G. Licious vs Hollywood

If you've had the misfortune to be a regular reader of my blog then you've probably gathered by now that I quite like to watch the odd film. According to the helpful but rather superfluous Labels function provided by Blogger I can tell you that it is currently the 3rd most blogged about topic on Ponderings and Ruminations - tied with TV but just pipping gripes.

I may love films but I can promise you I'm no actress. Can't be doing with all those people looking at me. I might actually be a very skilled thespian, but the world will just have to resign itself to the fact that it will never know.

But it occurred to me the other day that even if I was an outgoing type with all the talent of Judi Dench, the beauty of Jennifer Aniston and the wit of Sandra Bullock I'd probably never be able to be successful. Why? Because I'm a Christian. Now I'm not saying that I wouldn't make it because Christians are discriminated against in the industry (they may or may not be, I haven't a clue) but simply because there would be no roles for me. As a Christian I wouldn't want to swear in a movie and I would be uncomfortable about being in a film that featured sex outside of marriage - let alone actually be in a sex scene! With just those two stipulations I have pretty much blown my chances of a film career. How many films are there these days that I could get involved in? If I became a Christian after having become a successful actor then no doubt it would be possible to pick and choose roles in family friendly projects. But as a newbie trying to get a foot in the door I expect I'd be laughed out of Hollywood.

I don't know exactly what point I'm trying to make (you should all know by now that I'm rather prone to rambling musings!) but it's certainly something worth mulling over don't you think?

P.S. I am aware that I could easily be labelled a hypocrite. After all I watch a lot of films that I've stated that I wouldn't want to be in. But I do think that there's a difference between viewing something and endorsing or promoting it by being in it.

F1 bungle

Ooh interesting developments are afoot. I was all set to write a blog decrying the change of scoring system for the new season of Formula One, but apparently I'm not the only one unimpressed by the FIA's decision to crown the driver with the most wins as World Champion rather than the most consistent performer currently rewarded by the scoring system.

The Formula One Teams Association (FOTA) have just announced that they are to officially question the validity of the new system. Opposition has been voiced not only against the system itself but also in protestation at the lateness of the change of plan; the first race of the season takes place in just over a week's time.

It may be a long shot but let's hope that common sense prevails. It seems absurd to me that a driver that won 5 races but failed to finish the other 12 could be World Champion over a competitor with 4 race wins and 13 2nd places to his name. I do despair at not only the ignorance of the people in charge of this sport but also their seeming lack of passion for their product. Mentioning no names of course... but it sounds a bit like Fernie Pecclestone.

That Monday feeling... on a Friday...

You've got to hand it to some people; why stick to mediocrity when you have the chance to redefine the term 'dire'?

Today's guilty party? The Haunting in Connecticut.

I mean really, what kind of name is that for a film? It's the equivalent of a Brit making 'The Haunting in Worcestershire'.

Come to think of it, surely Worcestershire has far more fright potential than Connecticut?*

And whilst I'm having a rant, who do Heinz think they're kidding when they say that their 400g Tomato Soup cans contain 2 servings? Servings for small woodland creatures perhaps! Certainly not for grown adults. Wake up Heinz and smell the Trade Descriptions act!

Soup. For one.

* I should probably point out that I haven't actually seen said scary Connecticut film. Nor do I intend to. But that title is definitely enough to justify my 'dire' label.

Dearest Albert

I have a new love in my life. Here he is:

Oh wait. That's not exactly right. I was thinking more along these lines:

Ah... much better.

You may have guessed that I've just got back from watching The Young Victoria at the cinema. It's a fairly standard costume drama - the type that I love - but rather heavy on the romance - which I don't usually love. But Prince Albert here won me over. Apparently he's actually some actor sort; goes by the name Rupert Friend, but seeing as there's no way on earth that Mr Friend could ever match up to the lovely Prince Consort, he'll always be Albert to me. Sigh.

#Your looks are laughable...#

People of the world - I hate to break it to you, but you're being duped. I ask you, is there anything less romantic than Valentine's Day? A day of mass manipulation by the confectionery, greeting cards, flowers, champagne and retail industries.

These are not the rantings and ravings of a bitter, single woman. Granted, they are the ramblings of a single woman but that is clearly beside the point. I just don't get the whole Valentine's Day hoopla. Surely romance is about spontaneity? Showing someone you love them when they least expect it. Actually it's probably more romantic to find a way to live that shows someone you love them each and everyday.

Do excuse me whilst I take a minute to go and throw up somewhere. (Oh dear, that might just be some bitterness being vomited into the bathroom sink).

Ahem.

My point is that Valentine's Day doesn't come close to meeting either of those criteria. It's not spontaneous and it's not long lasting. It's probably too late for a boycott this time around. But next year, when all those shops try to lure you in with their lovey-dovey window displays and bargain chocolate and wine combo offers, do as the Grange Hill kids once did - "Just say no!"

Snow fever

This time last week I was jumping up and down with joy at the sight of the lovely white flakes falling from the sky. I would have been aghast at the very idea that there could be such a thing as too much snow. Yet here I am a week later, fed up of this incessant wintry weather. It was great fun of course. For a while. The snow cat was built. A snow giraffe followed. Next up was a snow fort. And finally an igloo. But I've rather run out of steam and inspiration since then. I'm fed up of having to wear wellies every time I leave the house. I'm annoyed at being unable to drive wherever and whenever I want to. I just got back from a quick trip into town and my trainers appear to have acquired a permanent squelch. My feet are suitably wet and it's horrible and slushy out there. In some ways that's a good thing. Everything is thawing. But the weathermen inform me that a 'winter storm' is on the way. Oh goodie. Just what we need.

Incidentally I also saw a mad woman in town. She was wearing the tiniest denim shorts possible. Yes, she had tights on underneath but they were hardly woolly ones. What's wrong with these people?!

Wet feet make me grumpy. Can you tell?

Three reasons to be cheerful

1.) Last week the fastest postman in the country* was witnessed delivering post to my house.

*This title is completely unofficial and the Guinness Book of Records have not yet certified said mail deliverer. But Ernie, who drove the fastest milk cart in the West was never certified either and it didn't do his reputation any harm.

2.) Orange hair can look seriously cool. I would never have thought it but the girl opposite me on the train at the weekend had dyed orange hair and it was undeniably awesome. I fear the effect would not be the same should I attempt such a bold fashion statement.

3.) SNOW! This is Eric.

He's a cat. Just in case you couldn't tell.