2018

I was just looking back through my Insta stories and realising how packed this year has been. I made a pact with myself at the start of the year to do something every month, a show, a concert, a trip or such like. And I did just that. 

As with always, I've set out to do what makes me happy as much as I can. I still don't have the career I want and am still woefully single but I've done what I wanted to do. I read books(107), I went to shows, I reveled in all that London has to offer, and did it with the people I love. 

Concerts: Harry Styles, Gary Barlow x 5, Take That(Hits Radio Live, there were other people there too, I didn't pay them much attention)

Musicals: 42nd Street, Kinky Boots, Aladdin, Hamilton, Heathers, Company, The Band x 5, Chicago x 5

Other events: NTAs, Harry Potter exhibition at the British Library, A Monster Calls play, Spice World in Regents Park, Caroline at Build, Aftersun

The only month which was eventless was March, due to snow(I was meant to to see The Band and Imagine Dragons) but I did meet the boys that month which more than made up for it. 

I also met Caroline quite a few times, Gary by himself in October, the usual spattering of celebs at work, and amazingly Jude Law and Eddie Redmayne at Platform 9 3/4 on September 1st. 

I had the most amazing two week trip to Portugal with my family, and also visited Bristol, Bath, Manchester, Brighton and went home as often as I could(in May I basically lived at the airport). 

The biggest and best thing that happened was that I moved into my own flat, which is an actual life dream, to have my own flat in London. It's filled with books and yellow things and Take That memorabilia and I couldn't love it more. It is the most fantastic feeling in the world having my own space and I cherish it every day. 

Low points of the year: Getting my phone stolen right out of my hand on Regent St just before Christmas, the snow in March, my awful ex-housemates and that time I went into anaphylactic shock due to antibiotics I was taking and ended up in A&E via an ambulance

Highlights: Repealing the eighth(hey to the yes, the north next), moving flat, Portugal, meeting the boys and Caz as Roxie in Chicago. 

Favourite album of the year: Odyssey by Take That, Everlasting being my favourite song

Favourite movie of the year: Honestly can't even remember that many movies but I really enjoyed Mamma Mia 2, The Greatest Showman and Mary Poppins Returns

Favourite telly show of the year: Love Island, of course. I got to watch the final in the cinema and it was ace. Jack and Dani 4evs. I also binged The Good Place which was forking incredible, rewatched the David Tennant era of Doctor Who and weeped quite a bit, rewatched Grey's Anatomy until that episode and rewatched the wholesome Great British Bake Off(the BBC years). Mostly when I should have been watching new shows I stuck on Gilmore Girls instead. 

During my Strictly viewing I fell down a shipper hole and here I am a fully fledged shipper of Joe Sugg and Dianne Buswell. I never thought by the start of the year I'd be a Joe Sugg stan but there you go, I am powerless to adorable couples and group chats which aid obsessions. 

Favourite books of the year: Always a toughy. Books I rated 5 stars are 

•  Better Me by Gary Barlow
•  A Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor
•  How To Stop Time by Matt Haig
• I'd Rather Be Reading by Anne Bogel
• Wundersmith by Jessica Townsend
• Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor
• Lethal White by J.K. Rowling
• You, Me, Everything by Catherine Isaac
• My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick
• How To Be Famous by Caitlin Moran
• The Astonishing Colour of After by Emily X.R. Pan
• The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton
• Every Note Played by Lisa Genova
• The Phanthom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
• Mad Girl by Bryony Gordon
• Windfall by Jennifer E. Smith
• The Summer of Impossible Things by Rowan Coleman

I rated a lot of books 4 stars as well but I'll be here all day listing those. A good reading year! It always is. A resolution I'll never need to make is to read more. 

So all in all, 2018, a few dips of horrendousness here and there, was pretty fantastic. Shout out to my incredible friends, for the laughs and the memories and the general putting up with me, and to my wonderful immediate family who are there for me no matter what. Also shout out to Take That and Caroline Flack, my fandom loves, for giving me much entertainment and happiness throughout the year. 2019 is gonna be a good one, bring it on! Over and out, 2018, you've been a wild ride. 

Repeal the 8th

There’s a big vote happening in Ireland this week. We’re voting on whether or not to repeal the eighth amendment. To those who don’t know, in 1983 the country voted to include this amendment in the constitution, ‘equalling’ the life of the unborn to that of the pregnant woman. Basically meaning that women can’t get abortions, in any circumstances.

I’ve been talking to a lot of people about this lately, as someone who lives in London I work with people of many different nationalities, and not one of them had a clue about the extent of what the eighth amendment is about. One person went ‘Oh I’m sure if a grandmother heard her granddaughter had had a one night stand and had made a mistake, she’d want her to have the choice’. I repeated this to a customer later on and she said ‘Ireland doesn’t care about that. Ireland doesn’t care if a 12 year old gets raped by her father’

You’d think she was exaggerating but no. In Ireland if you get raped you can’t get an abortion. If it’s incest you can’t get an abortion. If the baby has a fatal foetal anomaly(FFA) you can’t get an abortion. If you get cancer and find out you’re pregnant you can’t get an abortion. The only instance of you being able to get an abortion is if you will die otherwise. And this was only made law after a woman died.

In 2012 Savita Halappanavar went to hospital suffering a miscarriage. Because the doctors could still hear a heartbeat they refused to give her an abortion. Due to this lack of care Savita developed sepsis and died. And only after the tragedy of her death did it become law that you could get an abortion if you would die otherwise.

There are countless other stories, the X Case, A, B and C v Ireland, Sheila Hodgers and Ms Y. Let alone the twelve women a day who travel to the UK to get an abortion. Or those who buy abortion pills over the internet and can’t seek proper medical care to deal with their situation.

Those women who don’t think it’s the right time to have a child or who’s contraception didn’t work or those who just don’t want a baby. The one’s who desperately wanted a child but suffered a FFA and had to declare their baby as ‘human remains’ at customs just so they could bury their baby at home.

Imagine the trauma. The trauma of being raped or finding out your baby is dying inside of you. Imagine having to book a flight and queue up with everyone else, travel away from home, have medical treatment in another country, maybe not have your loved ones with you or someone to hold your hand. To have to travel back home when you should be resting and then not being able to tell anyone what you have been through.

In Ireland currently if you’re found to have illegally taken abortion pills you can face up to 14 years in prison. 14 YEARS. For having control over your own body.

If you die, doctors can’t donor your organs without consent. A dead person currently has more rights to their own body than a woman in Ireland.

And it’s disgraceful that we’re even having to vote on this. That the No side is shoving posters up full of such vitriol and lies. Women should have control over their own bodies, they should be able to make up their own minds about what happens in their lives. Not be forced to carry a pregnancy they don’t want or fly to a different country to receive the healthcare they should get at home.

Talking to people in London, they can’t fathom it, they can’t believe that this is happening in 2018 in a country just over the water. And it’s ridiculous that this is what we’ve been brought up with, what we’ve been taught. That we should be ashamed of having an abortion, even of having sex at all.

So much of this is still shrouded in the Catholic church. The same church where mass graves of babies and children were found in a home for unwed mothers, who had the Magdalene Laundries, who threw babies into septic tanks, who sold the babies of those unwed to Americans, who forced mothers to give their babies up for adoption.

The Catholic Church only seems to care about babies when they’re still in-utero, when it’s ‘a sin’ to kill the unborn, when it’s evil to ‘slaughter the innocents’. The Church should have nothing to do with this, they should have nothing to do with anyone’s health or life decisions. Divorce was illegal, being gay was illegal, the pill was illegal. Sex should be had in marriage, with two straight people and oh no don’t use contraception because children are a gift of god but only in these exact circumstances. It’s shame, nothing but shame, for sex, for basic enjoyment, for being a fucking human. According to them we should be punished for being human.

Abortions happen anyway. They happen in Ireland and they happen when Ireland exports an issue they don’t want to deal with to other close by countries. Voting yes isn’t agreeing with abortion. It’s agreeing with choice, it’s agreeing that women should have the right to their own body, to decide what is best for them and to be able to access the healthcare they need when they need it. People who don’t agree with abortion shouldn’t have one but it shouldn’t be up to anybody else to decide what a person does with their own body. Vote yes, to stop the shame, to be compassionate, to help women who should have had the decision to choice a long time ago. It’s a once in a lifetime vote and we can’t let this slip us by, vote yes on May 25^th, repeal the 8^th while we can.

My most favourite person that I don’t actually know

I’ve met Mark Owen once. Twice kinda. It was on the same day. I met him at Radio 1, got a quick selfie(and ended up getting papped) and then later the same day at an album signing. I thanked him for making my whole life better, he went ‘Awww bless you!’. I nearly cried on him.

I’ve seen him in person more than I’ve seen the vast majority of my family, all but the very immediate really. But I don’t actually know him. He has no idea who I am and yet he’s one of my favourite people. Favourite popstar, favourite singer, favourite face. With it’s dimples and smiles, often with a hat atop his tousled, mind of it’s own hair.

As Take That fans, we all have our own favourites, the hard working and thoughtful Gary, the filthy minded and hilarious Howard. And there’s Mark. I met a customer at work yesterday who noticed the Take That pin around my lanyard and we got chatting. She said everything about Mark made you want to cuddle him and it’s so true. He’s just cute, undeniably cute, and so so lovely.

His laugh is infectious, he’s the biggest dork. He causes delays at signings and walking through crowds because he takes so long with each fan. He takes time with people and he makes you feel happier. Just by existing.

It’s a funny concept loving someone so much that you don’t even know. A few years back Mark made me question that you could think you knew someone but really have no idea. That facades can shatter quite dramatically. But then also there came the realisation that doing bad things doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. That mistakes can happen, big mistakes and you can just try to better yourself and move on. And still be the kind of person who finds it a little offensive not to write more than one letter in your signature.

I’ve always had a thing for cute people, and short people and people with tattoos(hello Caroline Flack and Preston to name but a few) so it’s no surprise I became a Mark girl when I got in Take That. And continued to be as he showed just how sweet and kind and adorable he was.

The kind of person to walk along an entire line of people during a tv show recording and ask them what they liked on their chips(oh mayo, my little girl Fox likes mayo on her chips), or do a somersault with his daughter in the middle of a phone interview with Australia. Or do an Instagram Christmas countdown which involved elf outfits and sporadic appearances of his dog. And all these things just make your day a little bit better, help make life a bit more bearable.

Mark, and his mates, have, been there when my family have been sick or dying, when I felt lonely in school, when I moved country all alone. Just listening to his voice would help and then when you see him and the boys live it can’t help but be just the best thing ever, when he smiles or sings right at you and you feel for a moment that he does know you, if only for just those fleeting magical few seconds.

It’s Mark birthday today, he’s 46, when I first started loving Take That he was 34. And he’s still the same, still down to earth and humble and kind and sweet and that something that makes him Mark Owen. The one who wears anything shiny or tasselled along with his high heeled boots and hats. The only one who’d ever wear a sequinned jumpsuit or ‘that bloody coat’. Because he’s Mark. The wonderful Mark Owen, my most favourite person that I don’t actually know.