A New Year..

Many people have been commenting on social networking sites how they thought 2012 was for them. "Here's hoping 2013 is better." "Ive loved this year." "I hate everything." etc. etc. I could have easily written something like this, instead I decided in my usual fashion, to make a list of those moments I've particularly loved and the memories I hold alongside them. So, here goes...

1. The Fringe

Yes, January marked a change in me. My fringe, cut by my lovely friend Laura. It is now somewhat famous amongst friends, mostly because I cut it myself and it becomes extremely wonky depending on what part of the month you meet me on. And although my hair has changed over the past year, from various bandanas to the most epic of beehives, I finally feel like I'm coming out of my shell and not caring how I look to others.

2. My Truck Adventure

February was a nice month. I'd finished my first semester and gone back home for almost a month to chill with the family and friends I'd missed so much. Then my dad randomly called and asked if I'd accompany him to Scotland in his lorry. Er, YES. It was so much fun and I learnt more about my dad in those two days than in the month I spent at home. Plus, I saw Scotland for the first time. Even if I was only there a grand total of four hours. And had my very first McDonalds breakfast. It was beautiful before you wonder. Last month he won Company Driver of the Year  and my pride grew even more. Thought Id celebrate it with some lorry cufflinks, I'm the best daughter. I'm very grateful and honoured to call him Daddy.

3. Gigs

Skrillex, Slam Dunk (AGAIN, I know) We Are The Ocean, Benjamin Francis Leftwich, Tramlines. Highlights include BFL unplugging for his encore and bringing me to tears, FFAF at SD showing the newbies how it's done, Skrillex crushing my ribs against the barrier for 3 hours and getting a perfectly timed "Take your top off!" at the end of WATO's set. I met a few famous folk, including a chat with Alfie from WATO and Matt from FFAF. I got drunk at some, probably lost a tooth at a few (Skrillex, I blame you) and most definitely had fun at all of them. Even if Gavin from The Blackout sprayed wee on me from a gun.

4. First Year Done

A First and 5 2:1s. Need I say more? Very happy my hard work paid off.

5. Duck Stranglers

I could quack on for hours about this. Sorry I had to! But I shall simply only say this. It still remains the most proudest achievement in my acting career, meeting a playwright whose plays I've been performing since I was 14 and two of the most welcoming and talented actors in the industry. I feel very privileged to have been a part of it all. My script, although withered and tatty still stands proud on my desk. Who knows, next year it could be Fringe.

6. My 20th

The bright lights of London with my wonderful Nana, seeing Les Miserables and crying five times, eating the best sandwich of my life, falling in love with Covert Gardens and seeing my 20th birthday in with a shout out from the nightclub DJ, and a family meal to celebrate how awesome I am. 

7. Liam

After almost 21 years of being on this earth, I've never met someone as kind, generous, caring and loving. And handsome, especially because he's ginger. And a cockney. I could be soppy, but I won't embarrass him. I think we shall be the faces of Twitter one day, showing love can happen in the most silliest of places. For the record, I followed him. If he ever reads this, then I just want him to know how thankful I am for all he's done, and continues to do. I feel lucky every day, and love him with all my heart. Still got my fingers crossed he's gonna look like Ray Winstone when he's older, I'd quite like that. Mhmm.

8. The Olympics 

I'll be honest, the days leading up to the Olympics, I really couldn't care. For 8 years it had been forced down everyone's throats and I'd had enough. I'm not even sporty. But on opening ceremony night, just before I set off for another shift at the nightclub, I sat down and watched Danny Boyle's show. And cried about 5 times. Kenneth Branagh, Nurses, Dancers, Fire, Bond and of course, The Athletes. Watching them walk out, dressed in gold waving that flag to Bowie, god it hit me right there. I was instantly converted and patriotic henceforth for the rest of the games. Living in the same city as Jessica Ennis was unreal, the pride people had for those athletes and witnessing so many golds being won. It was incredible and it was Britain that did it. Top notch!

9. 121 Pomona Street

Faceplant Abi, who tactically faints to avoid leaf clear up. Joe, the handsome geek who'd make a great Batman, Nat, the Hobbit enthusiast who likes a good bang on the drum kit and Charmaine, the vegan who loves to spread the word of Jesus, "whose a mint guy basically." What can I say? I knew we'd have a bumpy ride but I feel amazing coming back home to find you guys there, smiling and laughing. You are four of the greatest friends I've had and I'm grateful to live with you. Here's to another year at My My My Pomona!

10. Job(s)

From a 90's crew member at Babylon nightclub to bar staff at The Botanical student pub. I'm still pulling pints for the folks of Sheffield and still being miserable on Saturdays. (Try serving a drunk Sheffield builder whilst he calls you sugar tits.) But it's not all doom and gloom, everyone I've worked with has been so crazy and wonderful in their own right. Plus, both jobs seemed to have been within five minutes walk from my house/halls. Im not lazy, I swear. And many more McDonalds breakfasts were consumed.  90s gang, I miss you. Botan clan, I know you love me secretly.

11. Performances

Playing With Sharks short film. Inamorata devised piece. Madame Bishboshka comedy routine. Richard Schechner lecture demonstration. I've been a busy bee and worked with a whole host of very talented people. All have been amazing achievements and I'm proud to have been in them all. Although I do think the cheesey dance number in Inamorata tops it off. Nothing quite like shaking your bum at half your year whilst pretending to be a prostitute and winking at your lecturers. Hey ho here she goes!

12. Christmas (Of Course!)

And finally, we're back to present day. I've had a crazy/wonderful/hectic/incredible year. Some moments haven't been so fun, but I'm not dwelling on them. Looking back at where I was at this point in 2011 definately proves to the pessimistic side of me that miracles can happen and I can be happy. And I will be. Watch this space : 2013. I turn 21, fly off on holiday, end another year at Hallam and begin thinking long and hard about my career. Oo eer. And so, I wish you all a Happy New Year. I hope  you have a good one!

PS. My resolution, in case you didn't guess, is to make lists. 

Essex.

This week was my reading week. A precious seven days that university give you in order to catch up on missed work, lecture notes, deadlines, tutorials and of course, reading. But, like 99% of students, I took the opportunity to take a break and run down to Essex to finally see my boyfriend's humble abode. (Before you judge me, because I'm such a nerd I'd already completely my essays and work before hand.) After a whirlwind romance lasting almost four months, I have yet to venture down and see his home town, despite him staying at both my houses. And so, I booked a ridiculously cheap mega train, packed an overfilled bag (which broke just as I stepped onto the tube, damn it) and a pack up full of treats. This is what I learnt.

On Monday, I learnt that Essex can be lovely. Epping Green especially. But of course, it comes at a price. Driving past a building project, I noticed a sign that said "One bed flat. £185,000." My eyes almost dropped out of my head. With that kind of money, a person could buy my five bedroom student house PLUS my three bedroom house back in Scarborough. Beauty is money down south.

On Tuesday, I learnt that my hair looks phenomenal when it is curled at the end. And that a certain London restaurant serve some wonderful Italian food. I learnt that Wicked is just as brilliant as it is hyped up to be. I also learnt that I'm incredibly lucky to have the boyfriend I do, for he surprised me with all these things, even after I refused to venture out due to a wardrobe crisis. You girls reading this will understand my dilemma in that area. No shoes to match my dress. Scandalous. Annnnnyway, I digress. It was one of those perfect days where you feel grateful for the people you have in your life and the happiness you feel.


On Wednesday I learnt that the food beefeater serve is very nice and that others share my impatience but can voice it far better than I ever could. I also learnt that the boyfriend's family are just like him, hilarious and incredibly loveable. I learnt that Primark cashiers in Harlow have very little common sense, for flirting with me and then asking if my boyfriend was my dad. Why flirt in front of a girl if you think her dad is stood next to her, and why do so with a girl who you've just suggested must be very young. I will never understand this. I learnt that almost every person in Harlow looked at me very strangely the moment I began speaking in an accent that wasn't matching to theirs. I also learnt that Truly, the energetic doggy really does like attention, for if you give her none she will lick your face until you do so.

Thursday was my most educational day. I learnt that King Du deserves the reputation it has. I was presented with the most humongous plate of noodles, Chinese leaves, pork, carrot, chicken and endless other things. It was delicious and one of the cheapest Chinese meals I've ever bought. I also learnt that after seven years, I can still play golf fairly well, even if I only used a 7 iron due to height issues and always curved to the left. I think I may have to pick up my old clubs and give it a good go again. I also learnt that approval of friends is vital to fitting in with group. This, I hope I achieved.

And Friday, the day I write this. Today I learnt that in St Pancras Costa you can buy giant custard creams for £1.35 and they are incredible. I learnt that trying to write on a train is very difficult. I learnt that Japanese old men like to take luggage off the racks and stack them up exactly the same every twenty minutes, simply to pass the time. I learnt that I am weak when it comes to carrying anything. I learnt that I can pretend to be from London with an oyster card. I learnt that I am no longer scared of the underground as long as I get it with someone else (yes, okay, that is cheating.) I also learnt that I met some wonderful people down south and although it has many different elements compared to my beloved Yorkshire, including an accent where everyone sounds like Ray Winstone, I loved my time down here.

Right, off to put the kettle on, to drink a Yorkshire tea. Unfortunately this one has a normal size custard cream included. Darn.

Ramblings.

And now, for something completely different. An update as it were. Instead of rambling though, I feel photos will do it justice. And so, here goes.

I finished my summer working at Babylon. Yes, I did gain back my sleeping pattern. I haven't stayed up later than 2am since my last shift. But I miss everyone immensely. I do still listen out for when anyone mentions the crazy drunken night they had there and brag that I was once, a crew 90's member. And occasionally I still run in and hug everyone. To all those I met, you are wonderful. To those who hired me, thank you for the best, if most tiring summer of work ever. And to everyone I ever served, grumpy or otherwise, I hope that I made your night enjoyable. I will always be a Crew 90's member, at least until the doormen force me out of the building. 

Coincidentally, as well as the summer ending, so my second year at Sheffield Hallam began. I got back my best friend, Charmaine, who abandoned me to go back home for the summer. I realised how much I love studying and that essays are actually a good thing, especially the satisfaction of printing it out and handing it in to floor 11. I learnt my housemates are beautiful people, inside and out. And I learnt that no matter how close I live, 3 KFC's in one week is just too much for my belly to handle.

I rekindled my acting light with Duck Stranglers Part II. I rejoined the master group, this time with photo evidence, to act out the play I worked so hard on in the summer. I reminisced with Rob, Bill, Kyle, Maddie, Kyle, Neil and of course, John Godber and felt the thrill of a crowd watching every word I say. I reminded myself that I want to do this forever.

I got a new job at The Botanical pub. Back to pulling pints the old fashioned Yorkshire way. I also was given the task of decorating for Halloween, which I did with great enthusiasm. I also covered myself in fake blood for the night, which was fun. This however stained my face and I had to appear at university the next day with a dribble on red coming from my mouth and two very pink cheeks. Not so fun.

I also took Char to see Benjamin Francis Leftwich for her early 21st. She loved it and I became converted. He's very down to earth, honest and charming and his live band were incredible. I felt so alive stood there watching him, even more so when he unplugged and whispered his song to a singing crowd. A beautiful moment and a wonderful guy.

I also learnt how to make a vegan cake. Introducing the Ooey Goeey extravanganza. With not a single trace of butter, eggs or chocolate, it was the nicest thing I've ever eaten and has inspired a hand written Vegan Book of Love, which is currently in production from myself and Charmaine. Yes, its true.

I also learnt how to be funny. This includes laughing at myself a lot, moaning about life and dressing up as a ten pound note in the student union.

I was reunited several times with Liam. He convinced me to try Nando's for the first time, ever. I am now an addict, card stamped and everything. No words needed to describe this moment. I'm very very happy.

And so I conclude, my life is random. But I wouldn't change it for the world.

Past.

Yesterday was a strange day for me in many ways. I was on the 82 bus, equipped with a bag of purchases from the city centre, two Belle De Jour books from Central library in my backpack and the rosiest cheeks I've had all year. It was freezing. I remember most of the morning passing by in a bored blur. I like to wander on my own, around Sheffield, sometimes shopping but sometimes with no purpose. Yesterday was one of those days.

As I got on the bus, I was suddenly reminded of the voice of someone from my past. It was so vivid and before I realised, their entire persona appeared in my head. Every memory flooded back, their laugh, the way they used to walk, even the bad times. And it made me miss them. They were the last person who appeared from nowhere and changed my entire world. And then it all fell apart. Now, we barely speak and when we do there is still tension. We're both different people, opposite from the people we used to be. I knew deep down in myself that even though I was healed, a part of me that wanted to reminisce still wondered about them. I shrugged it off and carried on with my day.

Yet, hours later, I still fell odd. I wanted to speak to them and ask so many questions. They still appear on my news feed, things still happen I want to tell them about, they are still living the life I gave up when I moved away. But I didn't speak to them. Instead I asked someone who I knew would be honest. He is a friend of a friend and despite the fact we haven't spoken for a while, I knew he'd be brutal. I asked him one question : why the fuck do I still care when I've accepted what happened. Why, when I know I've let go of the feelings I had, does my gut feel empty when I notice his presence? And this is his response.

"The pain is what proves what was there was real. As far as I'm concerned, the key is to realise, and accept that... just cos it didn't last forever doesn't mean it wasn't real, or right, or what you needed at the time. You might not be right for each other forever, but that doesn't mean you weren't right at that time and space. "

So much was answered then. Everything I thought or presumed was confirmed and I was reminded that I am human. Sure, now it may all seem silly. People may label me as being someone who refuses to let him be happy, even if I am. Something I am far from doing. The fact of the matter is, that no matter how you move on from a relationship, friendship crumble or even family feud, you are still human. The fact you care, a year or a decade down the line, shows that you are not an emotionless shell. And if you have those days when you wonder what all went wrong, they probably do too. The key is to keep smiling, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and surround yourself with those people who love you. You can have a happy life with someone else, but you were never the first. And neither were they. And it doesn't matter. Soul mates aren't a single individual. Instead, they are someone who touches and blesses your life, changing you for the better. It might not stay idyllic forever but if it does, that's when it's the best. The person you have now should be your new start. No comparisons.

So, to the person I missed yesterday, I hope you know this :

I'm proud that at some point in my life, we were right for each other. And that thought will stay with me. If we're civil, best friends or never speak, negativity and anger won't be associated with you. Simply memories.

Stage.

This morning, I woke up and thought about where I was a year ago, before university, Sheffield and half the people I now know as close friends. It was very different indeed. But one thing stood out that I haven't forgotten. It continues to appear in conversations to this day and I can never understand why. But it has continues to be my motivation since it first appeared. As it is well known, I'm an actor. I study acting at university and it is a great passion of mine, yet throughout areas of my life, some people have claimed that "studying acting is pretentious." or  "Actors aren't trustworthy, you specialise in faking and lying." Others say "Anyone can read Shakespeare on a stage and be applauded, it's not special." And finally, my favourite "it's not a real academic degree."

Let's address these issues. Firstly, studying acting is pretentious. On first glance, you can see how this would appear.One two hour class of mine was even spent learning how to breathe correctly through our diaphragms, knowing what to drink to protect your voice and even how you should try to never blink when in front of a camera. In some lectures, we do discuss versatile topics. What we class as Performance. Stanislavski and his never ending theories on how to act.  Pretentious, maybe. But doesn't this apply to every other subject?

In Science, Darwin and his evolution theory. Maths, Pythagoras and his triangles. English Language and Shakespeare reasons for inventing such complex monologues. History and Hitler's outlandish views. Sport and how performance can be enhanced through specific movements. Somehow it all ties in. You over analyse subjects and specifics because that's how you learn. If you only know something exists without knowing why it does so, then you go through life never knowing. Yes, I do want to question why Pinter may have put the word "and" in a line of one of his plays, but that's the beauty of learning. You are developing your own ideas and broadening your mind. To me, the freedom of speech entitles you to your own opinion. It stops you becoming a robot. But to say it's not academic is not the case whatsoever. I do what every other student does, I learn. I write essays, I struggle like the rest of us. I go to lectures. I attend seminars. I don't stand in a room all day with a script and pretend to be someone else. That's an advantage of my degree. Most of my days are spent reading and studying. I pay the same as anyone else. And I refuse to be told that my degree is one of "mickey mouse" proportions.

Everyone has a talent. Mine is become a chameleon and change my persona to entertain others. I think the world of drama is very powerful. It can change lives and aid in the expression of views without starting conflicts. It's intellectual and extremely gratifying. But it can also be a struggle. "Anyone can read Shakespeare on a stage and be applauded, it's not special." Let me prove you wrong. Those films you see with heart rendering scenes are perfect examples. The cute cancer riddled child dies, the average joe loses his life struggle, the lover lets go of her necklace into the ocean. Watching it is one thing. But acting it is another. Antonin Artaud famously said that "the actor is an athlete of the heart." And he is right. You have to be in tact with your emotions. Find love for someone you may have never met. Hate a stranger but show it without any movement. Your face must be read by the audience. If it isn't, then the story will not make sense. You don't just run around chasing cars or kissing fit actors. You could spend 18 hours of your day playing one scene over and over again. Putting yourself through heartache, turning it on and off. And it's hard. I envy those stars who can do it so easily. Portray any character. Stare into a camera with such ease as to make your heart thud. It's a gift. And I'm proud to be learning how to do it right. Because if it wasn't for films, tv, stage, radio.. people would not be entertained and subjects would not be explored. Expressionism would not exist.

And as for this...  "Actors aren't trustworthy, you specialise in faking and lying." You couldn't be more wrong. As an actor, you wear a mask and become someone else. But you can't wear that mask forever or you lose who you really are. I can't lie to save my life. It's way too obvious and no matter how hard I try, those who know me best see right through it. But that doesn't mean that I can't act. Psychologically, the ability to lie will wear thin and the character you portray in real life will mould into yourself. Look at Heath Ledger, who is the tragic example of when acting goes too far. It's also about control. You may be playing Hamlet, but you must never become Hamlet. You have to open your mind and embody another person, with characteristics unlike yourself. But it is then your job to banish that person from yourself and bring back you as a person. For many people, being at your most vulnerable in public is one of their worst fears. But I want to make a living out of it. It is one of the most cut throat and yet rewarding industries around and those lucky enough to be noticed have their dreams fulfilled. It is not stable. It is heartbreaking. And it is hard. But I have been lucky in my experiences. I've performed on a stage I could only have imagined being stood on, with one of the world's best playwrights directing me. I've learnt to control my body in specific ways and emphasis language to display different emotions. I can manipulate my face, my voice, my eyes. And it's more than I could have imagined. Shakespeare wrote in 'As You Like It' that "All the world's a stage." And it is. You can be anything you wish to be. Facing your fears is what makes you a stronger person. Every watches you, even if you are the loneliest person around, someone will notice. Salute the haters who criticise you and next time, come back fighting. Because as a nation, we do have freedom to express our views, but we also have the freedom to challenge others and prove them wrong. And I think I'm doing just that.




“Art, especially the stage, is an area where it is impossible to walk without stumbling. There are in store for you many unsuccessful days and whole unsuccessful seasons: there will be great misunderstandings and deep disappointments… you must be prepared for all this, expect it and nevertheless, stubbornly, fanatically follow your own way.”  - Chekhov.

J'Adore.

After a good handful of happy and positive notes on this blog, I feel it is time for words which simply need to be off my chest before I blurt them out to an innocent naive teenage passer by in Sheffield city centre. Consider this a warning. This blog entry will be a rant, not a short one either. It involves the one word I focus my attention around for an unknown reason, along with the rest of the female population. The one word which has the ability to confuse and uplift a person at the same time: 

LOVE

This word is so powerful. It can make you feel alive, like your soul has a purpose, living together with another being in your own 'bubble.' (Please refer to this entitled blog entry written in a loved up daze for more information on this term.) I've been in love, to the point where tragedy and negativity in my life was almost dulled by the hue that was my love for another person. You can smile walking down the street, listening to artists who wrote songs of this particular feeling and empathise. Yes, I would catch a grenade for him. Any day of my naive life. And this word, it blurts out of our mouths. So simply and easily. I love you. Just like that, you've illuminated someone else's life. You've elevated them up on a podium. To you, they are a rarity. You can hold hands strolling together in a field of flowers and not care what other people will think of you and your displays of affection. 

However, despite all this fancy whoha, when it goes wrong, it has the opposite effect. You feel degraded, worthless and in pain to the point where you think you could not possibly sink lower. Suddenly, your bubble has burst and your life is over. Nothing matters, your great life plans full of hope and imagination becomes crushed and all you see is a blur. You hide it away, but it comes back up. Like vomit. The person who once was your centre of life gravity becomes someone who can bring you to tears, a shaking mess when they enter your eye line. My question to civilisation is this: WHY?! Why are people fascinated? Why is this word thrown around so we can punish ourselves with the simple ideas of love and all the thrills that come with it. Devotion. Loyalty. Romance. Boo hoo. Blah blah. It is used to the point of no meaning. Hey. Yeah I'll be home later. I love you. Bye. Like a Tamagotchi. Feed the beast so it doesn't die. And how do I know this, I hear you cry? Because I've been that beast and I have no idea why. You lose all self control when you're in love. Nothing matters. Friends walk out of your life and you do nothing to stop them because you've got your baby to make you feel whole.

I say we all sit back, grow the fuck up and treat this word with the caution it needs. When you want to say it,  wait a month THEN think about saying it. If it feels like blurting out of your mouth to make your relationship work, force it the fuck back down. When you truly care about someone, your feelings will follow but they can't be forced. And don't get me wrong. This word means a lot to me, when it is said with meaning. I would rather be with someone for a year before they say it to me than with someone who says it after a month, because it would be genuine. You can say you love someone, but if you don't and you say it anyway, the damage and hope that person will gain is simply not worth the risk. I'm 20 years old and I've done both. I've broken someone's heart and been the villain but I've also had mine broken, you could call it karma. My love experience is on an even score now. So time to hit reset and deal with things the way my mature self would. As I type this, my beads on my wrist read the letters LOVE to me. Instead of looking and thinking back, I think it shall be my reminder. To love yourself before you love someone else. And when you become blessed with the experiences of love, cherish them. Because, and many will agree, love is worth the fall. It's worth those moments crying yourself to sleep at night clutching the tshirt which smells of your beloved. Your love bubble is bigger and brighter than that pain. So use that as a motif. Never let your bubble burst.

Love is a beautiful thing.
 Love lifts us up where we belong.
All you need is love.

Princess Emi.

My life has changed very dramatically in the last year. I've moved to another city, mapped out my future, finished my first year at university, gained a job in a 90's bar, had my stage debut and even had some heartbreak moments. But all these events have allowed me to see who truly are my friends. And this girl is one of them. Emily Weetman or Princess Emi as I like to call her was someone I instantly liked the moment I met her. She's so intelligent and kind, but she will love and support you through anything and to me, that is so precious. Even though I must have only seen her a handful of times in a year (darn you distance!) she is simply a text away. I tell her everything, even the tiny things that I find myself upset over and she will always cheer me up. We share the same interests, even our unadmittable ambitions to become princesses and marry wonderful attractive ginger princes. Although that may be more due to Emily's crush on Ed Sheeran. She is, and always will be, so very dear to me. I mean, who else is willing to bake with me in a house in the middle of a cemetery?!

My tiny self, my wonderful school friend Chelsea and the beautiful Emi.

This may have involved alcohol.

Learning our place in the kitchen. We owned those cupcakes.

House.

 As of 2nd July, I said goodbye to being a fresher forever by moving out of my student halls and into my first shared student house. Halls was a great experience, I met so many different people, including a very scared small Chinese girl named Dodo who moved into my flat three days before I moved out. (She asked if I spoke Chinese, which I declined and her heart seemed broken. I do hope she's managed to grasp the language barrier well enough or she may well be very scared over here. But I digress.) Lois and Jordan taught me that despite my naivety I do in fact have a very strong accent, as well as a burning addiction to chips and gravy, a rarity in the South. I think I may cry if I ever live there. James, my wonderful Yorkshire companion was my little ray of sunshine when I felt home sick. We were all very contrasting but it's so crazy to think that for nine months, we shared a flat and lived in relative peace and serenity. Except of course when me and Lois returned back from Christmas to discover pieces of orange on the ceiling from the food fight the boys had. I was not impressed with that one. But all together, they were the greatest first flat mates to have. And I shall miss each one of them dearly, they are always welcome to my humble abode.

The new house is wonderful. We signed way back when in December and I forgot what it even looked like, but on moving day both landlords were there to greet us and explained it all, which was great. I had my pick of the rooms and being the girl I am, I chose the room I thought would be cutest. And here it is, at the end of moving day, decorated and full of student essentials.

My bed, which is also the comfiest thing in the world and not as small as I expected looks great too. My landlord is that nice, she even trimmed down the curtains and stitched them so they wouldn't get in the way of my sleepy self. How sweet. Special thanks to Mummy, who found the perfect bunting and bed cover. 

The four others I'm living with are all on my course and are all just as crazy as I am. I'm so close with them and I know it's going to be a lot of fun this coming year living with them and getting up to many crazy antics. So far it's just me and the guys but I'm managing to cling on to my femininity for the time being. As soon as the other two girls arrive though, we shall make sure we leave our mark on this place. Including Charmaine's plan for a vegetable patch in the back garden. Excellent idea if you ask me.


On my third day here, I also had a visitor. Mr Liam. Here he is. Looking dapper. And yes, he is just as charming as he appears. I don't think I've ever giggled as much.

All in all, my experience at 121 Pomona Street has been grand. Here's to the next year, or two of many fun times, drunken antics and endless stories to tell our friends. 

The Duck Stranglers of Janada.

As all of you know, I'm studying Performance for Stage and Screen at Sheffield Hallam University. (DUH?!) Well, many of those who teach me have connections to the real acting world, from the director of Ghost The Musical to Jarvis Cocker. Around two months ago, I got the opportunity to audition for the biggest role of my life. And I got it. This is my diary from the amazing week I spent working with John Godber, Rob Hudson, William Ilkley, Neil Sissons, Luke Scott and Kyle Williams for the world premier of John's new play 'The Duck Stranglers of Janada' on The Crucible Main Stage for the International Student Drama Festival. (I know that's long winded, just me blowing my own trumpet.)

On Monday, we met. I have never been more nervous walking into a room knowing there were two professional actors, an award winning playwright, a highly experienced director and a musician who holds two gold records for his music. But the moment we sat down around a table and read the script, I felt so confident. Also, opening it and seeing my name printed really made me smile.

The rest of the week was almost a blur of intense rehearsals. It was incredible to see the two guys who have been doing acting for years really show off what they know. They were so helpful too, although they may have got slightly sick of my constant asking of questions. William Ilkley later confessed he went to Rose Bruford with Gary Oldman, my idol. I almost fainted. Everything from their stage presence to their ability to speak a fluently strong Eastern European accent upon first read through inspired me. I feel privileged to have shared a stage with them. John Godber is one of the most intellectual people I've ever spoken to and his passion for what he believes in is obvious. He'd speak and I'd instantly feel connected. The greatest thing is when I was 16 and studying my GCSE's, it was John's play 'Shakers' which got me an A and into college, which lead to my degree and to my position right now. Crazy when you think about it. It was so amazing to see myself progress in just four days from a basic knowledge of the script to a thorough understanding. I sure hope I did John proud.

The performance took place on Friday and being the typical student I am, the moment I was back stage I snapped away on my phone everything I could to do with The Crucible. Here is me and fellow student Kyle Williams stood on that very stage. I felt the greatest sense of pride wearing THAT hoodie, standing on THAT stage and representing Hallam.

Stage Right. My view for the vast majority of the performance. You couldn't see faces past the first three rows, which helped with my ever growing nerves.

With half an hour to go, Maddie the stage manager was getting more anxious. I, on the other hand, was just happy to be there. Look at my smiley face.

Walking down the Vom, I found this. I think it's so arty, I love it. The scribbles had so many notes on, from rude drawings to Hamlet quotes and the usual dated signatures. If I had a pen I would have happily written on "Leah was here, 29/06/12"

And here is the only performance still I could manage to grab, courtesy of Assistant Director Elliott Brown. In the background you can see William Ilkley, practising his Russian accent ready for show time.

The one memory I love was looking up from the stage, stood at the lectern and feeling myself shake from nerves and seeing my Nana, who had spontaneously turned up to support me, smiling. I instantly dropped my nerves and just felt into the performance. It was wonderful. Walking off the stage into the wings, I almost cried and instantly hugged everyone for doing such a grand job. I will never forget that moment for a long time. After, I sat on the stage and answered questions on the whole experience. One of my favourite lecturers asked "What was it like to work with such a batallion of professionals?" I simply said "Unreal." I think that summed up this experience perfectly. 

Slam Dunk 2012.

Last month, I went to Leeds University for the fourth time in a row to Slam Dunk Festival. I love the atmosphere, the various stages and of course, the alcohol. Usually it's just me and one other person but I went with my wonderful future housemates this year and thought I'd share my snapshots of the day. 

Here is me and Charmander, in line to meet Funeral For A Friend doing our metal faces.

And here is me with Matt Davies, FFAF singer. He was so lovely and Welsh, obviously.

After that, we had a pint (which was really quite expensive!) and went to catch the end of Say Anything. I used to love them when I was in school and managed to catch the two songs I liked best, which everyone else also seemed to love. Great band and great set.

It was then time for Funeral For A Friend, who despite having lost their drummer a week before, were still incredible. They knew what songs would work the crowd and 'Roses For The Dead' definately sent everyone jumping. I managed to worm my way to the barrier, ready for...

The Blackout. Three letters. OMG. They came barging out and did a big FUCK YOU to the entire crowd, evidently completely drunk from their day of festival fun. Sean Smith ended up humping a monitor sexually as well as admitting he'd rather be wanking at the back of the room than on stage. Gavin Butler climbed on top of an 8 foot stacked speaker system and rocked it, making every security guard run to catch him in fear. Their entire set was flawless and they were brilliant. Top marks from Merthyr.

 After that, we went to get some well needed liquids and worked our way back into the room to see Taking Back Sunday, the head liners and the one band I was so excited about. However, I don't know whether they were having an off day or whether that's their game, but they were absolutely dire. Adam Lazzarra didn't sing a single word in time or key, with the guitarists desperately trying to sing to keep the crowd going. Although I knew every word I feel like I couldn't even enjoy myself and half way through was simply too aware I was stood in a sweaty room with a band who completely disappointed me. I still left feeling amazing, with my friends and glad I went. But I haven't forgetten TBS and how much they let me down. If I ever have a chance to be proven wrong, I hope they do.

London.

It may surprise you to know that I recently turned 20. Yes I know. I've already cried at my old age. But as a treat, I decided to jaunt to The West End with my wonderful Nana for the weekend. These are my snaps from such occasion. It was the most fun I've had in a long time.

We travelled down to London early Saturday morning and after getting dropped off and changed at the hotel, headed out for some grub. We wandered around Shaftesbury Avenue for a while, till we found Soho and the infamous Windmill. Opposite was a quiant little pub, which served this cracker. It was incredible and I scoffed the whole thing. Yummm.

We then went to see this.It was magnificent. Each actor was so flawless and the set was ingeniously simplistic. Jean Valjean is also  my new ideal man, with his manly ruggedness and heroic nature. He even has a beard. Yes indeed.

The next morning, I acted like the perfect little tourist and went on a walk all around central London. Here's me at Hyde Park. Note: visible is the hole in my tights that my Nana commented on all weekend. Student wage, student clothes. Sorry Nana.

Number 6 constantly surrounds my life and this is another reason. It was a random photo I didn't mean to take. But voila, there it is, on my bus. Freaky.

The flags on every street from the Jubilee made the entire city look so beautiful. For once, I felt patriotic.

Here's me instructing my Nana how to zoom in on my camera sat at Trafalgar Square. Hence the facial expression. Still find this photo really rather quirky. Plus my feet look tiny.

 And here she is, the shining lady that is my Nana. I caught her by surprise, but don't we look good.

 She took me to Covent Garden and said I'd like it. I fell head over heels in love. What an amazing place to be. The atmosphere, performers, even the little market stalls hosting tiny hand made charms and scarves were so unique. We spent most of the morning there, and I'd give anything to go back.

Can't have a tinydotteapot blog without some teapots. This was the shop window of Tea Palace London in Covent Gardens. Decided upon leaving that I now know what my back up dream job should be.

Coming back, I felt really quite sad. I had such fun but two days just wasn't long enough. I loved being in Theatre Land and even had a little day dream that I'd be in those buildings one day, doing what I love the most. I'm 21 in exactly 357 days and watch out London, because I'm coming for you. And I'm bringing friends.

Kidnapped.

Second student film, shot in 15 minutes, which was an experience to say the least. One of my best friends Nathaniel McCartney stars in it too, and the story is based around a script taken from another film, but adapted. The speech states about unrequited love from the man to the girl, who doesn't feel the same. Petrol is poured over her and a match is lighted. It's all over intense.

Horse.

This was the very first student film I did. It was filmed entirely in one day, at various locations around Sheffield. One being a very creepy garage which the owner used to take suicide photography. (Yes, I know!) It was so much fun to do, surprisingly, and a definate eye opener with screen work. The basic plot line is my character, a jogger, gets kidnapped by a pig masked killer and taken to his hide away, in which he takes another character's eye out. She escapes but is then strangled by her fellow escapee. Lots of fun!