My Not-so-Secret Wishlist!

Let's turn away from what many would classify as a typical way of thinking - come on, broadening your mind and unleashing your whiplike opinions and discovering the root of your very soul has never had such a brilliant, irresistible opportunity such as now! In a society respecting all of one's rights and entitled freedoms, I've never felt more compelled to reveal the imaginary wishlist - one which will, within a few sentences, no longer remain as a carefully concealed secret, brushed with a layer of near-ivory foundation - which sets my heart beating like wildfire and is the bustling centre of all which is part of my Revenge-watching self. Ready to leap into the car and venture onto a wild ride? Read on... 

1. Buy a Dior or Chanel handbag. Ah, it's probably the present which most parents would dream of purchasing for their beloved Prada-clad daughter, isn't it? Carrying a Chanel - or indeed, very on-trend Dior, whose recent winter collection made my heart flutter wildly to the verge of fainting with breathtaking shock - bag on your shoulder signifies success, elegance and a whopping load of money - doesn't it seem remotely strange how the bag in which you bring a leopard print-covered Nokia smartphone, a stash of TicTacs and one too many mirrors to frown at your spotlight-seeking blemishes create such a valuable image about your social class and, sometimes, personality? 

OK, my pocket money does not quite stretch to the budget necessary to walk into the accessories department in Harrods and demand the latest, eye-watering expensive handbag donned by countless A-list celebrities, so I guess that my little fantasy - one which was brought to life by my mum's contagious passion for bags, which I've fortunately inherited alongside a naturally stunning hair colour - will be forced to stay on hold for the time being. Besides, how could I bring myself to spend such a ridiculously amount of money - fine, I throw my hands into the air and grudgingly admit that designer bags, however beautiful they look and the emotions stirred inside one's ricciarelli-filled stomach, are overpriced, whilst I grit my teeth spitefully - on one single item when I would be able to afford perhaps a whole new wardrobe and many other things? This, to my inner fashionista's disappointment, will be placed inside a locked metal box until my intended, show-stopping career in journalism earns me enough to splash out on an iMac, let alone a cute, timelessly designed Dior chain bag whose voice grows nearer as I attempt to run away from its golden buttons... 

2. Speak like a French couramment! Yes, yes, learning to speak a second language like a native has to be a more inspirational dream than spending a day inside a luxury department store, overwhelmed by the sight of handbags which are overly too beautiful to be touched, let alone used? It seems that I think so as well, which certainly means that my mind hasn't lost its gradually-built senses and thrown everything - from esteem-powering intelligence to my supermarket-basic sanity - in the bin, the stench of which makes my eyes water uncontrollably. 

One fact which must be strongly pointed out is that j'adore the French language in the heart-fluttering style of a gaelic, subtle romance, so absorbing all of the words, verbs, adverbs and everything else - which, when first explained, makes the arduous task of climbing a snow-layered mountain a wished-for birthday present - and developing my knowledge, situated inside a pot like a leafy plant,  makes me thirstier to succeed with my ambition!

Still, I'm undoubtedly going to come across several hurdles which will drag me down onto the muddy field for a moment, until my determination to carry on gives me the strength to get up again - at the moment, idioms have resumed the object of annoyance thanks to their blood-boiling levels of difficulty, yet I've only been recently introduced to the subject associated with the French language; everything new, regardless of whatever it may be, is guaranteed to send me around the bend and forget about assuming the role of a supposed peacemaker! 

Unlike my realistic fantasy above, I reckon that I have a higher chance of achieving success with the French language, despite not being exactly aware of when I may reach a fluent, naturally confident level - intermediate/slightly advanced is probably the most accurate description for my skills in their current state, so I've yet to cover several daunting subjects before the finishing line comes within sight. It's a challenge - and eventual dream come true - which I intend to fulfill...

3.  Attend a proper, fully-kitted music concert.  In some people's eyes, stealing a bag of heavenly-flavoured Fruit Pastilles would be deemed a form of destruction in relation to the law and would therefore be a committed crime. 

However, iPod-listening, We Found Love-singing teenagers use their minds in quite a different way: daring to not listen to a single song or resisting the urge to dance with thrusting moves when a track hits the airwaves can derive such horrified gasps from zebra-patterned legging-donning teenagers that denying oneself of an undying passion for music is criminal. Hence the reason why I sometimes find myself in a fantasy where I'm standing amongst a rowdy crowd, dressed up to the nines in deadly gothic eyeliner and a ready-to-party dress, and singing along to my favourite tracks by chart-topping artists, none other than Lady Gaga and Lana Del Rey. Ooh, I've lost fingers (and toes!) of the amount of times I've caught myself wishing to attend a Lana Del Rey concert where the lyrics of heated Summertime Sadness and catchy National Anthem would rule the arena, whilst the idea of watching Lady Gaga in action and hearing her stronger-than-believable echo through the night makes me squeal with delight - are these dreams really too unrealistic or should I follow my dreams, trailing behind the arena-load legion of loving fans? 

If an opportunity such as this ever happened to arise and I had to make a cut-throat decision about which artist I would die in baby pink Aristocats pyjamas to see live in concert, my lips would form Lana Del Rey's name within an instant - not only do her songs tell stories reminiscent of David Lynch's legendary, intriguing Twin Peaks (an alleged influence of hers), listening to Lana Del Rey helped me focus on something excitingly different and original whilst I went through the heart-breaking ordeal of losing my cat, Tom, earlier this year. Plus, I'm sure that Tom wouldn't have meowed an irritated 'no' at the opportunity of singing on stage with a wonderful singer who wears the very best red lipstick in the whole of show business. Only time will tell on this one, I think. 

And finally... 

4. Become a journalist. Some girls aspire to pursue a career adorned with presents consisting of Tiffany's diamonds, famously promoted relationships with A-listers and lead a life constantly filmed on camera, forgetting the troubles and perils surrounding normality, the capital of Planet Earth. 

Hmm, must I be the odd one out here or what? Sure, I may have believed just a tiny bit that my so-called 'singing' voice - the one which could be heard miles away whilst I was alone inside a room, busting a move which would make my Casper-pale cheeks turn the colour of a can of tomatoes - could rival those battling for their lives and overly sensitive emotions on televised contests, yet I quickly moved on from that temporary stage as a seven year old to fulfill more meaningful - and indeed less ridiculous - ambitions, such as working hard to become a journalist. You see, writing here on my blog every so often isn't just a means of wasting some free time - every word I write and every adjective I use to describe either my feelings or another subject takes me further towards a dream which may one day become a reality. 

As soon as I was able to read and write, the majority of my free time has been dedicated to storing my thoughts and telling about my adventures in a diary, whilst being drawn into an alluring book has broadened and ripened my passion for reading and everything associated with literature - unsurprisingly, English has always been my favourite subject in lessons! 

So, entering the journalism industry doesn't seem too hard a deal for myself because I easily made my mind up several years ago to work my hardest and hopefully achieve the life which I wish to lead in the future! 

And do I think that it is realistically possible that, in ten years' time, I could be writing for a newspaper and breaking all of my previously reserved boundaries in order to develop my skills beyond a level I never knew existed? Hope is all that I can rely on at the moment, but I cannot deny a smile - complete with lipstick-stained teeth and berry-stained lips - lightning my features whenever the handsome thought crosses my mind. 

Four wishes: ones which I'm desperate to come true. OK, I wouldn't die of shame if I was to forego a childish fantasy of carrying a Dior bag on my shoulder for the end of time, nor is a Lana Del Rey concert necessary to secure my happiness - journalism and fluency in French are, I'm proud to claim, are my two largest wishes which I would love to see granted by a magical fairy one day. So, if I'm still writing here in around a decades' time, would you like to find out whether any of my fantasies broke out of a dream-like bubble and turned into a memory? Let me know...