The Sound of Girls Aloud.

Alright, alright. I'll admit it now. I love Girls Aloud.

You Yanks have probably never heard of these gals. You see, they are pretty much the epitome of manufactured pop, winning the UK talent reality show 'Pop Stars: The Rivals' some years ago. And ever since then, they have been pretty much exploding the UK charts with their infectious pop music.

I know I may not seem like a fan, and honestly, I usually would not be interested in something like this. But after several listens, I was hooked. From the rockish rhythms of 'Sound of the Underground' to their sensual latest single 'Can't Speak French', These gals are girl power pop that satisfies.

Who are the girls, you ask? Let me introduce you to them...

Nadine Coyle, the Irish songstress, is definitely my favorite Girls Aloud. Her amazingly powerful voice can definitely win anyone's heart. Not to mention she's gorgeous.


Ahh Cheryl Tweedy-Cole. Married to Chelsea FC's money-grubber Ashley Cole, she is every English bloke's dream. And I'm sure, if guys in America found out about her, they'd drool over her as well. Who knows, she might give American lads a chance. After all, her marriage is kinda on the rocks. (Where's ya Cheryl gone, Ash??)


Kimberley Walsh is my second favorite GA. She seems really chill and has that really husky voice that although it is not the best, it's definitely different and interesting.

Although she is probably the least favorite GA amongst fans, I happen to quite like Nicola Roberts. Calling her 'The Ugliest Aloud' is quite mean, no? I love her red hair, way better than her current blonde.


I'm afraid to say, but I'm not very keen on Sarah Harding. There is this bitchy quality about that irks me. Plus, I'm fond of her partying ways.


If you are interested in trying them, I recommend the single that would make them forever be known as amazing pop, Biology. To be honest, it took me awhile to get into this song. But now I can't believe why it took me so long to like it. It's so infectious and fun, just how pop music should be.

Up The Arse.

I expected to stay at home today in peace and catch up on the FA Cup matches that were on. To my dismay, I found out that I had to go to my aunt's house for the day. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I just don't like changes in plan.

So I figured, "all is well, I'll just check up on the live commentary on Yahoo! Sports via iTouch." Then I arrived at my aunt's house, finding out that their wifi was not working. I sat on their couch reading The Gun Seller, from Thursday's night out alone, but I could not be fully committed. My mind was on Arsenal and Manchester United.

Why this particular match?

1. Arsenal, the greatest club ever, is playing. This is stating the obvious.
2. Manchester Scum. To see us beating those devils would be class.

However, based on the lineups, it seems that both teams did not have their best on the field, particularly the gunners. It seems as if the club is more so a hospital ward than an actual football team, with injuries of Clichy, Senderos, Adebayor, and Flamini. The thought of Adebayor not being in this match was troublesome, for he has been the king of North London recently, scoring goal after goal. My hubby (Fabregas) was in, but twas not the best choice--he was sick from a throat infection.

Manchester was missing Cristiano Ronaldo from the match today. The smug--albeit quite dashing--jerkoff had led the Red Devils in a stint as top of the EPL with his match-winning penalty kicks. Surely Manchester would suffer without their beloved diving winker --er...winger?

Nope. Not at all.

Arsenal lost 4-nil.

Humilating right? Coming straight home to check the scores immediately resulted in my heart clashing on the floor. But in retrospect, everything's gonna be alright. The Mancs can celebrate for now, but they'll be stuffing themselves with prawn sandwiches when we have the big prizes at the Emirates.

After all, it's the FA Cup. Why settle for the hamburger when you can have the fillet mignon? The gunners have other more important worries, such as the epic Champions League match against defending champions AC Milan on Wednesday. A match that I will rush home to catch, and I won't settle for missing a minute of it. With all these injuries coming about they must rest in order to be well for the big match.

Also, what have those devils? Quarter Finals in the FA Cup, eh? Well, the gunners are five points clear in the league. Ergo, still best of the league.

So despite the horrible outcome of today's match, I'm sure gooners around the world can agree that this is not something to worry over.

Looking on the bright side, at least we're not Liverpool, right?

Oh, and for some more reassuring smiles...



[[Pictures from Yahoo! Sports and someone's siggy at cr17.com]]

In Babyshambles.

I think I understand what Kate Moss saw in Pete Doherty now.

The constant sight of Kate Moss and her proclaimed cokehead bloke on entertainment shows being chased by the paps hurts the eyes very much. Sure, we kept preaching Ms. Moss to leave him, but why did it take so long for her to do so? I mean, look at what he did to her! She was lucky that Karl Lagerfeld had her in a Chanel campaign after the whole fiasco.

But after listening to Babyshambles, "Coke"erty's band after the split from Carl Barât and The Libertines, I finally understood. She saw his music, not his heart.

Perhaps his music was his heart and soul, it's ashame I can't ask Monsieur Doherty myself. But without ever knowing that Doherty was the bloke behind the punk revival tunes of Babyshambles, hell I'd fancy him just a tiny bit. He's not the most striking lad, but that would be too shallow, no? ;]

Shotter's Nation and Down in Albion have been on rotation for the past 24 hours, and there seems to be no stopping it. The raw frankness of "Fuck Forever" has got me hooked. Doherty's voice with that edge of Northern accent is quite dreamy, if you get that crackhead image out of your head.

Could it be possible, that he is at his music-making prime because of coke? Bono has cigarettes, Mick Jagger has heroin, and Pete Doherty has coke. Would stopping the use of coke would weaken his ability to produce amazing music? That would be disappointing, for like any other good soul in the world, I wouldn't want to push him to keep using horrible drugs, that's just not part of being a good soul. But the thought of a cleaner Doherty making squeakier music is troublesome.

Nevertheless, there is no point being concerned over the future of this band. They seem to be well-off, making awesome music for ones that truly appreciate their work, not their druggie facade. Things are well, with or without that supermodel. What's her name again?

A Certain Romance.

So yesterday was Valentine's Day. Half of the teenage girls gushed at the half-wilting roses they received from boyfriends, and the other half mope at their lack of relationship. Some whine and complain about the holiday, others fall head over heels at the materialism of it all.

I however, am indifferent. I am pleased with being single, and I have no intention to be in a relationship anytime soon. Life is just wonderful without a guy to ruin it. I don't condone the holiday, but I won't go weep in an emo corner over the Hallmark holiday. Sure, those teenyboppers reveling over their boyfriends is quite annoying, but what's it to me? I'm too preoccupied with my own life.

When the topic of romance comes up, the ideas and subjects that correlate to it can go on. Everyone has their own interpretation of what it means. Some can be more meaningful than others, but what's so deep about Valentine's Day anyways? Whether it be weeping over Danielle Steel novels or watching the dashing and handsome Hugh Grant on screen, there are many ways that romance revolves around us. If I ask a girl my age what is their interpretation of romance, I honestly have no clue what I would get. Kids these days can be quite unpredictable, but the thought of getting something truly meaningful and thought-provoking is meek. Could it be the dozen roses their 'prince charming' gave them, or The Notebook? Those seem like reasonably predictable answers, I suppose. Maybe not my idea of romance, but whatsoever.

Then I wondered, "What is my idea of romance?" I mean, granted, I'm not the mushiest gal in the world, and although I can be sympathetic of others, I find myself to be more of a realist than a whimsical love pixie. I was thinking of just making this a journal entry, but then remembered my attempts to bring life back into this blog, I figured this might be more apropos.

So what is romance to me, you say? I've pondered this, and I got a lot of random and scattered thoughts. Along with going into detail over my thoughts, I will add some visual aid as well.

Romance is the Lost Generation. The dreamy works of Fitzgerald and Hemingway, depicting the City of Love itself and the wonderful, terse prose takes me into a trance full of dashing men in brimmed hats wooing me with words.



Romance is ruffles, chiffon and rosettes. Victorianesque in romantic blush, and so dainty and flowy, making me wish I was Marie Antionette of the French Revolution.



Romance is music. Whatever music you like. Mine is Coldplay. Their words truly touch my heart and soul and put a smile upon my face.



Romance is books. Books upon books, even if it is not a romance-inspired novel. My love of books in general is extraordinary, from the beautiful stories depicted on the pages right down to the musty smell of the leafs of paper. I hope to expand my book collection a lot more this year, and get some reading in as well.


Romance is Audrey Hepburn films. Whether she's the extravagantly lux Holly Golightly or Eliza Dolittle, her aura is amazing and it's hard not to fall in love with her.


Romance is baking. Baking a confection for someone you love, or just to enjoy yourself. It's self-satisfying and pretty darn tasty.



Romance is Spain and the Spanish language. Whether it may be the iridescent lights of Madrid or the Catalan spice of Barcelona. Or the mysterious, dark men of the land.


Romance is the simple pleasures in life. Mine is sipping green tea upon reading a good book, and staring at colorful macarons in decadent displays. As well as cracking creme brulee with a spoon, just as the girl I wish to be, Amelie, does.
...And romance, is last but not least, knowing that somewhere out there, someone is waiting to meet me and finally appreciate what I have to offer to their heart, and therefore making me accept that I have to love myself.

[[La Tartine Gourmande]]

A Secret Agent and Cupcakes.

A legitimate post! First of the year. Whoopie.

So this afternoon I had the sudden urge to go to Borders. I have been itching to go for the past week or so. I've been yearning to buy several books. Some books I don't even really want, I just get them because I know I'll read it some time later on, and I'll like it. My future wunderkinds will definitely like them too. I'll whip them into shape. With Hemingway and Salinger.

Anyways, upon arriving at the store at 5:30, i went through the doors, and I could have sworn I heard cherubic little angels in the distance, humming a harmonious tune (I'm thinking it was Coldplay's Yellow). Bright lights. Shelves upon shelves, tables upon tables of books. Music. Movies. Caffeinated substance. Heaven. After a week of people just annoying me and having no regard for my privacy and well-being, this was a contrast very much so needed.

I started circling the 'new releases' and 'best sellers', smiling as a made a check list of books in my head, with each book i passed on the tables crossing out an item on my list one by one. But then I needed to get focused, for there was a book that I was on a search for. The Gun Seller. Never heard of it? You might know the author. Dr. House himself, Hugh Laurie. After hearing from a good friend of it's quick wit and secret agent fun, I was very intrigued. So my quest began, scanning aisle to aisle looking for the authors that started with 'L'. After several minutes, I found the 'LA's, having to bend down on my knees to look for the book. And then, as if Godsend, I found it. Only one copy, and it was right there on the farthest right hand side of the shelf. "A-Punk" by Vampire Weekend started playing on the speakers, and it was the coolest 'moment of truth' moment ever. I took out the book, held it close with happiness, and skipped on, looking for the next book that would satisfy my cranium.


But then I was distracted by the CDs. I went through the pop/rock section alphabetically, checking out the prices of the album I already had. $17.99 for Kid A??? Mad! Though In Rainbows was only $11.99, so it compensated I guess. I have this thing where even though I already have the albums, I check them out in the CDs section anyways, just for kicks. I'm odd, I know.

After that is the DVDs (I'm telling you, I went through ALL of the store). Hot Fuzz on sale for $14.99!!! But I have a gift card to Target, so I thought perhaps I would buy it there. Plus, I felt guilty shelling out so many quids in one shopping time.

I don't usually peruse through the cookbooks section, but from the back of my mind, I remembered my interest in baking some different kinds of cupcakes, rather than the mundane vanilla Magnolia Bakery recipe I've been using for two years. I wish to hone my skills as a cupcake connoisseur. So I got this adorable cookbook, with dainty photos of sweet cupcakes in bright pastels and dreamy chocolate brown. So cute! I can't wait to try out the recipes.


After snickering at the romance novel sale they were having (buy 4, get 1 free, by the way), I paid for the books and headed for the coffee shop adjacent. Naturally, I had to check the newsstand, and I was pretty pleased. The new issue of Elle is on the stands now (Amy Adams!), so fingers crossed that it will come in the mail tomorrow! After making sure no one was looking, I crept to the back where the sports magazines were, scanning for any footie (soccer, for you Yanks) magazines. And sure enough, there were several, including one with El Niño himself, Fernando Torres! Personally, he's not my favorite footballer, Cesc Fabregas is my husband after all, but there's no denying he's awesome. Plus, there's a few Cesc mentions in the magazines!! Then I found out there was another recent issue, but with Wayne Rooney (meh). Honestly, I didn't know that Osama Bin Laden was a gooner! So what do me, the Queen of England, and Osama Bin Laden have in common? We are Arsenal Football Club fans. :P I sat there, reading the mags for a good half-hour, giggling in my head whenever I saw an ad featuring Fatty--err...Franky Lampard. :P I got a weird stare from a man looking at magazines nearby, but whatsoever. Nothing can change my love for the sport. Come to think of it...I don't know any 16 year old Asian-American girls that love footie this much. I blame it on my family.



Afterwards I ordered a hot mocha and sat with my book, nearly burning my tongue from the coffee. I got three chapters down, silently chuckling at Sir Laurie's humor along the way (I think he should be knighted sometime in the future...he is England's gift to America. Him and Coldplay). Matter of fact, Chris Martin should be knighted to. And Simon Pegg. Ahh off topic.

My night was wonderful so far. Sitting in a cafe in a bookstore with a good book and a coffee, peace and quiet. No mall rats. It was absolutely perfect. I enjoyed my new book in tranquility. Until these tweens, no older than twelve, came in the cafe. Abercrombie-clad in all their infamous glory, donning denim miniskirts with complementary Uggs in the dead of winter. I nearly gagged on my mocha. It irked me how kids these days are assuming that if they cause a scene and drink coffee, that they are cool. It's absolutely ridiculous. Totally ruining the Vampire Weekend (who were being played continually throughout the night...awesome) playing on the speakers. Ugh. I remember when I was twelve, and I don't think I was ever that obnoxious. At least I hope I wasn't. Nevertheless, I'm quite an odd child now, but at least I don't get into the antics of today's youth. I hate sounding so elitist, but it's just annoying. Sorry kids.

After they left, I could finally enjoy the rest of my reading time. I then checked the time, and was shocked that it was already 8:30! Time to leave, the parents were waiting. I left the store feeling so satisfied, definitely the highlight of my week. And if I bored you with this anti-climatic story, I apologize. It was just a very exciting night for me. Alone with a book. Fabulous.

Out With The Old...

New year. New name. New banner.

And hopefully new posts soon! :P

Oh Natalie....

With Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium coming out, it was inevitable that Ms. Portman would be all over. And hey--I'm not complaining. She definitely needs more recognition than she already has so far. This is way more refreshing than hearing about Brit's custody battles.

Natalie is not only on the cover of Instyle...but Teen Vogue as well! I'm not a Teen Vogue type of person, but maybe I'll give in for some Natalie...


She's looks so gorgeous on both covers, but I think Teen Vogue is confused with seasons (that looks like a summer cover, no?)....

I think I'm gonna have to shell out more money for magazines..again. But I'm willing to spend for Nats.