10 Reasons Why I Love My New Phone

1. The many free photography apps.
I can take photos that look like they were taken with a pinhole camera and then adorn them with cute little icons. My favourite discovery so far is Retro Camera, with 6 'cameras' to choose from.
2. HeyTell.
Need I say more? This nifty little app allows me to send voice messages to friends all over the globe at the push of a button, not to mention it's free to download and use.
3. Social networking.
Because of this baby I'm never more than a finger tip from a quick chat. My internet presence must have increased hundred-fold since I booted this baby up on Monday night.
4. I'm never bored.
I am the proud owner of an android phone, and as such I have the power to download ad many apps as I want, whenever and wherever I want (provided I have signal).
5. I have a camera!
I know I mentioned photography, but I forgot to mention the benefits of actually having a camera for the first time in over a year. No more missing out on great photo opportunities, if I see stomething fun or interesting, I can snap a pic there and then (which would have been handy when I spotted that phallic cloud). I can also document days when I feel particularly pretty.
6. I don't have to put up with my old phone.
Ah, the old Sony Ericsson J100i, with its loud, angry vibrate setting that was reminiscent of a viscous wasp. It had its down sides, but at the end of the day it was a phone with personality. True to form, like a thwarted lover, it stopped acting up and proclaimed "I'll change, I swear!" the minute my new phone arrived.
7. MOAR BLOGGING!
There's a handy Blogger app for Android that means I can now blog on the go, as soon as the mood hits..
8. Barrr
My favourite free game so far. Run a pirate bar and ensure you get all your pirate customers to their correct station. Unfortunately there are only 10 levels, so not much play time, though one of those levels is called 'Guybrush's Locker', a shout out to the best sea-faring game that ever there was, yarrgh!
9. Flashlight.
How many people can sympathize here? You're on your way to bed, hit the light and BAM! You're navigating the stairs in the dark, wishing you had a bloody torch. It's a situation I find myself in every night, and one I have to repeat if I need to go to the loo in the middle of the night because there's something wrong with the upstairs lights. Now I can significantly lower the risk of death by using my flashlight app. :)
10. It's upped my cool factor.
Yeah, not really, but it's true that I no longer feel that all too familiar wash of shame come over me when removing my phone from my pocket in public.
And let's not forget that you, the readers, will also benefit from my decision to upgrade due to a greater post frequency and more aesthetically pleasing blog. Now now, no need to thank me.

Douteux

To move or not to move, that is the question.

Originally the answer was pretty easy, Chester was the obvious choice. Life would be easier living with my dad, I'd have a whole lot less to worry about. Plus there was nothing really for me in Belfast, I was homeless, unhappy and had an almost non-existant social life.

But now things are far more complicated. I'm happier here now. Friends have sprung out of the woodwork, some who I thought hated me and others who have fantastic qualities that I was previously blind to. There's still the not-so-little issue of homelessness, but I'm sure I can work something out.

I think right now I'm just waiting for the decider, for something to just come along and choose for me. It's not like there's a wrong decision, by not going to Chester I won't be missing out on some major job opportunity, I can always just go some other time if things don't work out in Belfast. Nothing's set in stone.

Alas, even if I knew I wanted to move to Chester I would have to wait the three or four weeks that it's going to take for my photographic ID to get here. If anything's going to happen to make up my mind, it has quite some time in which to do so, no rush. Chillax.

A whole lot can happen in three weeks.

Let's Have Some Fun

This beat is sick
I wanna take a ride on your PENIS.

When the majority of people cancelled for my birthday celebrations, I anticipated a rather fruitless night. Opinion did not change when Abbie, Jonathan and I, upon arriving at Lavery's, were promptly asked for ID. Which none bar Jonathan had. It just didn't bode well.
But all was not as it seemed, after getting knocked back from Lavery's we thought "HEY let's walk down this here road and go to Ma Nelson's." Couldn't have made a better decision. Abbie bumped into her friend Ciaran, my amigo Simon came along and then, summoned by Ciaran, up popped my friend Sean. We were an odd little sixpiece, each widely different from the next, but we got along like a row of terraced houses on fire. Abbie and Sean did some Karaoke, Jonathan dedicated some Rick Astley to me and I danced around like an idiot, becoming rather drunk as the night wore on.


All too soon it was time for us to part ways, with Simon, Abbie, Jonathan and I getting a lift from Simon's lovely mum. Back at Abbie's it was on to the Onion Rings and Just Dance, singing and general craziness that was well documented in videos and pictures on Abbie's camera.

Today arrived with a mild hangover in tow, and a sign on time of 1:15pm, which I was a bit late for. Jonathan accompanied me, in all his Middle Class glory, to the dole office. Yeo. After signing on we were walking along Howard Street and I said to him, I says "We should stop and get coffee at the next non-chain place we find, and directly after the words had left my mouth I was handed a leaflet for The Bakery, Belfast's newest Eatery. Go there, immediately. It's shabby chic heaven, and the coffee's delightful. The baked goods looked pretty good too, but I was unable to partake in the eating of them as I am cursed with Coeliac disease, and Jonathan's just turned into a bloody vegan so I couldn't ask for his opinion.
Then Jonathan bought me a new pair of black skinny jeans, because my current pair developed a rather gaping hole.

Coincidentally, it was July 20th last year that I purchased them. A new tradition, perhaps? Henceforth, July 20th shall be The Day of the New Black Skinny Jeans.


Oh, I forgot to mention, my bum is a wonderland.

It Was 20 Years Ago Today

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play.

Well, actually, no. But it has been twenty years since the day I was born. That's right folks, on this day in 1991 my darling mother was given an emergency ceasarian and baby me was ripped from the womb in a most undignified manner. I was bright green, covered in excrement from defecating myself due to the distress caused by my placenta disintegrating. I had been due on June 22nd, but had obviously found my mother's uterus far too comfy and decided that I would stick around for another month, my foetal adaptation of "Five more minutes," a pattern I have continued throughout my life.

On hearing she had given birth to a healthy baby girl, my mother is said to have spoken the fateful words, "That's nice love, go ask the nurse if I can have a fag." My dad and his mum wept tears of joy at the new, ginger baby girl that had been brought into the world. Unfortunately for them, what they took for gingerness was actually blood caked into my hair.

Legend has it, I was also born with teeth...

Who Do You Think You Are?

Ah, a delightful summer's day; children are playing, birds are singing and after a week of sunshine, the heavens have opened. And it is on such a day as this that the ice cream man decided to pay a visit (I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream - even when it's pissing down outside). Cue childlike excitement from myself and Abbie followed by the undertaking of a mad dash up the street by her brother Ryan and I (me in my pjs, natch, because "What's the point in getting dressed when I'll not be going anywhere?") to find ourselves some frozen treats.

After ordering, with me getting all over excited and asking for "EVERYTHING. LOTSANDLOTS OF EVERYTHING" on my screwball, Ryan made some hilarious quip about being unable to take me anywhere and wouldn't you look at me in my pjs, and the ice cream man remarked that he felt as though he were in Belfast. Well, my reply was "Well, I am from Belfast ahahah"...
Incoming message for Robyn, you're from Chester, you're a Cestrian, you need to stop confusing yourself and those around you by identifying yourself as a Norn Ironer, so you do.

Seriously though, how weird is it going to be when I *eventually* get to Chester? I won't know who I am anymore. I've spent my entire teenage life in Belfast. The years where I form my identity. For seven years I've been the English girl who talks funny, but essentially I've become a Belfastian who talks funny. How will I be seen by others when I'm in Chester? "That Irish girl who talks funny"?

I'll have to find some Northern Irish friends when I get over there, I'll surely be lost without the camaraderie of taking the mick out of Jim on Corrie and the infestation of "Belfast" folk in Hollyoaks.

I'm sure it will take a couple of confusing months to adjust and not feel totally confused about who I am and where I'm from, but it's not the end of the world. Sure, if it's not my cup of tea I can always move back, so I can.

I ramble too much, so I do.

It's time to end this post, so it is.

Limitless Love

My first time with my new love is not easily forgotten, for I was in fact waiting to see my first love when they revealed themselves to me, and thus was blind to their charms, unaware of all that they had to offer.

I am, of course, talking about my first encounter with Tinpan Orange. They were playing through their set, supporting The Cat Empire. I was too excited at the prospect of seeing the latter, too amazed by the fact that two of the band members were standing right behind me, to notice how pleasant the band performing upon the stage in front of me were.

It actually wasn't until two months later, as I sat bored in my dad's house, that I remembered them and registered the fact that I had enjoyed them somewhat, leading to me looking them up on YouTube. Well, my God, it was like being reunited with a particularly intimate old friend. Everything singer Emily Lubitz spoke of directly mirrored something that I was feeling at that time, but it was formed in a beautifully poetic, melodic way, the likes of which I could never achieve. The music itself felt like a gentle caress, warm and comforting, though at the same time haunting.

To this day, Tinpan Orange still have that same effect on me, warming whilst chilling, curling through my ears and cocooning  my brain with its allure. It is music that is fitting to both sunshine and snow, love and sorrow. This is my soul band, if such a thing can exist, and I definitely recommend if you're a fan of all things pretty (and possibly tea shops, antiques, nude colours and floral prints). It's the kind of music I imagine little fairy people would listen to.

Tinpan Orange - Lovely

I succeeded in embedding, I feel a renewed vigour for life.

Recreating Robyn

This here is going to be a post to clarify exactly what my blog's about, and why it has the title Recreating Robyn.

It's because I'm trying to step away from the person I am and become the person I want to be. This means many things, but don't go thinking that I'm changing the essence of Robyn because that's just not true. I like myself, I like what I like, and I'm not going to change that, merely readjust what it means to be me.

Who I want to be is someone I can be happier with. My whole life I've been unsatisfied with who I am, constantly wanting to be someone different. I'd often attempt to mimic the styles of others without success, envious of their beauty and style. I've now realised the problem, by trying to be somebody else I'm not being true to myself. I need to keep being Robyn, just do away with what I don't like and keep what I do, enhancing it and bettering myself in the process. I'm in a position to do this now that I'm sure of what I like and what I dislike.

❤ Who I am ❤
-Collector of unnecessary things (notebooks, recipes, neuroses)
-Incapable of writing
- Unemployed
- Unhealthy
- Lacking hobbies.
- Frustrated/Indecisive
- Dreaming of all the things I could do (if I had a little money...) but doing nothing towards achieving my goals.

❤Who I want to be ❤
- Housewife
-Writer
- Gardener
- Knowlegeable
- Cook
- Craftswoman
- Confident/Composed/Happy/Well dressed
- Likeable.

I don't want to change who I am, merely rearrange things a little. Yes, I want to look different, but not to become someone I'm not. I'm still wearing an assortment of clothes from past phases, is it any wonder I'm unhappy with my appearance? But in this recreation, appearance is only the aesthetics of the new me, something to better reflect my personality. I  also need to find a way to become someone I like a little better, someone who isn't constantly berating herself for who she is. Less neurotic, less indecisive. Someone who is happy with herself and in control.

Though I do have to say, some of the neuroses I do love. Specially the bit where I can't sit on a warm toilet seat.

The Cat Empire

Hi it's a pleasure to meet ya
Ya look like one incredible creature. ♪ 

I'm going to be referencing this band a lot, so I figured I'd make a little post about who they are and why I love them, just so you know for the future. The first problem I'm going to have to get away from is how not to become that kind of fan, you know, the type that's all "OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG" even though that's exactly what I'm thinking.

I'm the type of person who goes through major phases with music. One minute I'm listening to hip hop, then I'm on to punk, next EBM and industrial, then it's silly pop. It all just depends on the mood I'm in. But for the past four years The Cat Empire have stood unwavering at the top spot, unperturbed by any other competition coming their way from the rest of the music on my iPod. The main reason for this is their fluctuations from song to song, adding bits and pieces from a multitude of genres. They really do have a song for every mood, whether you're wanting something upbeat or chilled out, reggae rhythms, these guys will have at least one song you'll like (unless you walk around wearing burberry and listening to Cascada). This information has been verified by my many studies, which basically involve me going "OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG" and so far, everybody has liked something they've done. 

MOAR

Wikipedia says "their sound is often described as a fusion of jazz, ska, funk and rock with heavy Latin influences." True, true. But as with many experimental bands, they're incredibly hard to categorise.

They've got two singers with two incredibly distinctive voices, one of whom also does some percussion and the other who plays the trumpet, a guy who plays double bass, a drummer, a keyboardist and a dj. And that's just the full-time mermbers. There is also a small group called Empire Horns who are pretty much permanent fixtures in the band, not to mention the vast amounts of guest musicians, vocalists and dancers they include in their recordings and tours. There's a whole lot to take in.

I mean, come on, look at them, they're so cool! Who wouldn't want to listen to them?

To start you off on your voyage of Cat Empire discovery, I'll point you in the direction of what is commonly thought of as their best-loved song, and probably one that most people warm to when they initially begin listening to them.

The Cat Empire - The Chariot

Yeah, I would have embedded but the internet is hating on me right now.

Basically, what I'm trying to say here is OMG U HAVE 2 LISTEN 2 THESE GUYS THEY'RE SO AWESOME AND SEXY AND OMGOMG. 

Oh, and did I mention that singer Felix Riebl is incredibly sexy? Trufax, just watch the man dance and you'll know what I'm talking about.

Dear Future Me

Hey, how's it going? Hope life's treating you well. What's it like in 2021, provided the world hasn't ended? Did the robots ever actually take over? Or am I thinking too far ahead with that one?

Anyway, it's 2011, 10 years ago, remember that year? You said it was going to be the year of new beginnings, but I'm starting to think it's the year of waiting. Waiting for decisions to be made, waiting for the chance to move, waiting to know what's to become of you. I'm still 19, waiting to turn 20 and be free from the confines of teenagehood. I bet you're sitting there berating me just like mother would have, "Stop wishing your life away! Enjoy your youth while it lasts!" Well, that's easier said than done when everyone around you is older, giving you less respect because of your age. Don't get me wrong though, I do enjoy my youth to an extent. I love that I'm at the age where I can still dream big, life is so full of possibilities that my head swims when I think of everything I still have to experience and achieve.

I want to be a writer, I love writing, don't you? I hope you haven't given up on your dreams, I hope you've started living them already, I know how depressed you can feel when you're not being productive. How you sometimes can feel as though you're going nowhere, like you are destined to a life of moribundity, but just remember that you aren't. You can do anything, as long as you don't sit around on your arse just waiting for it to happen to you. Just start small, that's what I'm doing right now. I'm starting a blog so that I can get all those big thoughts out of my head, the ones that make me feel as though I'm drowning, like my head is full of fog. It's a heavy burden to bear, but you know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. So if even one person reads my blog then they're helping to unburden me.

So right now I'm homeless, and it's kinda tough, but I do have a lot to be grateful for. There's the lovely people who have let me stay with them, Mike, Karen, Dominic, Christina, Abbie and her mother and brother. These people are wonderful, and without them I don't know where I'd be right now. Probably dissolving into a pool of melancholy, rotting in some hostel. Where are you living? Big, small, grand or humble, I bet I'd love it. I bet it's full of bright colours and shiny baubles, and if it's not then what on Earth happened? You used to love all things tacky and gaudy! Remember your roots, girl!

Are you married? Is he handsome? Although I suppose it doesn't have to be a man, you could be married to a woman. Anything could happen in the space of ten years. But love is love, so take it where you find it (unless that place is a bit illegal) and nurture and cherish it, no matter who you find yourself sharing it with. Please just be happy, wherever you are and whoever it is you're with. Don't let anything get you down. Retain your optimism, it's something I've always admired about you. Please stop being so god damn unmotivated though, it's always bugged me. This is your life, you are in charge of what happens to you (unless the robots have taken over).

Whatever happens, always remember that I love you. To me you symbolise everything that can be. To you I suppose I symbolise everything that has been.

Good luck.
                 Robyn
                            xx

p.s. Today is day #1 of your reinvention, I hope it goes in your favour.