Tuesday, 3 December 2013

The Reading List - High Fidelity

Welcome to a new feature - of which I'm still yet to clear with the board of directors, i.e  Becki - The Reading List (again, the title is still under construction).

Since becoming a daily London commuter, I've evolved into 3 things: 1. The person who has their music up so loudly that they can't hear themselves singing along to it. 2.  If the train doors open in front of me I feel invincible (and maybe like sometimes, never, all the time every time I punch the air. No biggie). And 3. A reader. No, not of minds, dear god, could you imagine, but of books.

I've read a shit load these last few months, and as I'm procrastinating at collage and I'm on a blogging role (count it, 2 in a week) let's start a reading thing (I would say club, but Becki is scared to commitment of any kind unless there is extreme amounts of glitter and tequila involved).

The first book is High Fidelity by Nick Hornby. Primarily I picked it up purely based upon my undying love of John Cusack (I know, leave it), who plays the main character, Rob, in the film adaptation. And because I have a bad/consistent habit of watching a film then reading the book, I did just that.

I liked it. It follows Rob through his 'Top 5 Break Ups of All Time' where he looks back on his failed relationships with women. Granted I think the writing is geared towards male readers, I found the humour and characters relatable, dislikeable and loveable, in a kind of way that you've adopted a group of friends.
Its a relatively quick read (4 commutes), bonus points for keeping my attention dispute the person next to me on the train blowing their nose every 17 seconds. Not bad at all for 70p charity shop find. 

Monday, 2 December 2013

Guess Who's Back

That's right I'm back, like The Terminator and Slim Shady (except my ability to drive and rap are less than adequate). Its been a while since I've written anything, I mean that in a general sense;  lately I've exclusively been perusing the Black Friday sales and crying under my duvet about the shit load of assignments I've got to do before Friday - of which I'm avoiding like the plague/making painfully slow progress with. 

Where some people may crave a drink up at the end of the week, or the need to document their every waking moment on instagram in an influx of uploads (not that I'm bitter), I feel like I need to order my thoughts sometimes out loud. It would probably benefit the world far more if I just brought a diary or drunkenly poured out my weekly issues to a stranger in the corner of the nearest Wetherspoon's. But because psychiatrists are far too expensive, I'm a cheapskate  and its cold outside, blogging will have to suffice.

Apologies world.

J xo