Life is what you make it. I recently moved from a quiet town in the country to chase my big city dreams. Nothing ever goes smoothly, nothing is ever what it seems, but everyday I am getting closer. I am yet another slightly less-than-average girl trying to find her way in London, and in life.

Sunday, 9 October 2011

The X Factor: Who's going? ... Does anyone care?

Last night the live shows for The X Factor 2011 kicked off with a bang.

That bang was my head hitting the table, repeatedly.

I am slightly ashamed but never too proud to admit that I did get caught up in the whole X Factor buzz this year, only to come crashing back down to earth last night. Better late than never, eh.

I've never really been one of those passionate X Factor haters (I mainly don't see the point in getting that worked up about something that I can't do anything about) but I’d never before really seen the appeal of spending my Saturday nights stuck on the sofa glued to the TV when there is perfectly good alcohol in a perfectly nice pub waiting for me just down the street. But this year, I failed myself. Whilst waiting for my friends to come over and drag me out of the house, I stupidly tuned in to one of the auditions.  I was hooked.

That was, until last night.

I don't know what I was expecting or what didn't deliver, but from the get-go with Amelia Lily's simply average take of Billy Jean, I was unpleasantly indifferent. I wanted to care, I wanted to be enraptured from the moment she opened her mouth. I sat there, begging X Factor to take my life and hold it hostage for the next 9 weeks.

It wasn't as though I hated it (I actually quite enjoyed Johnny Robinson's butchering of Cher whilst looking like a turkey crisping nicely in the oven - though to be fair I've never been a fan of Cher and always have been of turkeys) but it was just nothing special. Even Janet Devlin, my absolute favourite, didn't really do anything for me. It was good - I just wanted more. I was just left feeling empty, bored, lifeless. It’s like when you buy the perfect dress; you think about it all afternoon; you imagine the perfect accessories; the best way to have your hair; the looks on your friends faces and then you finally reach a time where it’s deemed acceptable to start getting ready for your big night out; the excitement; the joy; the anticipation taking over you – and then nothing. You over-hyped it.

And that will always be the X Factor’s biggest problem. For the advertising, the sheer drama and buzz around the show, the amount of people talking about it, the X Factor will never ever be able to live up to that. It’s just not possible. Even this years "massive twist" - the fact that each judge will be sending home one of their acts tonight in the results show - was a bit of a let down. They've been doing that for the past 7 weeks it's not exactly a new concept. 

At the end of the day I think I'm quite glad that my X Factor bubble has been burst. I could now join the annoying tirade of haters who, year after year without fail (what a dedicated bunch), slag it off no end but ultimately the only thing they are doing is just getting their knickers in even more of a twist and add, in their own way, to the X Factor hype. Yes, the X Factor is one long awful karaoke that seems to suck up everyone's lives in the run up to Christmas. Yes, half of the acts really can't sing and they'll be forgotten about within a week. Yes, Louis Walsh is a pain in the ass and deserves a good, hard slap in the face (Yes, I am willing to offer myself for this task).

But for some reason - maybe it’s the outfits; the showmanship; the glitz or the glamour; or maybe it’s the fact that Gary Barlow actually isn't a massive waste of space and I'm developing a bit of a crush - I can't help but have a small soft spot for it. Maybe it’s the fact that the X Factor has been in our lives for so long now, it just wouldn’t quite be the run up to Christmas without it.  

Even though I was bored and considered going to bed just to get away from it; it may have swallowed up 2 and a half hours of my life mainly with adverts; I know I really, really hate John Michael, most of the groups and most of the over’s (that’s mainly aimed at you Kitty “I’m a massive douche” Brucknell. Even if you could sing, no one should ever, EVER try and do Queen); and yes even though it is a massive waste of time, effort and hairspray, I know that next weekend I’m going to be doing it all again.

Just next time I’m going to make damn sure I’ve had a few more glasses of wine.

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