What this means is for the past two weeks, I have been creating a mental pros and cons list about murder. How would I go about harming these innocent builders who have been paid to come into this old building with paper thin walls, and start drilling from about 8:30am until 6:30pm? How should I ensure they have a slow and painful death? 

Here's an idea I had earlier.

I've been having really vivid dreams recently and this morning, as I was gradually pulled out of my great dream and, brought back to the real world by a weird drilling sound in the distance – I legit knocked on the new neighbours door with my own drill ...and after I was done it was most definitely silent. Obviously this was all in my head and the rational side of me knows that my bloodlust anger is misplaced and also irrational. BUT. There is something so fucking annoying about not being able to relax in silence in what you call your own safe and personal space. Especially for someone like me, who treats their home like a Turtle treats its' shell. Wait, duh. 

So with my headphones on I've had a steady stream of music going to drown out the sound of drilling and for the first, maybe four, hours I've been listening to LEMONADE on repeat. Nope not the Diplo/Gucci Mane/La Roux mash up, but Beyonces' new visual body of work.

I've got to say I think it's pretty, prrrettttaaay, pretttaaay, good.

I really enjoy the fact that she's treated the album like a bit of therapy. How much of it is true? I don't think we'll ever find out, due to Beyonce being very protective of her private life, but actually I don't think it matters. Whether they're all heartfelt tracks narrating a really rocky time in her life or if it's just another character, I'm really enjoying the cohesiveness of the record. And most of all the honesty of it all. Like:

"What? Someone would cheat on BEYONCE? With another actual human being? Not even a random deity? A LESSOR???"

It feels like another attempt to personally dismantle her own pedestal and ahm hurr for it.

My fav moments include - realising exactly what Beyonce meant when she cockily sang; "I've got Hot Sauce in my bag". I loved the care free swinging of a bat at public property, whilst singing over a sweet melody. I LOVED Beyonce in the all grey with the sexy flash of underboob showing and the fur (I hope it was fake bheb). The all grey, with the cornrow extensions was definitely my fave look.

I also really enjoyed seeing her focus on more serious issues like the BLACKLIVESMATTER movement and also just the treatment of black women in general. Ultimately i'm a sucker for albums that seem to take you on a journey (see John Legend - Get Lifted or Kanye West - College Dropout) so LEMONADE really hits the spot. 

Now onto the elephant in the room. 

Who is the alleged other woman (who's teeth we ALL want use as confetti ...J/K)? Apparently it's either Rachel Roy (WHY JAY?) or Rita Ora (double WHY JAY??????), either way we all know it's a lessor. 

One thing's for sure, now we can understand why Solange boxed down Jay-Z in that elevator.

Like most, i'm hating on the people who are currently at Coachella, the line up and the weather looks amazing. I had always kind of ignored Coachella up until last year during the summer when I did work experience with ASOS magazine and one of my first jobs was to find hotels for the editorial team to stay at while they went to Coachella (insert sarcastic comment here about how much writing you actually do on an internship with a magazine).

Asos were actually really nice to work with AND they gave me a leaving gift, most places don't give you jackshit. I'll leave the gripes and stories for my 'woes of an intern' blog which i'll no doubt post sooner or later.

ANYWAY COACHELLA. So while looking for the hotels I realised ..."fuck yeah coachella'' just like that. The heat, the setting and the music it's like a more beautiful Glastonbury, (while we're on the subject of Glastonbury, BEYONCE WHY?) and I realised I would have to go atleast once in my life. When they announced the lineup earlier this year I seriously felt like putting on some spandex and perspex sumtings and working 'hard for mah moneh' to pay for the flight and hotel over there. Didn't work out.

So here I am googling Coachella street style, torturing myself a liddle bit. Here are my favs:

sources: here, here, here and here