Cue Music

So I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’ve decided (somewhat magnanimously) to return to my child and show it some love and affection. Ergo, this blog post.

DISCLAIMER: Obviously all the names used in this aren’t people’s actual names, so please don’t be surprised; I’m just using ones that make sense to me, and maybe people who were there will be able to figure it out too, LOL.

Anyway, for the past weekend (last Friday to Monday) I spent an amazing, fun-filled, beach-filled, music-filled, laughter-filled four days at a caravan campsite in Cornwall. (What a tongue twister…) In fact, there was so much said fun that I lost my voice and am still now recovering. Although I blame W____ church for that – we were screaming ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls in their caravan and me and Yin-Yang both lost our voices. Everyone else wasn’t so unfortunate.

I’m pretty sure we spent FAR too long in W___ church’s caravan, because nearly everyday from the second day, we went and chilled in theirs and listened to music and ate food and talked. I mean, minus the fact that I forgot to add them all on Snapchat and didn’t get to see any of the videos they’d posted of us all in the caravan, it was definitely fun.

10 out of 10, would recommend.

Also, I’m pretty sure myself and my sister were two of like four of the people there who weren’t Filipinos LMAO. But I met some wonderful, talented, hilarious people (I can’t fangirl too much otherwise I might get carried away) but the majority, unfortunately, live REALLY far away. And by far I mean like, it would take them 5 – 28 minutes – depending on arm stroke length – to swim from their houses to London. (Or perhaps a bit longer than that depending on how bad the traffic is).

I got the chance to sing with some pretty cool people this weekend too, both other singers and musicians, so that was definitely one of the highlights of the week. Spaceboy’s musical prowess completely blew me away, as did Caesar’s constant willingness to join in and sing with me, for which I cannot thank him enough. (#ReadyForAnything) And Moustache’s playing of that drum-box thing and his guitar, and The Enigma’s guitar playing was also awesome and they were all so much fun to jam with. And talk history with. And reenact the assassination of Julius Caesar with.

The caravans were alright. I mean, of course they weren’t five star, but we (specifically us, because nobody else’s seemed to worked) had a banging heater. Like a proper fire stove that was really toasty and that we turned on every morning and every evening. I was scared though during some worship we had that we’d left it on, so I ran back to our caravan in the rain… only to find that it had, in fact, been switched off by the more responsible adults in our caravan, Chilli and Sunflower. Which was great because not only was my trip useless but I was also wet. Yay.

But myself and Michy-Fichy got the largest room with the double bed and the heater (LOL, you snooze, you lose!) so we had a ball in that room really. I had a sleeping bag and she had the bed sheets, and it was – for the most part – comfortable. And when the heater went on, we were all toasty in there too. Once again though, I was terrified that we would wake up to choking fumes and something nearby the heater, which happened to be flammable, on fire, so I made sure I switched it off before either of us fell asleep.

Also, one lunch time we had some huge jam sesh, where someone would literally just start playing a song on the piano and then everyone would join in. It was truly so beautiful aha, *wipes away solitary tear rolling down cheek* we did Adele, Beyonce, One Direction (bleugh), Justin Bieber, John Legend, Taylor Swift (bleugh, once again), Ed Sheeran, it was just great. Slightly dissonant at times, but I have a feeling it had more to do with the fact that the song being sung was by One Direction or Taylor Swift rather than the people singing it being inharmonious.

We also went to Cornwall beach on the Sunday, which I’m sure would have been a lot nicer if it wasn’t cold. But I had a foolproof and simple plan to stay warm and happy: Stay. Out. Of. The. Sea.

Did I stick to the plan? No.

In fact, the first thing I did when I got to the beach was strip down to my swimming costume and run into the sea.

Did I stay warm and happy? No. You know why? Because I didn’t STICK TO THE PLAN.

To be fair, the water was really clear and there were very few rocks or seaweed, so I didn’t feel like my legs were being attacked by the marine manifestation of Ursula in her hybrid human-Cephalopod form. (A little Disney/scientific classification reference there for all you fans). I also managed to get sand EVERYWHERE (that’s genuinely the one thing I hate about the beach) BUT we made a sand-mermaid, which I have to say was perhaps one of my greatest artistic feats to this day.

So not entirely bad.

It was also lovely because me and Sparkle got to bond, and we went on a long, romantic stroll down the beach and she and I walked for ages and just talked and talked. I was a bit of a psychiatrist, is that what they’re called? Therapist, psychologist, counsellor? Whatever they are, I was that for about an hour and a half. But I really love listening to her and I’m so glad that God put us both into each other’s lives.

AND – this is one of the best parts – last week when I went to Hampton Court Palace (#HistorySquadDayOut) I had a bag of Bombay Mix, but I forgot that I hadn’t finished it. So when we were at the beach and my sister whipped out a bag of half-full Bombay Mix from her snacks bag, you simply can NOT understand how fast my heart began to beat. It was one of the most beautiful moments. So I say:

The only thing more beautiful than discovering food is when you FORGET that you have food and THEN discover it.

You can quote me.

What else to say? When we left on Monday afternoon I was really sad but at least I got to sing with Spaceboy and Caesar one last time, which was really the cherry on the vegan-cake for the last day.

The theme of the camp ‘The Armour of God’ was also really nice; it gave us lots of opportunities for different activities and I know I thought about quite a lot of things differently after all of that. It was nice seeing that the people running it – the main oragniser and all the speakers – were genuinely so invested in us youth. Like they really cared; not just about what they were saying, but about each one of us as individuals. At the end of the four days, I felt really encouraged spiritually, physically, emotionally and mentally. And musically.

I’ve probably written a lot of mostly incoherent nonsense, so I’ll sign off here with a few shoutouts:

Shoutout to anyone mentioned who’s reading this…

Shoutout to ‘Las Problematiques’ and Tarq – I miss you guys…

Shoutout to the toilet lid for being down…

Shoutout to NASA for having our backs since 6000BC and creating the ozone layer…

Shoutout to my mum, for having me, which made this blog post possible…

And shoutout to my sister for being a loser and belting songs from the ‘Les Miserables’ OST all. Morning.

Goodbye everyone and lots of love

From the Faerie Squad Mother x

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Don’t You Forget About Me

Hi everybody. This is it. My new blog look.

Don’t get too scared. It’s still me. Just newer. And fresher. And more exciting – OOH this is so exciting. I feel like I’m cutting a metaphorical ribbon. (The ribbon is pink, by the way. And satin.)

It took myself and my sister all evening to come up with this. I hope you’re happy, because I certainly am. I feel that this change was necessary and embraces everything about me. The new title, ‘Oops! I Forgot To Think’ is literally me, ALL the time. Sadly. And my tagline, ‘Liberating Mankind from the Comfort of my Bedroom’ will one day be written on the t-shirts of my fans. I quite like it. I feel both parts effectively encapsulate every aspect of ‘Rianna’.

So, since I’m starting again, perhaps an introduction would be in order. Let’s draw a line under this all.


Hi. My name is Rianna. I’m 16 years old.

I’m a blogger, a History enthusiast and a writer. I’m currently writing about 4 books/short-stories (one of which is co-authored) and I fully intend to be published by the time I am 20.

I have the mental age of a 10 year-old, the emotional capability of an over-dramatic 5 year-old, and the maturity of a 3 year-old. I’m not particularly proud to admit those things, but they must be said.

I am happily married (20 years and counting!) with too many children to count. I would also very much like to get married, have a few children and become a housewife. I would also like to be a teacher, of History or English, and not only inspire children (or teens… I’m still not decided on who I want to teach) to follow their dreams, but also help them to become more socially aware. #GetWoke

I am quite dramatic. I love acting and have been in several plays. Drama is one of my A-Level subjects. Because I have very little respect for my life, I chose 4 essay-based subjects.

I’m very good at winged eyeliner. It’s one of my few skills, but one I am very proud of. My wings are always sharp and even; something which seems trivial but gives me great joy.

I wear glasses. I like to read a lot. The latter of which, taking place in dim lighting, caused the former to occur. I mostly read Historical Fiction, my favourite authors being Philippa Gregory and Conn Iggulden. I try and steer clear of cheesy and predictable Romances and Psychological Thrillers. I really can’t stand Psychological Thrillers. Or Crime Thrillers. Or just Thrillers in general.

I would like to study History at University. Studying English at A-Level has made me realise that I DON’T want to study it at Uni.

I’m not very organised. (As the order, or lack thereof, of these points about myself has probably demonstrated to you). I have quite a creative mind, though, I love my Sharpies (WHSmiths Back2School Sale 2k15), and I occasionally draw. I like to draw fancy lettering and calligraphy. I’m quite good at that too.

I’m good at baking cheesecakes. They’re literally the only things I can bake. I make a mean White Chocolate Cheesecake. I can make Lemon and Lime ones too. I’m working on other combinations.

I recently discovered that I like 80s and 90s chick flicks. (Also, please note the reference to ‘The Breakfast Club’ which I – artfully, if I may say so myself – slipped into my title).

I have an issue when people use the wrong ‘your’ and ‘you’re’. It really stresses me out. It causes me a lot of issues.

I have recently self-elected myself the Faerie Squad Mother. That is the symbolism of the image. The glasses are the exact frame I wear, and I just added some wings to connote ‘Faerie’. (Yes, I intended to spell it the ‘old’ way. ‘Fairy’ is just boring, to be entirely honest).

This post is now finished. I should probably go to sleep.

So goodnight, my lovely readers. I hope my new look doesn’t put you off. Have a wonderful day and good morning.

The Faerie Squad Mother x

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The Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award

Hello and good morning everybody. (Good afternoon and good evening to those far away!)

Today, a month and a half on from being nominated, I’m actually going to do the award thingamajig. So here goes.

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Obviously, thank you to Aimee for nominating me; and a huge apology for taking my sweet time about it LOL. Go and read her blog if you haven’t already; it’s filled with all things Disney, which is obviously fantastic for a Disney fan such as myself. But yes, she’s super cool and awesome and if you haven’t read her blog already then what are you actually doing?

Here are the rules:

  1. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their site.
  2. Put the award logo on your blog.
  3. Answer the ten questions you were given.
  4. Make up ten new questions for your nominees to answer.
  5. Nominate ten other blogs.

Because I like to talk, I’ll do the first three, but I don’t really have anyone to nominate, since I haven’t been too hot on the blogging sites recently, and I’ve barely had enough time to write my own blog let alone read other peoples. But anyways! I shall put the award logo on my blog shortly, once I have figured out how to actually do it! However, just because I love asking questions, I’m going to make up ten new questions and you can comment your answers in the comments I suppose. Would love to hear from anybody LOL. Right so my questions:

What is your go-to feel good song?

You know what, I’m not the biggest music person; the majority of music I listen to is Classical, Gospel or Disney, so I don’t have a wide range of songs, per se. Okay, I have different go-to feel good songs based on my mood. My Classical one is ‘Liebestraum’ by Lizst. I love that song so much! (Look at me, even including the links for you guys!) My Gospel one is ‘He’s Not On His Knees Yet’ by CeCe Winans; I don’t have a Disney one really because every Disney song is my feel good one. (I probably didn’t actually answer the question but AH WELL)

What book are you going to read next?

Okay, so I REALLY want to read a Spanish book called “Como Agua Para Chocolate”, which translates into “Like Water For Chocolate”. I just really want to push myself and read a book in another language. So that’s on the list. Other than that, I don’t have anything really lined up to be honest.

Bookmarks, or folding the pages?

Folding the pages. I’m so terrible, I used to use bookmarks but when they’d fall out it stressed me out. So I dog-ear. I’m ashamed to admit it. Susanna would be so disappointed in me if she heard I was still doing it. I’m sorry Sue.

Paperback, hardback or digital?

Paperback without a doubt. Hardbacks are beautiful but they’re too… rigid? And they’re not the easiest to carry around. Like when you’re going on trips and you can’t decide which book to bring so you bring all 8 of the options… you can’t bring all 8 if they’re hardbacks. Digital is very practical when you are in the aforementioned situation and have like 103 options, but it doesn’t effectively capture the essence of book-reading. Also, paperbacks you can flick and fan to smell them when they’re new. 🙂

Who is your hero? Why?

I hate this question because people always ask me this but I really don’t have one; either that or I have too many to choose from. I’m going to take liberties and assume that I can choose anyone, whether literary, fictional or dead. Argh! I really can’t think of one person. Okay, I’m going to cheat the system. Here are my heroes. Here are some more. Here are even more.

What is your dream job?

Once again, I have a few options. One dream job is to be a housewife and stay at home and raise kids as I write my life away at my laptop, and write books and blog and write journals etc. etc. Another dream job is to travel abroad to South America and to be a Human Rights Lawyer and just… lawyer… while in South America. (Because I really love the language. As in Spanish). Another dream is to go to South America and become a teacher and teach kids and be a missionary too. Yay, lots of dreams. Maybe I’ll get the chance to do more than one.

Is the glass half full, or half empty?

Half-full. I’m a very optimistic person. (Banksy, I can almost hear your outcry against the digital screen; YES I may whine at everything, but I’m always very smiley… Except when I’m in a bad mood.)

What’s your dream holiday?

Ooooooooooooooooookay, my mind is going crazy right now. My dream holiday is going to Disneyworld Florida (I can’t go to a Disneyland; after experiencing DIsneyworld, a ‘land’ simply isn’t adequate enough.) and spending like three weeks there, and just being with squad and having so much fun and lots of banter, and then going to Florida beaches and chilling in the resorts and stuff and reading next to the sea. WHOA. Can imagine it now.

If you could be trapped in a TV show for a day, which would you pick and why?

Well, I barely watch TV so I’m going to say ‘Barbie: Life In the Dreamhouse’ (let’s pretend that it’s a legit TV program) because I very much dislike Barbie, like genuinely, she is one of the fakest people I have ever seen on TV. (I know she’s plastic, but everyone else is pretty decent). She just thinks she rules everything – which you DON’T Barbara Milicent, because I am the Empress – and has everyone at her beck and call. Quite frankly, Ken could do better.

What’s your favourite colour?

What a lovely and uncomplicated question. I don’t have one, is my answer. I don’t discriminate. You know what, I don’t even see colour, because we all bleed red. (I know that wasn’t what the question was asking, I’m just trying my best to be difficult).

So that’s it from me. Here are my 10 questions that you can answer one, some or all of in my comments:

  1. If you could live in any book, which one and why?
  2. You are only allowed to read one book (or watch one TV program for those of you who have never had the pleasure of reading a book cover to cover) for the rest of your life. Which one is it?
  3. What is your favourite quote? Who said it? Why do you think they said it? What does it mean? Can you write me a ten-page essay on the meaning and context of it… I’m joking just answer the first question.
  4. Android or Apple?
  5. You have been given a time-machine and you can go back to any one era. Which one do you choose? Why? What do you do there?
  6. The item you have which holds most sentimental value for you is…?
  7. What’s your favourite movie?
  8. How strong was Henry VII’s claim to the throne? Was it weak? Was it strong? Back up your point with key evidence.
  9. Okay, ignore that last one unless you’re doing A Level History on Tudor England. If money was no object, what job would you do?
  10. You can speak one other language, other than English. Which one do you choose and why?

Strictly speaking, I realise that that was only technically 9 questions but AH well, #DisregardTheSystem right? (Also, I really like those questions, I really want to answer them myself!)

Love you all and have fun today/tonight,

Empress Rianna

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Being The Minority

So the past couple of days have been an interesting experience to say the least. But let me not get ahead of myself.

Good morning/afternoon/evening (wherever you all are), this is the first time I am addressing you as a 16-year old Empress! How fantastic!

Anyways, now we’re done with that. So my family and I had a bit of a holiday this week; we didn’t go abroad, just to a small village, which I cannot name for obvious reasons which you will later discover. We stayed in a hotel, about a 5-minute drive away from the village centre (as in, probably their equivalent of a high-street or whatever) and so on the Monday afternoon, we get there and we check-in. Once we put all our cases and everything in our rooms, we go back downstairs so we can have dinner.

That was the first alarm bell. (We didn’t know it yet, but it slowly dawned on us). On the way through the lounge to the Restaurant, we got a lot of awfully odd looks; people were double-taking, some people were staring, and lots of people were doing that awkward ‘I’m-staring-but-if-you-look-at-me-I’ll-keep-eye-contact-for-about-5-more-seconds-until-it-becomes-uncomfortable-and-then-look-away-just-to-make-sure-you-saw-me-looking-at-you’ sorta thing. So naturally, as a family that is mostly unfazed, we ignore them.

We went back to our rooms after and got ready for bed. (Although myself and my little sister – who I have now decided to crown Princess – stayed up so she could post my birthday tribute on Instagram at midnight… and then I COULDN’T sleep because I was absolutely stunned by the intensity of raw beauty my friend posted of me also… But at any rate, we got to bed pretty late)

Then we woke up and went downstairs to have breakfast. That was the second alarm bell. The seating staff dude for the morning looked up at us from the desk and seemed a little startled. After he led us to the table, we all split to go and get our food, and more alarm bells started ringing. (Not literally, that’d be a little bit scary). People kept staring, we got even more weird looks, one guy was double-taking so much I’m pretty sure he got a headache.

By this point, I was pretty sick of all the looks, so whenever people looked at me, I’d give them the sickliest-sweet smile I could conjure up. And then they would blush embarrassed and turn away.

I thought it might get better, but NO. It only got worse.

Later in the day, we went into the village centre, to get some food and to just stroll around and explore, seeing as we were in this lovely, quaint little village and it was my birthday and it was like, well why not?

I’ll tell you why not.

Because it was like we were wild, exotic animals walking through a zoo of spectators. My sister, the Princess, and I stopped at a window-front display, and she looked at this teddy-bear she liked, and went, “Oh wow, Rianna look at how cute that is!” Then I heard a gasp.

‘How strange!’ I thought to myself. ‘Teyah doesn’t usually gasp…’ So I turned to her to ask her if she had gasped, and her face mirrored my expression of confusion. Which in itself answered my question. No she had not gasped.

In fact, the woman who HAD gasped was about 5 steps away from us, walking briskly down the road, and kept looking back over her shoulder at us with these wide-eyes. We couldn’t stop laughing.

Later, my mum and dad told me that they had had a similar experience; they were walking down the road and three little children in a car had pointed out the window at them in excitement – then their mother had also joined in with them.

What started off as irritating slowly became funny. We were walking to Tesco’s and two teenagers, a guy and a girl, came out of a shop; teenagers who looked like the ones, whom, in London, I would ordinarily avoid – just move out of the way for. They looked pretty intimidating. But they gave me one glance, and it was like their faces were streaked with terror, and the BOY, this intimidating looking boy, actually ended up in the road on an effort to move out of my way on the pavement.

Every shop we went into (because the shop’s were pretty tiny) the shopkeeper’s eyes would LITERALLY follow us around the whole way. When we bought stuff in Tesco’s and went to the self-checkout till, nearly every other shopper’s eyes watched us.

It was so strange.

But that wasn’t even the HIGHLIGHT of it all.

Because not only were we treated like an exhibition, we simultaneously got treated like we were invisible.

The final evening we were there, Wednesday evening, when we went down to dinner, we sat in a relatively accessible place. Like, there were quite a lot of other people sitting nearby. We had the staring spectacle of course (but what else could be expected at this point?) from a girl and her brothers? cousins? who all looked around our age.

But then – and this was the BEST part of all – a family, or perhaps a bunch of friends, came to sit near to us. They sat on the table next to us and ensued in very loud conversation. [Conversation which, if anything, only reinforced the fact that they were racist.]

The man, I assumed, was talking about his daughter. He looked about 60, with greying hair, and was talking animatedly about this woman; I figured it was his daughter or his wife, but it was more likely the former. Anyway, my mum and I only managed to jump into the conversation at the part where he started talking about her travelling and all her journeys around the world.

“And yes, one year she decided to go to India.” (It seemed that she was working abroad a lot, I think it was for her job as she was working for a bank or something? From what I gathered anyway…) “She said that her experience there was very interesting but,” at this point, he leaned in as if confiding a secret, “the only trouble was the flight… because of…” he paused for effect, chuckled, taking a sip from his long-stemmed glass of wine, “well, the Hindus.” At which point they all burst out into unabridged, racist crooning at his entirely UNFUNNY and OFFENSIVE joke. I mean, let’s just forget for a moment that what he said was offensive, basically saying the flight wasn’t enjoyable because of the Indian passengers on it, he is also assuming that EVERY INDIAN IS HINDU. Which they are not.

My mum and I looked at each other with wide open mouths. We were actually stunned that anyone could say that. But it got even better when he continued.

“She loves travelling abroad, but there’s always a language barrier for her. She can’t adjust well to the culture.” All things which suggested, my mum jokingly informed me, that perhaps she should stop travelling, because clearly if ‘Hindus’ were an issue on the plane flight, then how would she expect to fare in an entire country FULL of them?! “She could practically COUNT the number of British” (by British, he meant white) “people who were there as well!”

Boo hoo. I thought. That’s my life all the time. That’s my life RIGHT now. Wherever we go places, we can COUNT on one hand the number of black people. Why are you suddenly surprised by this? Oh that’s right; because except from when you travel, (and even then, it depends on where you go) you’re NEVER in the minority. I live my LIFE in the minority.

He went on.

“But when she came to England to work, she found it so much more enjoyable.” Of course she would, my mum added, surrounded in her own culture. “And her work was based in [location], which was great because she didn’t have to commute so much from where she stayed in [location]. She had a lovely little studio flat and a fantastic view.”

“But then they [her company business] relocated to Canary Wharf, and it became an absolute NIGHTMARE for her to commute.”

Oh no! My mum and I crooned. How hard it must be when your business relocates to the central hub of business in London (and also the world) and you have to TRAVEL in on public transport! Oh no! Such #FirstWorldProblems! All the people he was talking to sympathetically ‘awwwwwww’d and he nodded with a face of such sincerity that me and my mum started laughing again.

“So, is she permanently employed then?” One of the women sitting with him directed the question at him. He shook his head with such conviction.

“No, not really. She is partially on the work force, but if they start chopping jobs and sacking people, then she could lose her job.” At which point, I had to shake MY head sympathetically.

I’ve got two words for you, Mr. Racist Wine-Drinker: White. Privilege.

Your daughter would not be one of the first to be unemployed, especially considering the fact that she is the one constantly travelling the world for her company (she also went to Singapore, some countries in Europe, and has been to Australia so much that she has a flat out there) and not to mention the fact that you CLEARLY come from old-money; so regardless of whether she is kept or sacked (and most likely, the FORMER), she has pretty much worked her life away for this company (he never mentioned any partner, or kids of hers) so she is sitting pretty for the rest of her life.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I present to you, the plight of a black family in a small village in England. That was the reason we got so many stares from people. Because we were perhaps the only black people that some of them had ever seen. That was why we got gasped at, and pointed at, and stared at, and talked about, and ignored, and watched, and followed.

Because we were black. Now, if you know me, I totally hate using the race card, but this is one situation where it actually does apply.

The small-mindedness and ignorance (and in some situations, racism) of these people actually astounded me. I mean, I’m not stupid, I know racism exists – I live my life at the receiving end of it – but I didn’t realise how condensed it was in certain areas, and how concentrated those areas were.

But that’s my little rant for this morning. A bit early for me but, ah well. Have a good morning/afternoon/evening everyone,

Empress Rianna

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