In light of the First Class Honours i’ma be graduating with this year POW POW,
what other firsts has 2016 brought about for princeslay?
In light of the First Class Honours i’ma be graduating with this year POW POW,
what other firsts has 2016 brought about for princeslay?
I’m making a minor escape from the academic shitty cesspit in my head dedicated to my third year at Uni to bring something quite personal to my blog that I’d now like to share.
So a lovely lad from Buzzfeed asked me along with a few others to write our experiences with ‘coming out’ for National Coming Out Day which coincided with Black History Month, 2015.
I initially posted on my Facebook to many who had no idea, but now I’d like to share the article further.
The whole thing is very endearing and brave.
BuZzfeed Article for Black History Month
Have a read – im in there x
I wanna take a quick minute to talk about my degree. You see I don’t think Brit’ students , more specifically the younger ones, could really give two shits about what they’re studying.
You might think i’m stating the obvious there, or that i’m making a pretty broad generalization. But my point is, I was on the tube today and I had a sudden stroke of fear. Fear of finishing ‘Pooni Uni’ as I’ve now come to call it.
Not because of all that find a job, my life has no meaning bollocks (that’ll come next Summer), but because i’m absolutely like a total lover of learning.
I am, in fact, a keen fucking bean.
University, all though in no way worth 45Gizzles (pretend money of course), has opened up my eyes. I’m more aware of my capabilities, and of endless possibilities. I’ve been given the opportunity to dream again.
Don’t get me wrong, yes I have one or two fab acting credentials already under my belt but in a way they were my introduction into higher learning. Plus auditioning can become so tedious and dampening sometimes.
My beautifully ambiguous, creatively challenging BA in Media and Cultural Studies has taught me that I can do so many things, be so many things and see so many things – I just need to believe in myself and albeit work a little harder.
I feel like these are only things I would have appreciated as an older student. I feel that many of the people at my University have fallen out of love with learning. Maybe it’s just become so second nature to us that we abuse our right to education in this country.
Or maybe like my friend Sam said ‘we’re all just here for the degree, there’s no thirst for knowledge.’
Upon finding out today that my baby cousin got killer Alevels, I was reminded of a exhibition I saw last week at the Camden Roundhouse.
Penny Woodcock has teamed up with Block 9 (they’re responsible for that mad crazy club stage whatever thing at glasto) to create a huge installation in the Camden Roundhouse’ main studio called Utopia, with themes based loosely on the book by Thomas More.
Woodcock has basically spent the last 2 years walking Camden and its surrounding areas collecting stories from its locals.
‘There isn’t time or space to pay attention to the journey of another person; unless it’s a celebrity’ – Reuben
This struck me because it’s so true. Celebrity has taken over even the deepest places of our minds. Not necessarily just the famous, but our own quest for celebrity. Our own dark obsessive nature over how we are recognised by others.
Penny deals with these issues but also delves into the issues that arise within the different stories.
My brilliant fresh minded 18 year old cousin Lauren and her Alevel results brought me back to Utopia because Lauren got 2 As for history, an A & a B for sociology, and a D for health and social care. In one of Utopia’s stories a young man tells of his struggle for teachers to give him the opportunity to excel whilst he was at school. Told because he was in lower sets he’d never be able to do his Alevels, he’d have to do Health and Social Care.
Ofcourse there’s nothing wrong with Health and Social care, but to force it on someone as a means to spend as little time on them as possible is the issue here. I was happy with Lauren’s D. Because that D represents a new generation of young black women who come from the inner city schools of London who won’t allow there lives to be dictated by people who have made no effort to get to know them.
With the growing issue of jobs going to the upper classes and not those most qualified no matter their background, I’m surprised these kids even find the motivation to carry on fighting. I know I struggle with it.
Another girl tells the story of her transition from Uni into the real world. This constant fight to stand out amongst this forever flowing emergence of new artists, new talent.
Her facebook feed full of friends getting their dreams jobs whilst she trails behind, obsessed with her image, sleeping around to give her life meaning. Your 20s can be tough and social network only takes that pain and mother fucking multiplies it. We are all so self absorbed now and so unaware of what is important. I don’t have a clue.
But Utopia will tell you, as will my baby cousin…
‘There’s more to life then trainers’
Utopia is only on until the 23rd, it’s not one to miss.
Thank you Buzzfeed. I was getting a ridiculous amount of views on my blog, and me being the anxious maniac that I am assumed it was because some ex boyfriend had put out a bum shot of me on the net.
Safe to say that hasn’t occurred. Actually…Buzzfeed decided to do a Skins Cast – Then & Now?
‘Laya has been in a few short films, including Beverly and The Line. She also has a blog.’
In bed, listening to The Cranberries, thinking about why i’m awake, and why I don’t have food at arms reach.
Auditioning my little heart out with hopes of continuing to do the job I love so much. A job that’s like a drug, chipping away at you, but you just gotta get another hit and everything will be cool.
Working in a bar in Shoreditch, getting wasted all too much and treating London as my giant playground before September drops and I enter my 3rd year of Uni. Hmph.
Trying to blog more and not get drunk.
Not thinking about when my little bubble of Uni safety bursts and I am once again over come with the urge to run away and get lost in some distant part of the world. Like Ecuador.
Ill make jewellery. Yes.
Not comparing myself to every other member of the three different Skins casts. (Lie)
Enjoying my adult adolescence, making bad decisions.
Not getting paranoid about what my face will actually look like in 20 years time? Or how babies actually learn to speak? Gahh.
Convincing myself i’m not studying just to ‘get a degree’…higher education is enjoyable. It is.
It actually is though, i’m definitely better at pub quizzes since I became a student.
Attempting to keep my shit together and be an adult…like buying a lip balm and actually finishing it. I think that’s when I’ll know i’m an adult. Or when I actually reach the expiry date on my bank card…instead of loosing it min’ 3 times a year.
So I find that i’m constantly surrounded by friends messaging away on their phones…not messaging other friends, but messaging possible sexUAL conquests. All via these fucking dating apps that are becoming more and more prominent within our lives with every single day that goes by and every newbie that signs up.
Now don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of friends who are now in stellar relationships because of the likes of Tinder, Happn, Plenty of fish or whatever, but my question; is romance dead?
Im not saying that these first dates can’t be romantic, but I feel like a huge element of the romance has already been chipped the hell away, you know since I’ve just sat here wading through guys on the internet like they’re a shitting current and all I’m trying to do is swim up stream. In simpler terms – no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no – oh shit he was really fit and I clicked noooooo…he could have been the ONE – oh well, better crack on otherwise I’m still gunna die alone, no, no. no, no, no, no, no, no.
That’s the average Tinder sesh for me.
On finally reaching a YES, and alas, a match…I then become obsessive until eventually I have to un-match this guy because he blatantly thinks i’m a psychopath.
I think it’s sad that so many of us firstly can’t be alone like maybe we used to. Especially in our 20’s. Gone are the days of waking up in the morning and being happy to see you! And doting on yourself. And enjoying some quality me time without feeling like those precious moments should actually be taken up by scanning the web for the next moderately attractive beef cake you can find.
I get it. My generation is one based on success. Everyone is out to make it, every industry is 1000 times more competitive and there are 1000 more industries. Where does one find the time to meet anyone? Even if you had the time, where? When? What would you say? What if you get pied in the face?
Jesus christ what are our kids gunna be like if we’re already this socially inept. Its tragic really.
I mean when was the last time a guy n a gal met at a glance, in a bar, over a damn good dry martini, and talked for hours…
When was the last time that a guy jumped from a moving train, chased this dame down the platform, just to let her know that she was Gods fucking gift.
The last time a guy chased me down the road, it was this hood rat and all his little cronies in camden, and he insisted on sprinting after me shouting COOKIE DOUGH COOKIE DOUGH (because of my caramel complexion obz) – fucking moron right, but at least he had balls. Or just a throbbing ego…
Yet still if a month goes by that I haven’t been ‘on it’ with my dating game…I feel its my fault I don’t have a BF. If only I was more committed to these dating apps you know? If only I tried harder, put more time in. WAIT WHAT!? What kind of bs is that.
Put your phone down. Buy a new book, something that vaguely resembles Eat Pray Love for context and general guideline (or Trainspotting depending on your mood), sit in a fucking tasty curry house with a dosa and some chutney, get a tall beer…and enjoy you. Because if you can’t enjoy you, why would anyone else eh?
So i’ve just celebrated my 23rd birthday. Obviously I haven’t written a post for like a trillion years and I can’t lie, I’ve been busy, but my time off has also amounted to sheer laziness – its been fab! So Summer is upon us, and Ive just touched down on a flight back from Barcelona, a city I feel I’ve left a tiny piece of my soul…and a whole lotta dignity.
The first day was pretty manic. On arriving, my BFF and I found ourselves standing gobsmacked in the Barcelona marina whilst 20+ police riot vans and biker fedz sped in and out of pedestrians as they chased down over 100 illegal immigrants who had just reached the harbour. I was completely lost for words. Standing there like an absolute idiot. It was disturbing to say the least, seeing it happen, not through the safety net of my Guardian phone app.
Then like that it was over. We talked about it for about 10 minutes, and before I knew we were back onto the mundane things like which beach bar we should check out first, or which bikini am I gunna wear tomorrow.
The world can be shit.
Still the holiday continued as normal. Until about 4 hours later, just as the clock chimed midnight and my birthday was upon us…and my phone got stolen.
Some cute as hell gay guys come over to me on La Rambla, WHERE EVERYONE WARNS YOU PEOPLE WILL STEAL YOUR SHIT DUHHH, and start dancing with me pretending to be club promoters. I get twirled around like a little wide grinned princess, five minutes later,
‘Oh no Rich, I think those guys stole my phone. FUCK.’
Classic, day one in Barcelona.
The coming days weren’t quite as colourful as the first, and to be fair I drank so many of those 1 litre pints that it all just sort of blurred into one big mess. I did a lot, the obvious like Park Güell etc, but I kinda don’t remember most it. Instead I’ve come up with a list of my favourite naughty bits (that I do remember) –
Favourite restaurant – Ocaña. If you stay on La Rambla, or you find yourself on it – which at some point you will because its sort of the epicentre of Barca, check out Plaça Reil Square. We found the most amazing restaurant/tapas bar there. On arrival you’re greeted by two of the most TRANzfabulous women dressed to the absolute nines. One woman had on a pvc leotard with this fucking fantastic tutu, with a birdcage atop her magnificently made up head…the cage had a crow in it also – how FABBBBB. The food was great, the service mehh but who gives a fuck with a restaurant that cool. Staff were lovely, cocktails were flowing, and it’s made known that you’re there to eat, drink and be FILTHYGORGEOUSSS.
Favourite Bar –La Penúltima. It’s a little bit cute, a little bit too cool and a little bit kitsch. Obviously that means I loved it. A tiny bar with a lot of character and one of the few places full of people before midnight.
Favourite ‘is this a bar or is the a club’ – Museum. Give me a room full of screens that are all playing Britney’s ‘Work B**ch’ and i’m so down.
Favourite club – Metro. For a few reasons, the first being I had another favourite club but I can’t remember the name. Second, I love a club with a dark room. Ha, you won’t find me in it, but I enjoy knowing it’s there.
All of these, except the restaurant, are Gay. My BBF Rich who I went with is Gay, so I experienced the ‘fag hag’ side of the city, and of course it was marvellous. I would like to go again though, there are some amazing secret cocktail bars (I think I went to one Papillon – opens at 3am and you have to knock on a big metal door before they let you in) and live music joints. Sexy spanish men and their sexy guitars. Another time perhaps.
What an amazing city though, I made some great friends and I truly could have stayed forever.