Watch me smile.

My photo
I'm little, red headed mess, more hair than mass or sense. All I really want to do is make something magical and show the world and have it be proud of me.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009


what can I say?
Well, my name is Natalie. i like to dance to the saturdays but i dont like them but i do quite hate that little howdy bit "i think i like it" so much that i actually love the song and just sing over and over "i think i like it, i think i like it, i think i like it etc. its the same with the first "you" in red jeans by tm-n and kimberly singing "theres only one way up and one way down i know" etc. i also like the word etcetera because i used to love the film the king and i and i am pretty sure that either the king or the i says etcetera at some point. when i see things that i find beautiful i take pictures of them to put in my scrap book even though i cant find my usb to my phone anywhere. i love playing the stylophone in vibrato. I'm pretty sure that I can play 5 Colours In Her Hair on it, but that's probably just wishful thinking. I like to pick up my dads bass guitar and pretend i know how to play it even if i have perfected the bass solo in lies. i like the bit at the end of the last song where it goes all slow and cute and says: "we thank you all" and I'm sure that in the back ground you can hear some one laughing in the background. I have a giant nude picture of McFly with their guitars (and cymbal) placed artily in front. On the other side of my bed I have a humongous picture of the Joker holding up his namesake playing card with the caption "Why So Serious?" clapped on his suited midriff. I can't reach my wardrobe in my room and always break the box I have to stand on to get to the platform to get on tiptoes to reach the bar holding my dresses. I love Derren Brown, he is amazing. I can't actually count just how many times I've watched Something Wicked This Way Comes in the past month. Its been on TV, I've watched it on demand, I've watched the recording I recorded of it, all of these means of watching Derren Brown several times, each, no lies. I wish that I had kept all of my childhood keepsakes and memories and whatnots so that I could have proof that my early life did exist because there are no pictures of me at all. My sister has 4 photo albums all to herself, with a few towards the back of her on her rocking horse and doing her crazy, over-sized yet loving smile down at the really tiny wairy-eyed bald person who is allegedly me. This happens to be the only documentation that I was ever below 4 years of age. After many years of complaints, my family in Nottingham decided to make me a photo album for christmas. Ah, yes, Nottingham. The place where I have spent almost every holiday. Well, off I go. I'm off to watch Hollyoaks.

I Love You x

Sunday, 18 January 2009


I have trouble sleeping. My bed is next to a window. Add 1+1 together and you might have worked out that in the middle of the night I sometimes lift my blind up and take a look outside. It always takes me by surprise that the night sky is clear. And somewhat orange. After looking out with confusion for a while, I realise that not only is the sky a rather fetching shade of browny-orange, but there aren't any stars out.

This is more of an appeal than a complaint.



Natalie Rose;
I'd love to be able to sing, get my mind set on doing yoga and be able to go into TK Maxx and not have to spend at least half an hour before I find something I love. To me, if I had all of these qualities, I would be the most perfect person. You know the sort. The ones who were born into a beautiful, conventional family (nearly there), can bear to go into Starbucks and drink coffee (I find it freezing. And I don't like coffee.) , found the perfect concealer for their skin tone on the first try (it took me almost a year before I decided on a mix of porcalean and la peche.) and get all their homework done and in on time and get an amazing mark on it and then say "Oh, it was crap really." (mine really was).

That said, I think I'm pretty far away from being the most perfect person. I honestly don't see where they find the time. And if you are one of these perfect people then where the hell have you got time to even find time to read my blog. You should be writing poetry or eating green and iron-filled vegetables with whatever spare time you have.

Don't get me wrong, I salute you, perfect people. Just maybe we all have different points of view of what is really perfect.

Maybe, just maybe, one day I will be perfect from somebodys perspective.