here.

The big disappointment of the night (or maybe just mine and theirs) was Greece’s Sakis Rouvas, who only made it to number 7 after having been tipped as a hot favourite alongside Norway’s entry. Sakis wore a very tight white two piece combo (not so flattering I must admit) and my theory is that a wardrobe malfunction involving a star jump, a popped button and a peeping nipple cost him points from some of the more conservative European nations. It was just like Janet Jackson at the Superbowl, only less masculine. I didn’t still love him though…

The new voting system appears to have worked in that the front runners are made up of a mixed bag of Eastern and Western countries and the scoring was suitably odd as to suggest that the choices were based on the bizarre tastes of our European neighbours, as opposed to political voting. The Guardian has a more sophisticated theory than me, however. Check out this rather enlightening piece called ‘Bloc Busting: A geopolitical guide to Eurovision’.

It was written before the event but many of it’s predictions are scarily accurate. Despite my erroneous love for Greece though, I didn’t lose too much money this year. My dosh was on Norway…

Next year: I love Eurovision so much and I say it every year, but in 2010 I am absolutely determined to go to Norway and be a part of it. Now I just have to work out how to get tickets and save up. Watch out Alexander…I’m on my way!

Tags: Alexander Rybak, eurovision, Jade Ewen

Eurovision semi final part one: The West strikes back

Semi final number one of Eurovision tonight and the heat is on because not everyone is going to make it to Saturday’s grand final. Once again, I’m going to fill you in on all the gossip and give you an update on some of those barmy Europeans we met last time.

As everyone knows, the sun always sets in the West, so could the competition head our way this time? While the bookies think it’s likely a Western country will be in with a sporting chance this year due to new voting procedures designed to split up those Eastern block comrades, Rome wasn’t built in a day. In other words, don’t hold your breath.

Norway’s pint sized pop heart throb Alexander (who I named my ‘fittie of the future’ last time) is the betting crowds’ favourite to win. It turns out he’s 23, so it’s all perfectly legal. Phew! The bookies are also sharing my preference for Sakis from Greece (he’s second favourite) plus I’m awarding him my ‘fittie of the Eurovision year’ award, so he’s already won in a way.

Apparently, Andrew Lloyd Webber thinks Turkey is our biggest competition and I have to admit, I still love it. Dum Tek Tek (or ‘boom bang-a-bang’), while not an original title, is a brilliant hip shaker and judging by tonight’s performance she’s Eurovision gold. Also notable is Ukraine, who are the main Eastern block favourite and have men running around in hamster wheels are part of the act.
Those who made it through tonight’s semi final round were:

• Turkey (DUM TEK TEK! Boo ya!)

• Sweden (opera diva with Shirley Bassey style)
• Israel (political mumbo jumbo – turn off my ears please!)
• Portugal (lovely hippie dippy folk band with a cheerful song)
• Malta (it ain’t over til the fat lady sings)
• Finland (fire, explosions and not a correct note hit)
• Bosnia Herzigovina (the legion of the undead)
• Romania (sugar plum fairies with great legs)
• Armenia (wicked Bollywood witches of the East)
• Iceland (cute girl singer in a dress like a loo roll holder).

1. This lot will be joining the five pre qualified countries: France, Germany, Spain and UK (all big financial backers of the competition), as well as Russia (the reigning champions). Russia can’t afford to win again, while the other four almost certainly won’t because everyone else hates that we bought our way in. One to watch out for in this group is Germany, who have a Ricky Martin look-a-like as their act and burlesque star Dita Von Teese dancing the background.

   The next semi final is on Thursday and will see ten more finalists going through, which will make Saturday’s line up for the final an even 25. The UK doesn’t get a vote on Thursday as it’s a different group to our own (all part of those complicated new voting procedures I mentioned last time). Bonne chance to everyone!

   Tags: eurovision

Freaks, squeaks and geeks

As promised in my last post, I’m back with a run down of some of this year’s kooky contenders for the Eurovision trophy.

Our girl
Jade Ewen - It’s My Time
I’ll start with the UK entry, as I’m not sure many people watched the crappy BBC1 campfest hosted by Graham Norton and Andrew Lloyd Webber on which she was crowned.

She absolutely stunning in a gentle Leona Lewis kind of way, and a competent singer (although not quite as impressive as Leona). Unfortunately the song (a lame ballad written by the Phantom of the Opera himself) is sooo dull and doesn’t suit her or the competition.

I’m pretty sure she’s not going to win because everyone hates us, plus we can’t afford it anyway given the bad news in this year’s Budget and the squillions we’re spending on the Olympics, so it’s just as well really.

Ones to watch
Hadise - Dum Tek Tek (Turkey)
No surprises from Turkey, but who needs them when they’ve obviously got the formula down pat:
Sexy girl + belly dancing + bangin’ Turkish beats = success!
I love love love the song. The lyrics are cheesier than a cheese and wine party at Cheddar Gorge, but it’s so catchy you won’t care. Not sure where Turkey stand politically this year, so whether or not they’ll get the votes they deserve is anyone’s guess, but this one’s a winner for me!

Sakis Rouvas - This is our night (Greece)
This europop/dance stomper has a brilliant beat. The song itself isn’t very original but the production sounds pretty up to date and it’s a real dancefloor filler. The lyrics are a bit clunky, but it’s totally hum-able. I’m still on the fence about Sakis’ fittie credentials. On first look, he’s a bit like GMTV’s Ben Shepard. This one’s a grower.

Camper than Christmas
Zoli Adok - Dance with Me (Hungary)
The video for this one features sailor suits, space men and circus performers, as well as lots and lots of glitter. Classic Eurovision, but sadly the song isn’t the best. It’s incredibly cheesy but not an ideal singalong.

Andrea Demirovic - Just Get Out of my Life (Montenegro)
This disco dolly borrows a riff from Donna Summer’s ‘Hot Stuff’, but butchers it with bad lyrics. Andrea is all playsuits, stilettos and big hair (LOVE IT!) and has a gaggle of muscle men dancing around her, but it’s not enough to distract from her terrible screeching.

The Toppers - Shine (Netherlands)
So this is what would happen if the Three Tenors had done disco! The Toppers are three middle aged men who wear sparkly silver blazers and dance and sing like your dad. Here’s the thing though - their song is absolutely fab!

It starts off a bit slow but builds to a brilliant crescendo. It’s pure fromage, but it’s sort of anthemic, you can see it being played at G.A.Y right after ‘I am what I am’. We need someone sparkly like Kylie to cover this and we need it NOW!

Malena Ernman - La Voix (Sweden)
This burly blonde opera singer looks like she could handle herself in a fight, but comes over all ladylike in fabulous floor length Shirley Bassey dress. She warbles in a very competent mezzo soprano style to an up tempo disco track, while hunky dancers in pointy hats parade around her. Her voice is certainly impressive, but the whole thing is so strange and occasionally she sounds like a man.

Fittie watch
Lovebugs - Highest Heights (Switzerland)
I can’t really tell if these guys are cute because the screen I’m watching on is too small, but I think one of them might have potential on a larger screen so they’re in my ‘fittie watch’ column.

This is an inoffensive rock/pop band along the lines of The Script, or Maroon 5. A very competent effort and they come across as quite professional (unlike many others). It’s radio friendly but not necessarily memorable. Switzerland are too neutral to have any friends so I doubt anyone will vote for them unless the one I spied in the back turns out to be fit, which he might not be.

Alexander Rybank - Fairytale (Norway)
I hope I don’t get arrested for this, but I’m pinpointing Rybank as a fittie of the future. You mark my words, in about three years’ time this one is going to be a hottie. Remember, I’m the one who spotted Robert Pattinson’s potential years ago when he was still plain old Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter, so I know what I’m talking about. (I promise I’m not a cradle robber!)

The song is awful and he is desperately out of tune, but bless him he does play the violin and wrote the song himself so I’ll cut him some slack.

Game for a laugh
Copycat (Belgium)
This is a 50s style rock n roll/jive track featuring a fat Elvis impersonator and two trannies and pink wigs. Memorable lyrics include: “He’s a copycat trying to steal my soul, but he’s too fat to rock and roll”.

Inga & Anush (Armenia)
This track channels the banghra beats of Slumdog Millionaire and features two large Armenian ladies in bright coloured saris shaking their money makers. Unfortunately this whole thing is so last season and they look like Quality Streets.

Spooky kooky
Gypsy.cz (Czech Repulic)
This is truly the worst thing I’ve ever seen in Eurovision, and I’ve witnessed some really bad stuff. It starts out like a gypsy campfire song, and then this dilweed in a skintight PVC catsuit with a cape jumps out and starts rapping in a weird language that even his bandmates don’t seem to understand.

Marko Kon & Milaan (Serbia)
This accordion led yodel odelling tune features a weird half spoken/half sung deep vocal in what I presume is Serbian. The thing that disturbs me most is the bizarre wafro singing the lead (wafro being a white man with a blonde afro). There’s no real melody, but a pretty girl comes out and does the tango with wafro half way through. Stranger things have happened in Eurovision but I really hope they don’t win. They also bring out a suitcase full of money at the end, perhaps by way of a bribe for votes?

Svetlana Loboda - Be My Valentine (Ukraine)
I sort of love this but she’s more coo coo than Lady Gaga and puts me off a bit. Is she a porn star? Is she a man? Is she an avant garde artist or a sculpture? Also, I’m sure she says ‘you’re a sexy bum bum’ half way through. Parts of the song are genius (I love the tribal drums) but it’s too long and there are too many elements that don’t tie together neatly.

On the fence
Elena - The Balkan Girls (Romania)
According to Elena, Balkan Girls like to party, but it seems they’re not too good at it. It’s got a jumpy latin-esque beat and at the start I was ready to join in the Balkan boogie but it didn’t really get going. The vocal is a little whiny and it’s not up tempo enough to dance to, although this could be one that comes alive on the night.

Sinead Mulvey and Black Daisy - Et Cetera (Ireland)
I really wanted to like this girly rock/pop quintet because they have nice shoes and they are our neighbours after all, but unfortunately the song is a bit weak. It’s an American style guitarfest and they put on funny transatlantic accents, so there’s nothing here to tell you they’re Irish. It’s not that I expect tin whistles and stuff, but it comes across as a bit of an act.

Brinck - Believe Again (Denmark)
This guy looks a bit like Tin Tin but otherwise is a bit of a nobody. I suppose he is notable because his song was co-written by Boyzone’s Ronan Keating and you can tell. Unfortunately, it’s a bland, non event of a song and it’s almost like he’s doing an impression of Ronan with his vocal.

Tags: eurovision

Euro passion

Now that we’ve all gotten to know each other a little better over these last few blogs, there’s something you need to know; a tragic secret I’ve been concealing all my life. I am a Eurovision superfan! 

I used to dream about running out on stage in a spangly disco dress, flag flying and yelling ‘hello Helsinki!’ (or wherever in Eastern Europe it happens to be), before shaking it like a polaroid picture and hoisting that trophy high. Unfortunately I am a bit tone deaf with two left feet, so nowadays I am merely an avid spectator and willing Eurovision pundit.

In the UK, many people have lost that loving feeling when it comes to Eurovision because of our poor performance over the last few years. Even when we’ve had half decent entrants (ok, none of them have been great but have you seen some of the other freaks there?), no one votes for us because they all hate us. Sigh.

‘It’s all political’ is the usual cry. ‘People only vote for their neighbours’! is another annual gem. We’ve heard it before (probably because it’s true). They tried to get around it in the last few years by introducing a semi-final round, but the four biggest financial contributors to Eurovision (UK, France, Germany and Spain) all get through automatically, which clearly creates bad feeling among those who have to sing for their supper.

This year the spangly Gods of Eurovision have decided to shake up the rules. Each country’s vote will be decided by a combination of 50% televoting results and 50% from the votes of national juries. To determine who went into the semi final, countries were separated into six pots to separate those who usually vote for each other. It all sounds extremely complex but we’ve been assured that this will be the fairest Eurovision of them all. Hmm..we’ll see!

Unfortunately, the whole sorry affair last year (poor old Andy the X Factor bin man was left on the scrap heap, despite some far worse candidates making hay with votes from their mates) had Sir Tezza de Wogan wringing his drunken hands in despair. Our humble host decided to call time on his legendary commentary, announcing his retirement once and for all. He will be sorely missed by Eurofans but I’m hopng Graham Norton will be able to add some much needed cheer to the proceedings.

This year’s contest will be taking place in three stages on 12, 14 and 16 May in Moscow, and I just can’t wait! In my next post, I’ll be bringing you a summary of the fitties, freaks and fabulous frocks lining up to entertain us this year. Stay tuned!

This week Gina has been mostly…worrying about the economy. The Chancellor basically admitted this week that the country’s gone down the crapper. Screw you guys, I’m heading back to Seychelles when la revolution comes!

Tags: eurovision, graham norton, terry wogan

Magical stress cure

Sometimes when you’re stressed, all you need is a little perspective. I know it’s unreasonable, but if I don’t manage to cross off everything on my to do list every day, it feels a bit like the end of the world.

You can tell when I’m stressed because I sweat like OJ Simpson on trial, wondering if I’ll get away with it for another day. I stagger around like a cracked out Amy Winehouse wondering what went wrong in my life (with hair just as big and crazy). My voice gets higher by about two octaves, so everything comes out sounding like Michael Jackson but with a twinge more hysteria (think the ‘ah-ah-aaaaaaah’ bit in Earth Song and you’re half way there). I turn into a completely different person when I’m stressed. I’m like Red Ross (any Friends fans reading will get this). I say things like “I’m FIIIINE”, trying to sound bright and breezy, but it comes out shrill and freaky.

It’s all my own fault, of course. I take too much on and then wonder why I’m cracking up. When that happens, I need to go to a happy place. Do you have a happy place? It might be a beach that you visualise, or perhaps a meadow with a babbling brook, that kind of thing? In my happy place, magical things can happen. Cows disappear and then reappear. There are lots of beans. That’s right, my happy place is Weebl land, the home of Magical Trevor (so 2004, I know)! If you’re feeling stressed, just look at the tricks he can do and tell me the world isn’t great:

http://www.weebls-stuff.com/toons/magical+trevor/

Enjoy!

This week Gina has been mostly…watching the lovely Kirstie and Phil on Relocation, relocation, relocation - a show so that’s good, they had to name it thrice! Why is Kirstie always up the duff? How does Phil get his head so shiny and bright? When will the househunters ever get a clue? Will Kirstie and Phil ever get it on? I hope so!

Confessions of the original shopaholic

Does anyone know where I can get a lawyer? I’m overdrawn this month so I can’t really afford to pay them, but I feel the need to sue someone. It all started with an innocent looking brown paper parcel on my doorstep…

My friend KG and I share a birthday (well almost, we’re a couple of days apart), but she is three years older than me and infinitely wiser in many ways (and most definitely dottier but let’s not go there right now). People always mistake us for each other because apparently we look similar, though neither of us can see it. About a month after my birthday, a parcel arrived on my doorstep bearing her inimitable scrawl and I knew, given that KG time runs about 30 days behind the rest of the world, that this must be my birthday present.

Inside, there were three parcels, immaculately wrapped in lavender coloured paper with little peacocks on it. A beautiful set of orante pink beads lay in one, and a matching set of earrings in the other. So far, so good, I thought. Little did I know it, but the third parcel contained something that would shock me to my core.

This little candy coloured paperback was just adorable. Given that I sometimes love chick flicks more than life itself, it follows that formulaic chick lit would press my buttons, and Sophie Kinsella’s book was sure to fit the unimaginative bill. After all, the tag line reads, ‘when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping’ - how could I not love it?! I tore into it immediately. KG knows me so well. A little too well in fact…

Rebecca Bloomwood grew up in Kingston Upon Thames, and went to Bristol University. She had visions of writing for Vogue and Marie Claire but somehow ended up as a financial journalist and still can’t work out what happened. She carries the FT in the hope that people will think she’s read it but inside, she hides copies of Glamour. She is overdrawn but can’t stop buying clothes. She’s pretty deluded actually. Oh shit…

While I’m very flattered that the beautiful Isla Fisher will be playing me in the upcoming film version of this story, I’m also horrified. If Ms Kinsella thinks I’m going to take this lying down she is mistaken. I’m going to go Ally McBeal on her ass. Happy fricking birthday to me!

This week Gina has been mostly…getting her finances in order. Why are they called spreadsheets when the money doesn’t spread very far at all? Also, I don’t think purchases made in Primark should count. I spent £43.58 there but for that money I managed to get two pairs of shoes, four tops and a matching pants and bra - now that’s strategic investment!

More Twestival News!

Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?!

The Bristol Twestival will be on 12 February at The Lanes and tickets are on sale online priced just £5 now! It’s a great opportunity for all you writers to meet likeminded creative types and Bristol media types.

The venue is a cool retro 1950s bowling alley/diner/old fashioned bar http://www.bristolbowling.com/ and there’s going to be bowling, bands, karaoke, goodie bags and all kinds of other goodies!

There’s more on facebook.
 
Here’s the page on Twitter if you want to have a nose. I think Twitter is updated more often than Facebook so all the latest info goes on here first and you get ticket info here too.

I hope to see lots of you there!

This week Gina has been mostly…seeing what biscuits make good milkshakes. Oreos - good. Custard creams - bad. More to follow - if I’m not sick first.