Seriously?

So, as everyone should know, recently BlackBerry has been, shall we say squashed (see what I did there?) by a mountain of complaints as BBM and BIS hasn't been functioning. My opinion on the outcry: seriously?

At the risk of sounding righteous; does it really matter if your phone is not working for a little bit?

I have been the owner to many a type of phone, due to muy bad luck with the bloody things. But I am not a BB owner. Which is probably why I don't understand the mass increase in teenage depression.

I understand that when something doesn't work the way it's supposed to, it's super frustrating. But I think you have to know when you're an addict. For example, I am a self-confessed Facebook addict. I think it's good training for my future career as a professional stalker. But I also know that I can handle not being online for a few days. I will be fine.

As I spend my day walking around varsity, glancing at young people rocking back and forth and muttering to themselves because they have nothing to 'lol' at, I wonder about what is really important. I take it as a lesson in priorities, that maybe it's a good idea to stop exercising your thumbs and start exercising your heart and mind to engage with your environment and the people around you.

Because people are better than BlackBerries: they won't stop receiving and sending messages when you need them most.

Coldplay

Wow. Last night, Coldplay played at the FNB Stadium here in Johannesburg. It was MIND-BLOWING. I can't imagine a better concert and I'm glad that I was able to experience such an amazing event, with my equally-amazing boyfriend.

But, first things first: The Parlotones. A lot of people don't enjoy their music (mostly because of Khan's unusual voice). But I, on the other hand, think they are extremely talented. And while they are not everyone's cup of tea, they have really great stage presence. It's also apt that they were the opening band as they are home-grown Joburgers. They're just tons of fun, even if you can only listen to one song of theirs at a time. I'm proud that South Africa can show off their talent through bands like them. They're obviously doing something right. And let those who have a globally recognised band cast the first stone.

And now for the main event. I spent the concert jamming, listening, snapping photos, staring at the gorgeous Chris Martin, but also coping down the songs they performed! So here it is, the Coldplay Johannesburg 2011 Setlist:

Hurts Like Heaven (second track from their upcoming album, Mylo Xyloto. Had to copy down the lyrics I could make out and Google!)
Yellow
In My Place
Major Minus (eight track from Mylo Xyloto)
Lost!
The Scientist
Shiver
Violet Hill
God Put A Smile Upon Your Face
Paradise (third track and second single from Mylo Xyloto)
The Hardest Part
Till Kingdom Come
Politik
Viva La Vida
Charlie Brown (forth track from MX. Again, copy down lyrics furiously and Google)
Life Is For Living

Encore:
Clocks
Fix You (with intro from Amy Winehouse's Rehab)
Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall (seventh track and first single from MX)

So, tons of incredible songs. I guess when you see a band as spectacular as Coldplay, they're bound to miss some songs you wanted to hear, like Green Eyes, Warning Sign, Life In Technicolour and Strawberry Swing. But my word, their new songs! I cannot wait for the album! I hadn't heard Hurts Like Heaven or Charlie Brown yet; I really enjoyed Charlie Brown, very catchy. The other new songs I had heard but everyone who went knows that hearing Coldplay do a song is not the same as seeing them perform it.

A special mention for the songs would have to be Paradise. I'm not going to say it's my favourite (it's not possible to pick a single favourite song) but what made it special is that Coldplay decided to record it for their music video. So, technically, I'm in Coldplay's new music video! Plus, they put on elephant masks which was really cool. Chris joked that if we remember anything from the concert, he hopes it's not that part because of the funny costumes. So, naturally, it's what I remember.

It was very visually capturing. There were fireworks, tons of lights, beach balls, oversized balloons and (my personal favourite) paper Ms and Xs floating down from the ceiling. The videos they used on the big screens made it really easy to take amazing photos and allowed the face of sexy Chris Martin to be seen at all times, even though we were drowning in a sea of people.

Something to remember on the visual side of things would be Chris leading the crowd in a Mexican wave of cellphone lights all around the stadium three times. It was beautiful, like little twinkling stars. It added immensely to the magical atmosphere.

But I can only say so much; you had to be there. All-in-all, a special night that I will always remember.

Blissful Badger

So, one of the first things to know about me: I'm a 'PotterHead'.

I know, I know, I'm that person who will sprout random references to that globally beloved piece of literature when the people around me might not give a Hippogriff's ass. I think part of the appeal of Harry Potter for me is that for a long time, I wasn't allowed to read the books. My mom, bless her, is really conservative and maintained the assumption that the books are evil as they 'glorified witchcraft'. I, however, resented her for not giving me the freedom to form my own opinion.

So, when I finally got to my public high school, I spent a year plucking up the courage to take Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone out of my school library. At the age of 14, ten years after the publication of the book, I left the library with the book hidden safely in my bag. I was terrified. I have a very open relationship with my mom but I knew she would disapprove. And I was ashamed that her disapproval was not enough to quell my curiosity.

I read the book in two days. I was hooked. It was such an inspirational story for me. I felt as if I had been friends with the famous trio my whole life. I spent the rest of my high school years reading and watching, waiting for the next book or movie, falling in love with Rowling's creation. I cried after the last book; I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was done, no more Harry Potter.

All that being said, Pottermore has now been released. After suffering mass depression after the end of the seventh movie, I was really excited when I heard about the Pottermore plan. I signed up for early registration and I received my acceptance email on 26 September. The things I was most excited about are obvious: my wand and my House. With a few short questions, I knew both. My wand is Dogwood with Unicorn core, twelve and a quarter inches and slightly springy. I am happy with this. My House on the other hand... I was placed in Hufflepuff.

I was distraught. I know I sound seriously emotional, but I felt like I should be in tears. Just as Harry had thought, "Not Slytherin, not Slytherin..." all I thought while waiting for my House was, "Not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff..." And yet, there it was. Yellow and black colouring my screen. I haughtily read the welcome message:

Congratulations! I’m Prefect Gabriel Truman, and I’m delighted to welcome you to HUFFLEPUFF HOUSE. Our emblem is the badger, an animal that is often underestimated, because it lives quietly until attacked, but which, when provoked, can fight off animals much larger than itself, including wolves. Our house colours are yellow and black, and our common room lies one floor below the ground, on the same corridor as the kitchens.

Now, there are a few things you should know about Hufflepuff house. First of all, let’s deal with a perennial myth about the place, which is that we’re the least clever house. WRONG. Hufflepuff is certainly the least boastful house, but we’ve produced just as many brilliant witches and wizards as any other. Want proof? Look up Grogan Stump, one of the most popular Ministers for Magic of all time. He was a Hufflepuff – as were the successful Ministers Artemesia Lufkin and Dugald McPhail. Then there’s the world authority on magical creatures, Newt Scamander; Bridget Wenlock, the famous thirteenth-century Arithmancer who first discovered the magical properties of the number seven, and Hengist of Woodcroft, who founded the all-wizarding village of Hogsmeade, which lies very near Hogwarts School. Hufflepuffs all.

So, as you can see, we’ve produced more than our fair share of powerful, brilliant and daring witches and wizards, but, just because we don’t shout about it, we don’t get the credit we deserve. Ravenclaws, in particular, assume that any outstanding achiever must have come from their house. I got into big trouble during my third year for duelling a Ravenclaw prefect who insisted that Bridget Wenlock had come from his house, not mine. I should have got a week of detentions, but Professor Sprout let me off with a warning and a box of coconut ice.

Hufflepuffs are trustworthy and loyal. We don’t shoot our mouths off, but cross us at your peril; like our emblem, the badger, we will protect ourselves, our friends and our families against all-comers. Nobody intimidates us.

However, it’s true that Hufflepuff is a bit lacking in one area. We’ve produced the fewest Dark wizards of any house in this school. Of course, you’d expect Slytherin to churn out evil-doers, seeing as they’ve never heard of fair play and prefer cheating over hard work any day, but even Gryffindor (the house we get on best with) has produced a few dodgy characters.

What else do you need to know? Oh yes, the entrance to the common room is concealed in a stack of large barrels in a nook on the right hand side of the kitchen corridor. Tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’, and the lid will swing open. We are the only house at Hogwarts that also has a repelling device for would-be intruders. If the wrong lid is tapped, or if the rhythm of the tapping is wrong, the illegal entrant is doused in vinegar.

You will hear other houses boast of their security arrangements, but it so happens that in more than a thousand years, the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories have never been seen by outsiders. Like badgers, we know exactly how to lie low – and how to defend ourselves.

Once you’ve opened the barrel, crawl inside and along the passageway behind it, and you will emerge into the cosiest common room of them all. It is round and earthy and low-ceilinged; it always feels sunny, and its circular windows have a view of rippling grass and dandelions.

There is a lot of burnished copper about the place, and many plants, which either hang from the ceiling or sit on the windowsills. Our Head of house, Professor Pomona Sprout, is Head of Herbology, and she brings the most interesting specimens (some of which dance and talk) to decorate our room – one reason why Hufflepuffs are often very good at Herbology. Our overstuffed sofas and chairs are upholstered in yellow and black, and our dormitories are reached through round doors in the walls of the common room. Copper lamps cast a warm light over our four-posters, all of which are covered in patchwork quilts, and copper bed warmers hang on the walls, should you have cold feet.

Our house ghost is the friendliest of them all: the Fat Friar. You’ll recognise him easily enough; he’s plump and wears monk’s robes, and he’s very helpful if you get lost or are in any kind of trouble.

I think that’s nearly everything. I must say, I hope some of you are good Quidditch players. Hufflepuff hasn’t done as well as I’d like in the Quidditch tournament lately.

You should sleep comfortably. We’re protected from storms and wind down in our dormitories; we never have the disturbed nights those in the towers sometimes experience.

And once again: congratulations on becoming a member of the friendliest, most decent and most tenacious house of them all.

I didn't want to believe it, but I saw some of myself in this message. Don't get me wrong, I understand that these kinds of things are relevant to almost everyone. But here's why it's relevant to me:

Firstly, I'm not the brightest Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean in the jar. So that means Hufflepuff is suited to me. I'm not being down on myself or anything, I just acknowledge that I'm more hard-working than naturally clever. Which is fine with me; all the more satisfaction when I get high marks for the sole reason that I earned them.

While none of the most notable characters are in Hufflepuff, after some research I discovered that Nymphadora Tonks was a Hufflepuff. This makes my opinion of Hufflepuffs far more positive. I've always liked Tonks; with her shape-shifting ways, bubblegum-pink hair and sassy attitude. While she is really quirky, she's also a misfit which means I obviously relate to her (stupid teenage cliches). So if Tonks could be a Hufflepuff, it can't be that bad.

I like the part about being 'trustworthy and loyal'. I think those qualities apply to me and I know I will always protect my loved ones against anyone. I enjoy helping my friends whenever I can, even when it disadvantages me. If that makes me unimportant, so be it. Rather caring than an unfeeling Ravenclaw or an evil Slytherin!

I don't think I could be a Dark Wizard. I just cannot imagine hurting people for self-gain. I think that's a cowardly approach to life and the reason for a lot of violence in the world. I never want to be driven by greed. I would rather be average than immoral. Plus, I'm not very scary.

If Hufflepuff is the friendliest House, it's the one for me. I love making friends; half the people I meet think I belong in St Mungo's but that doesn't matter to me. As long as I get to hug at least five people everyday, things will be okay.

To be honest, I've only ever known the word 'tenacious' in the band Tenacious D. But I looked it up (to be sure):

te·na·cious

adjective /təˈnāSHəs/ 

Tending to keep a firm hold of something; clinging or adhering closely
• - a tenacious grip


Not readily relinquishing a position, principle, or course of action; determined
• - you're tenacious and you get at the truth
• - the most tenacious politician


Persisting in existence; not easily dispelled
• - a tenacious local legend

So, tenacious equals determined. Sort of. Darn nuances. Anyway, my drama teacher in primary school always used to say, "Oh, Kristen's great at acting. Only when she wants to though." When I want to do something, you better believe that it's going to be done. It's this kind of attitude that saved me from drowning myself due to Maths in high school. Which is why I remained determined in the thought that there is no way I could be a Hufflepuff.

So, if you're still awake, the main point I'm getting at is that it takes a lot of courage to be honest with yourself. Before I thought about it, I would gladly hide behind the Gryffindor mask of bravery or Ravenclaw intelligence or Slytherin asshole-ness. But the truth is, that's not how life is. If you're a misfit Hufflepuff, that's what you are. As long as you can admit it. So now I'm a proud badger; silly, friendly, weird, hard-working, loyal and determined.

Thus, I close with the words of the Sorting Hat:

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,
And unafraid of toil.

This Is Just A Tribute

On 4 March 2005, a drunk driver went through a red robot and killed my father, grandmother and grandfather. Guess you can say that was the worst night of my life. If you've ever wondered what Alice feels like, try imagining waking up in a world where half of your family is all of a sudden nonexistent. Gone forever. Irrecoverable. It's something I would not wish upon anyone.

After a couple of years one starts to become normal again. Your grades improve, you make friends, you learn new things; time doesn't stop as it should. My life would be a lot different if this 'accident' hadn't happened. I have come to terms with that. Or I thought I had.

Today would have been my dad's 51st birthday. Usually, I'm not overly sad or anything on this day. But today, my word. I did not want to get out of bed, I was a pain to be around all day, I practically felt continuously on the edge of tears. The one thought on a loop in my head was, 'Daddy should be here.' And that was selfish. But it was my way of mourning. The problem with mourning is there's no rule to it, there's no norm to how long you can be depressed and irritate those around you (my poor boyfriend). I didn't want to be happy.

But this evening, while thinking over the day, I realized that I'm not really looking at the bigger picture. I could go into broader terms, mentioning all the other families who have been broken apart by drunk drivers and all that. What I thought of instead was my mom, who lost her parents and husband in a flash. That's when I discover I'm not hurting as much, it's not as bad. And, to top it off, Mom handled this day with a much better attitude than me. She celebrated our blessing. Which is why my mom's the bravest person in the world.

So here's to Roderick Clive Bishop. A man of patience and wisdom. Quiet and gentle. The guy that fell asleep watching TV, with me next to him. The cyclist. The bird-watcher. The audience to my show. The father that I never got to truly know, the father that will never get to walk me down the aisle. The son who phoned his mother in ecstatic hysterics, saying, "It's a girl, it's a girl!" The man who treated my mom like absolute gold.

I love you forever Dad.

Shane Hawley's 'Love You'

Just something to share - this poem really spoke to me.

Be patient
Because I love you a lot
But I want to love you
Like the weight of a freight train crashing into your chest
Like a slow motion sunrise on rewind
Like the Valentine’s time bomb that I mailed to your address
I want to love you like spam
So mushy that it’s gross yeah
I wanna love you like that

I wanna love you like Spiderman
All sticky and clingy and shit
And like Batman, all hardcore and repressed
And like Wolveriene
Which I should not have to spell out for your people
And I wanna love ya gently
Like ducks

I wanna love ya like water is wet
Like martinis are dry
Like when limbos get low
And when skaters get high yeah
I wanna love ya like that

I wanna love ya like anything in Old English
Amazing but impossible to understand
I wanna love you til it freaks you out
Like the church of Scientology or Michael Jackson’s face

I wanna love ya hard like calculus
Easy like cheerleaders
Soft like chinchillas
And sensitive like hair triggers

I wanna love like when the heavens open up
And the stars start to dance on a pitch black tapestry
And the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie

I wanna love ya
Like the abominable snowman loves his little bunny rabbit
Like Mr. T loves gold chains and pitying fools

I wanna love ya like dogs love Frisbees
Like Pyramus loves Thisbee
Like Santa Claus does chimneys
And like my dad loves whiskey
Yeah, I wanna love you like that

I wanna love ya gorgeous like a beauty queen
Psycho like a drama queen
And fabulous like a drag queen yeah
I wanna love ya like that

I wanna love ya like the one couple in this room who had really great sex last night
Mixed
With the one couple in this room who fell asleep in front of the TV last night
So that for the rest of our lives
During every commercial break
We go at it like animals
I wanna love ya like that

I wanna love ya like Christina Agulierra is dirty
Like Eminem is white
Like Carson Daily is lame
And like Katy Perry sucks
Or at least how I imagine she sucks

I wanna love you like Tom Cruise
All types of crazy baby
I wanna love ya like Jessica Simpson
Hot
And really slow yeah
I wanna love ya like that

I wanna love ya like bears give hugs
Like wind-chimes slow dance
Like raindrops kiss foreheads
And like hands read braille

I wanna love you broken like morse code
Humble like pie
Always like taxes
And perfect
Like the distance from your eyelashes to my glasses

I wanna love ya like driving in a Minnesota winter
A little scary because its impossible to stop so be patient
Because I love you a lot
But one day I’m gonna love ya like that

Me

Hello vast world of strangers and friends. I guess if I expect maybe one person to be interested in what I have to say, I should start by giving a short introduction to myself:

I'm Kris.
Yes, I'm a girl.
God's child (hence 'King's Bishop', so clever).
I'm 19, and dreading my 20s. I like being a teenager.
I live in the beautiful country of South Africa but long to travel.
I'm an English and History student (which is sometimes hard for me to believe).

I am writing this blog for the obscure desire to share little bits of my life. Don't quite get it, but hey. I think due to a bit of a dry patch of creativity, I'm trying to prove to myself that I can write. Even if I don't write well.

So here goes...