A blast from my musical past

Having just listened to this incredible woman on my way home, I thought I'd tap out a little ode to one of my all time style icons.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgL7-hFAdoI

That's right, it is the queen of pop Madonna, and this powerful lady has been a consistent feature in my life since the day it started. My mother used to play her albums to me in the womb. I swear, I actually came out all gooed up and singing "Lucky Star"!

I'm more than happy to admit that I often take to the stage on karaoke nights, and belt out the good old "Like A Prayer". Not well, I might add, but somehow it always goes down a storm - and my best friend Ray has been known to join me in an even more eccentric version of "Like A Virgin". This is always even worse than the previous, if I'm honest - but seeing two, happy-through-the-wine ladies up on stage, giggling their way through that song never fails to entertain.

I have adored nearly every record she has ever released, and have always admired her fantastic attire - especially in her younger years. Whilst I accept that the leotard-wearing Madonna of 2005 was not necessarily a triumph, her Vogue phase was a total hit and I would like to meet a girl these days who doesn't wish she could wear an all-in-one, lace body suit, whilst pulling off a white-blonde perm. And let's face it, at one point we have all dreamed of waltzing into our local bar in THAT cone-shaped bra and declaring : "What, this old thing? Well thank you, it's just something I threw on."

Permed hair, gap-toothed smile and a beauty spot. On paper, it sounds like something out of a horror movie, but the reality for Madonna is that she is so damn beautiful with it. So beautiful, in fact, that I even have a dress with her in her vogue pose splashed across the front of it.

Yes, it was a shame when she got all veiny and hyper-religious, but she will - forever more - be remembered in my mind as the only woman in history who can make frizzy hair, lace gloves and a string vest sexy.

Legal but under suspicion?

Picture this: It's a quiet Saturday night in my hometown of Coleshill. My best friend Ray has just driven me (for the first time) to Sutton for a scrummy meal, and we have retired home to a local pub to wile the last few hours of the night away, in a happy, friendly place.

Glass of wine in hand, me and my Boo chat away, when suddenly the door bangs open and a fierce looking police officer marches in and demands to see our IDs. He is ruthless; studying our driving licences as though I had just told him I was 85 and President of Geneva. Then he proceeds to scrutinise every aspect of our being - our hair colour, eye colour, height, chosen attire for the evening, and even enquires about my tattoo. And the whole time this farce is going on, the entire pub watches with bated breath. Atrocious, mortifying, simply humiliating...

Ok, so maybe it didn't happen exactly like that. The cop was actually only a few inches taller than me, and was more than friendly when asking about our ages, but still, you get the point.

I will say this again as I said it last night (27/11/10) : I have no problem being asked to prove my age. Hell, I'm not stupid, I'm aware I look 15 on a good day, and - having worked in the pub trade since I was 16 - I'm also aware that plenty of youngsters look far older than they actually are these days. I'd ID myself if I didn't know any better! But what I do object to is having my details taken - and in great detail at that - in front of a pub full of my friends and colleges, when I have already proved that I am twenty-one.

It really was a tad embarrassing, and everybody was looking and laughing - I genuinely did feel as though I was doing something wrong, and it certainly looked that way to everybody else. Silly as it sounds, I was a bit miffed at being treated like a criminal when I am legal to drink and have been for the last three years.

And what exactly does he need my details for anyway? Oh, why yes, they're going to go into a big database and will be stored for the rest of my life. God forbid that I should get a bit crazy in the January sales, and elbow a fellow shopper trying to reach for the last size 8 River Island dress that's down from £40 to £3. "Yes officer, it was her. Has she got purple hair and an anchor tattoo on her wrist? Yes then it's definately her." Two taps of a keyboard and I'll be sent down for assault!

I don't think the whole charade went down too well with the locals either. There was lots of overly-loud conversations about "Haven't the police got anything better to be doing on a Saturday night other than bothering two nice little girls?" and "Why aren't they out catching the real criminals?". One member of the pub club even threw a bag of pork scratchings at the officer in question and was hauled outside for being drunk and disorderly or something of the like!

I say, who would have thought a sleepy town like ours could be at the centre of such a dramatic police raid? And with little old me at the heart of all the drama? Oh, what an anecdote ay!

Four days in a frosty haven

Today is my first day back in the working world after a truly wonderful four-day trip to Gloucestershire with my other half, and I have to say, it's just as cold back here in Brum but not half a peaceful.

Me and the Mr whisked ourselves away to the beautiful Sherborne House, a stately home in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling hills, stunning water features and breathtaking landscape gardens. It has it's own tennis courts, mini gym, games room, sauna and swimming pool on site - as well as an unconventional orangery and rose gardens to peruse.

Our little house was decked with bespoke antique furniture and more country-themed rugs than you could shake a stick at! The whole site was enthralling, and I can honestly say it was like locking yourself away in a completely forgotten world of regency, grandeur and horticulture.

Ten minutes away lies the sweet little village of Bourton-on-the-Water; the so-called Venice of Britain. The whole town is built around the river which runs throughout it, and has more tea rooms, country pubs and trinket shops than you can envision. Me and the Man indulged in all of the above, as well as The Dragonfly maze and the Model Village. Both were brilliant, and the maze was some of the most fun I've had in ages. I don't mind admitting that I was like a little kid in there; running round like a nutter, trying to find the clues to unlock the secret of the maze! And the boyfriend humoured me, bless him!

We journeyed to Cheltenham for lunch the one day, and spent the following day wandering the grounds of the delightful Sherborne House. The whole experience was bliss - a really romantic getaway for us both.

Many would be fooled into thinking that this was just a fleeting trip away; an impromptu voyage of self-indulgence? You would only be half right. This trip was about far more then just a romantic break for me and the Fella, and I'm just about to tell you why.

As those who know me will already know, me and my other half don't have the most

conventional of relationships, and unfortunately it is through no fault of our own. You see, my Mr is a poorly boy, as not long after we met earlier this year, he discovered he had Hodgkin's Lymphoma - a form of cancer which originates from the white blood cells in the body and spreads throughout the lymph nodes (in the neck and under the arm). He has spent the last five months being treated with Chemotherapy, and he is now currently waiting for a scan to determine the success of the treatment so far and what should be done next.

At the prime age of 23, this was more than just a shock for him and his family - and me, if I'm completely honest. It was not helped, in my mind, by the tragedy I had suffered shortly before meeting my Man. I had lost somebody very close to me, suddenly and seemingly without explanation, and after finding out about the boyfriend's illness, I nicknamed myself The Black Widow.

I felt I was cursed, and I will be honest enough to say that shortly after he called to tell me the news, I phoned my best friend Ray and told her that it was all my fault. I genuinely believed for those few short hours that I was the reason he was ill. I had already lost one great man, and now I was going to cause even more harm to another undeserving being. Ray set me straight of course, and her words made me realise that this wasn't about me any more - from here on out it was all about him.

Now, nearly six months down the line, it's been a rough ride, but one I'll never regret. As you can imagine though, he really did need this break! My Fella is the strongest, most focused and rational person I have ever had the good fortune to meet, and I can only hope he knows how privileged I feel to be the person he has chosen to be with him during all of this.

Let's face it, this isn't the best of times for him to be working on a blossoming relationship, but my other half always makes a massive effort with me. When he is well enough, we go for dinner, we go to the movies, we go for walks and now we've even gone on a little trip. He doesn't sit around feeling sorry for himself, being spoon fed and reaping in the sympathy - he buckles up and gets on with life.

So this, I guess, is my little tribute to him and all that he is. Being with him makes you realise what real tragedy is. Tragedy is not falling out with your boyfriend over what to watch on TV, or being bitched about at work. Tragedy is watching somebody who is such a genuinely good and wholesome human being suffer over something which is out of their control. So for all those out there who make a huge deal out of the slightest little knock in life, I genuinely hope they can appreciate our situation.

Everyone likes to have a good whine once in a while - I certainly do! But my life has been completely put into perspective over this past year, and I hope that in reading this, I might just help a few others to find a bit more perspective in their lives. So ask yourself, in the grand scheme of things, is it really all that bad?

A Cindy Doll Massacre

I am sat here on a Sunday night, frantically trying to find inspiration for tomorrow's Visual Design Studio. You see, I made the very grave mistake of taking on the role of Web Designer in the group and am now beginning to regret it.

Without blowing my own horn, I have quite a good sense of what looks good when it comes to page layouts in a magazine. I'm not bad with the typography, I can use the software well

and I'm a dab hand when it comes to structuring columns and manipulating images to make rather spiffing page furniture.

Websites, however, are nothing like an A4 magazine page, and boy don't I know it now! I spent three hours in last week's class mocking up two basic webpages for our group project - only to be told rather bluntly by my egotistical lecturer that they looked "too simplistic", "infantile" and "like somebody had just sat at home sticking things randomly in the space". So I was not best pleased, as you can imagine.

I'm trying to design a retro - maybe even kitch - inspired website for our fake fashion event entitled "The Indie Cindy Show", but so far all I've managed to do is mutilate some Cindy dolls and plonk random Photoshoped images on a page.

What I'd really like to do is pull something out of the bag that wipes that smug, "I walked out of uni and set up my own highly successful, well-paying design business" smile, right off my tutor's face. So please, if anyone can throw some ideas my way it would be much appreciated?

Speak no evil

I spend my Friday mornings studying Media Law, which I have no doubt will become very handy after I graduate, and my knowledge of it will hopefully stop me being sued into bankruptcy.

It is surprising to realise just how little you can actually publish compared to the graphic details you may hear with relation to some cases. After four hours spent at Birmingham Crown Court a few weeks ago, I had heard plenty of the nitty gritty on the following case, and yet this was what I was legally allowed to publish:

Three in mentally handicapped rape charge

Three Birmingham men have been accused of raping a mentally handicapped woman from their local area, the courts heard yesterday.

Friends James Lee Reilly, Lee Daniel Holder and Lee Wayne Princep – appearing at Birmingham Crown Court - face individual charges of rape and sexual assault after meeting the woman at the Royal George pub in Birmingham earlier this year and heading back to her flat around 2am on the night in question to continue drinking.

The woman – who has been described as having a mental age of thirteen-year-old - has alleged that she asked the defendants to leave after a few hours but they refused, after which they proceeded to lock her in her bedroom while they stole her television.

The woman also claims that the three men exposed themselves to her, and that Mr Holder had her trapped in her bedroom whilst he lay on top of her and pressed his groin against her. She is claiming numerous rape and sexual assault charges against Reilly, Holder and Princep – one alleged assault is said to involve the use of a toilet roll holder.

The defendants admit to being at the woman’s flat on the night in question and claim that there were sexual activities taking place that night, but insist that the woman encouraged them to expose themselves to her and allege that she took each one of them into her bedroom to perform sex acts on them.

The woman strongly denies this and alleges that all of the sexual acts said to have happened that night were non-consensual. The case continues tomorrow.

Under the restrictions of media law:

• I could not name the claimant as she was an alleged victim of sexual assault.
• I could not report on any previous convictions against either the claimant or the defendants that were not discussed in front of the jury.
• I could not report on the claimant's previous sexual history under Section 41, as it was not strictly relevant to the current case.

It is difficult as a rookie journo to know where to draw the line with what could be considered the best or "juiciest" details of the case. I think I have a good understanding of what is legal and what isn't, and they do make that quite clear. But some areas are very much grey areas, and if you choose not to include certain gritty details you can sometimes lose the whole angle of the story.

This story is hardly front page material, but there are certain details within it which I believe make it more interesting and give it an air of the somewhat unusual - which is why I have chosen to include the particular details which others may not.

I guess the learning curve for me will not be the black and white legalities, but the grey areas which can sometimes separate the mundane from the extraordinary. The question is, how far do you push it?

The Women Folk

I would like to introduce you to my kindred spirits whom I call my Women Folk. Ever since I was young I have always had more male friends than female friends, as I will happily admit that us women can sometimes be quite difficult to handle - and men (generally) spend less time bitching and fighting and more time having a laugh and enjoying themselves.

From left to right in the above picture you have The Hood, Jessicat, Clare-bear, Eccabell and Claireibell. We all attend the same uni, four of us study journalism, one studies PR and one studies art. We all share similar interests and pastimes, and yet not a single one of us is anything like another, which is what I believe makes us such a great group. There have been fallings out, there have been ups and downs, but after two and a half years together we still have a great time together regardless of anything else.

For years I have craved the male mentality in my life, but after meeting my beautiful Women Folk during my first year at university, I can honestly say I've never been happier and more at ease in a group of friends. They have made my uni years what they are, and I couldn't very well sit here telling you all about my life as a haphazard twenty-something without bringing these colourful characters into the limelight. These ladies will be featuring in a great deal of the posts on here, of that I have no doubt.

As I currently demonstrating in my choice of imagery for this post, we have numerous shared interests: mainly dressing up, dancing and drinking. Since our time at uni, we have partied across the scene in Birmingham, and donned no less than 8 different costumes in the process. We have been UV ravers, St. Trinians school girls, Greek goddesses, Australian lifeguards, Rocky Horror Show tarts, Geeks, Golfers and, after last night (15/11/10), NYPD officers - and that's not including our Halloween party attire!

We have shared birthdays, end of year parties and we even took a long-over-due girls only holiday in September of this year. We have gone through bust-ups, break-ups, rekindled romances, heartache, disappointments, celebrations and all other manner of situations - which have all become firm memories imprinted in my mind.

I know when I am old and grey, I can look back on my Uni years and think "Wow. I did all that with these great girls. How lucky was I?". So I would like to thank my lovely Women Folk for giving me some of the best years of my life. You are all part of why I feel so lucky to be Twenty-one and Invincible.

Proud to live in a multi-cultural society

Thursday nights in my life are typically known as Cheeky Thursdays, as it usually involves myself, my best friend Ray and a bucket load of wine, but last Thursday (11/11/10) I journeyed to that there Brum town to see my friend Addy and indulge in some fine food and even better conversation.

During the course of the night we set the world to rights on a number of different subjects, ending on the ever topical issue of the multi-cultural society we now live in. Both myself and Addy have encountered numerous negative viewpoints on this situation over the last few weeks, which I believe to be solely down to a great deal of ignorance on the aggressors part.

Addy has often had to defend his friends against being wrongly tied to a small minority of a certain ethnic group who choose to act in an extremest fashion, and he is constantly having to point out to those less aware than himself that in every religion or cultural group there will always be some who act on their views in a more extreme and aggressive manner than the rest of that community - constantly having to stress that you should not judge a whole religious group by those few members who use their religion as an excuse to execute violence towards those they do not agree with.

I myself have also had numerous run-ins with the ignoramus in this country, who have tried to protest that they are not racist they are simply standing up for what they believe in - at least this seems to be the motto of the gentleman who came to deliver the EDL leaflets I binned at work the other day.

I was also dragged into a somewhat heated conversation with a heavily bearded customer just this weekend, after he told me that as a student I am at the most risk of being brainwashed by the middle-class newspaper owners who claim that "the Muslims are not to be feared" - his point of course was that this in fact was not true and I should apparently fear anyone who is not as pasty as myself.

Rest assured that I corrected his stupidity by simply saying that I make my own decisions about the world we live in, and that I have actively chosen to make those he claims I should be afraid of a part of my life. As well as pointing out that I do not tolerate racism such as he was displaying in any way, shape or form - and I would not allow him to persuade me otherwise.

My conclusion on the discussion myself and Addy shared last Thursday was to say only this: There is such a thing as racism (unfortunately) and it simply stems, in my opinion, from the fear of the unknown and a lack of understanding and knowledge about anything that is not strictly native of their own country. Racists are ignorant and we should all pity them for this. We should hope that one day they may be educated enough to understand what they claim to hate so much, but until then all of the knowledgeable beings in this country should defend those who are nothing more than misunderstood by the idiots in this world, and right the wrongs of British society by doing so.

Welcome to the wonderful world of me

As you will all soon come to learn, I am a third year media and communications student at Birmingham City University.

I specialise in journalism, but also take classes in web design, design for print and have had some previous experience in PR as well.

I have come on here to do the one thing I know how to do so well, and that is write about my life, publicise my achievements and demonstrate - to those who wish to see - how a modern-day twenty-something leads her life. Buckle up and lets roll then shall we?