Friday 5 June 2009

Fame! I'm gonna live forever!

Okay, so maybe not world-wide fame, and I'm not exactly the next Susan Boyle. But check out the latest batch of questions on the "Ask Ana" section on the official website of 'Everybody's favourite Serbian female tennis player', and the woman I'm completely obsessed with.


In case you're wondering about the lameness of the question - it had to be something pretty boring to begin with - I doubt she would have answered any marriage proposals, or whether she's ever slept with Novak Djokovic (she definitely has). Being from the UK, and having been fed up with a thousand different people asking her what Roger Federer is like, I plumped for a question about Andy Murray. Her answer isn't particularly exciting - not surprising really considering myself and Merciless Public agreed that she is actually the most boring woman in the world.

Anyway, so, yes. There we go. And if there's anyone reading this who didn't know my real name (my name is not really Ewarwoowar, nor sadly The Sugarplum Fairy) then, yes, there you go. Although amusingly I sent the question in under Merciless Public's e-mail address, because I'm a crazy fucker like that. Merciless is outraged that I included a kiss, but I was merely being polite, and wonderfully European.

If you want to ask Ana a question yourself, give it a go! We can compare answers, and conclusively prove that she is the most boring woman in the world. Anyway, that's it for me for this weekend - I'm off to watch some baseball. See you back here on Monday! Maybe.

His middle name was Morrissey

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/8084931.stm

Hmm, yes, well. Everyone who knows me knows I don't read much fiction - I find real life much more fascinating and entertaining than anything dreamt up by an author*.

But when I read 'Catcher' it struck a chord with me, and I would consider it one of my favourite novels of all time. In the article, Rohrer states that "Plot is in short supply. The Catcher in the Rye is a novel where not very much happens."

Tru dat. But for me the novel is not about the plot, it is about Holden Caulfield. Nothing more, nothing less. And Caulfield speaks to me, alarmingly so - so many times I found myself reading a passage and thinking "Christ, yes, this is so true!". Don't worry Holden, I hate phoneys just as much as you do.

But I also think that Holden is a young man who's been burnt by love. There seemed throughout that there was a underlying longing that existed within him, despite the bravado and the rebel nature. I also find it fascinating just how much he loves his sister, and the responsibility that he feels regarding her. Whenever I think of the book, I always think about the bit where he is outraged about the crude language that someone had sprayed onto a wall by his sister's school.
I don't think Holden Caulfield is a bad person - sure, he's self-centred, and he moans and he whines. But I think every male can recognise something in Holden Caulfield that they can recognise in themselves - and that's what has made the novel successful. Fuck the fact that nothing really happens, the book is a character study - and a damn good one at that.

Back me up here, Merciless.

* I still quite haven't worked out why I chose English Lit!

Thursday 4 June 2009

Election Problems

I believe that we all should vote, come election day. No matter how pissed off you are at politicians, or politics in general, I honestly don't think apathy helps. I don't support any political party, nor do I particularly like MPs (well, maybe Caroline Flint), but the thought of having a vote, and an equal say, means I couldn't bear to just let it pass and ignore it.  

So, at about 11:20, I found my voting card, and took a stroll in the sunshine down to my polling booth, which for me is an annex right next to a garage and a pub. It is also about 30 seconds away. Outside the annex, there was a board up, listing the parties standing - I can honestly say that looking at that board was the first time I knew who was standing in my area. Although, to be honest, I still don't know what "area" I fall under for this election. Never mind!

I went in, (after saying hello to the pub landlord, who was in his dressing gown, amusingly) and was greeted warmly by the two women running the operation. At the time I thought they were being friendly, but thinking about it, I was probably the first person they'd seen in hours.

So I got my form, I went to the booth, and I voted for The Green Party.

And there's a sentence I thought I'd never write. I made the decision a few days ago to vote for The Greens, as they were "the least worst" in my opinion. I didn't want to vote for any of the 3 main parties - I don't like the Conservatives or the Lib Dems anyway, and New Labour are just pissing me off. I'm not going to vote for the BNP, nor UKIP. I'm not interested in parties I've never heard of, like the Christian Party, or Libertas. And there was no party called Joss Ackland's Spunky Backpack, so I plumped for The Greens. Meh.
I put my vote in the ballot box (which appeared suspiciously empty) and exited. There was no-one else around, and no-one else had come in to vote whilst I was there. 

To be honest, I found the whole thing a bit depressing. I had voted for a party which I don't really care for, and most people can't be bothered to vote - my parents aren't going to either. But what is the solution - how do you increase turn-out without forcing people to vote? I'll leave that one to the clever people out there, and I'll just apologise for using the word "I" 33 times in this blog post. T'was not intentional!

Wednesday 3 June 2009

New blogs ftw!

Say hello to a blog from my friend Rich:


I'll always be grateful to Rich - as well as being a great friend, he also single-handedly helped me through my adolescence days (when I was a complete dick) without punching me once. We should meet up again sometime soon man - especially as the last time we met was in such awful circumstances. By the way, I saw someone from Aber Uni on the TV today, talking about how urban birds chirp differently than countryside birds, or something. Glad to see you lot fill your time wisely!

Anyway, Rich seems like he's going to be focusing on politics a lot on his blog - an area I vowed to stay away from because I hate all of them. But I would imagine that would appeal to you, Voley, and you, Demented Demon, and you, Alex C....check it out!

Looking for Eric

It was a sunny day in May, 1997, when I walked out of my primary school in my shorts, swinging my lunchbox by my side. I was making my way to the big tree in the playground, where I used to patiently wait for my mum to come and take me home.

But my mum was already there, which was strange. And she had an anxious look on her face. I wandered over. "I've got some bad news" she said.

Oh god, someone had died, I thought. Or very ill. My mind suddenly went into overdrive, thinking of different family members. I knew it couldn't have been one of my friends, because I'd just been with them. Who was it?

"Cantona's quit."

What?

"What?"

"He's quit, retired, finished. He's not going to play for United anymore."

For a 10 year old, this was almost too much to take. Cantona was my god, my king of kings, my footballing idol. United couldn't go on without him, surely? A few months later, we signed a player from Tottenham, Edward Sheringham, and United did go on. But I spent the rest of that day in a daze, not quite comprehending what had happened.

Looking for Eric seems to be the perfect film for all United fans who remember the great man in his prime, and still mourn that day. I can't say I know a great deal about Ken Loach, but I do know he did 'Kes', one of my favourite (and most quoted) films. If this film is 1/3 as good as that, I'll love it. Judging by the fact that Justin Moorhouse and Max Beesley are in it (both United fans) it could just be one great big United love-in, so it may not be warmly acknowledged by everyone. Oh well, I don't care. I can't wait to see it.

In my Champions League Final preview, I put on record that The Ginger Prince's goal against Barcelona was my 2nd favourite of all time. Now seems like the perfect time to put on record my all-time favourite. Hell, any excuse to watch this again:



As for King Eric, I would love to see him as United manager. Tactically, he wouldn't have a clue. We would lose every game 6-3, and get relegated straight away. But, my God, it would be fun. Long live The King.

Sunday 31 May 2009

Roland Garros Update #4

See that picture up at the top there? That photo won't be taken this year, instead it will probably be Marat Safin's sister, Dinara Safina, clutching the trophy.

'Everybody's favourite Serbian female tennis player' has crashed out of the French Open, losing 6-2, 6-3 to 9th seed Victoria Azarenka. I didn't get to watch the match, as BBC Red Button decided to show Rafael Nadal's match instead (why bother? Not like he'll lose at Roland Garros. He definitely won't lose to Robin Soderling, ffs).

For more details about the match, some propaganda, and a rather interesting photo, go here: http://www.anaivanovic.com/?path=start/news&detailpage=1552

I'm disappointed, as that will mean no 'Everybody's favourite Serbian female tennis player' on TV now until Wimbledon. However, sensing my despondancy, Merciless Public has come to the rescue. Thanks for linking me to this, boyo: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFacWGBJ_cs

Not much more to say. I think Federer and Safina will be the favourites for the trophies now, but my interest in the tournament has ended. Roll on Wimbledon.

EDIT - I'm a bit worried about Ana, actually. She mentions in her post-match press conference about her feeling dizzy, and maybe that's all it is, a bit of sickness. But in this video look at her between 2:26-2:32 - I've never seen her like that before. And in that press conference, she looked really, really dreadful : http://anaivanovictennis-courtside.blogspot.com/2009/06/photo-gallery-anas-post-match-presser.html

That's either a) poor health, b) hasn't slept for a while, c) has the weight of the world on her shoulders or d) all of the above.

Whatever it is, it's a billion miles away from this. Get well soon Ana!