Tuesday 29 November 2011

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Friday 11 November 2011

The F Word

I'm a feminist. And I'm massively proud of it. There, I've said it.

It genuinely baffles me that so many people seem oblivious to the fact that we live in an inherantly misogynistic society. On an individual level it's true that many women are happier, healthier, wealthier and more successful than many men. But as a gender we are still very much 'kept in our place'. The society we live in is one that is fundamentally skewed to meet a man's needs. And women are simply commodities in that set up. 

You only need to bother to read today's news to see shocking examples of how prevalent and accepted misogyny is in modern times:




And these are just a few examples, not including the seemingly endless ubiquitous 'articles' on why working mums are better than stay at home mums. But they'll die sooner so HA! for having your cake and eating it. Speaking of which, have you seen this new diet? Someone from Eastenders swears they lost 10 stone on it. But to be honest they'll probably put it all back on and look really shit in a years time. Like that one from The Bill did. And now her husband's left her for a younger woman. Her own fault really, just look at her. She should have tried that new face cream, the one that 21 year old model is promoting. You know, the one who got her tits out for that racy lads mag shoot and is going out with that actor over twice her age. Who left his last girlfriend because she wanted to have children rather than a boob job.

It just makes me SO BLOODY CROSS.

And I don't know how to change it.

Which makes me want to cry.




Friday 12 August 2011

6 Days Later

I can't be the only one who watched the events unfolding over the past few days and felt as though I must have stepped into a disaster movie of some kind. Except this wasn't fiction, this was real and it was happening all around us.

I think different people reacted to what was going on in different ways. Personally I felt a combination of morbid fascination and fear that it would reach us (it got pretty close), and I gained a complete inability to read or listen to any story, upsetting or uplifting, without bursting into tears.

For us the thing that really got to us was the fire. As soon as we could smell the smoke from our neighbourhood we packed a bag and left. We're somewhat oversensitive to fire nowadays. In November the building adjacent to ours caught fire at about 10pm at night. The residents had evacuated but not called the fire brigade (it was a rehabilitation hostel and many residents were wary of the authorities) so it caught hold quickly. Luckily the couple who live above us noticed the smoke coming in to their flat, called 999 and came down to tell us and the couple on the ground floor. We all fled out in to the street in the clothes we were wearing and proceeded to stand there, in the rain, for a further five hours, watching 12 fire engines, countless firemen and one of those big cherry picker water cannon type things doing battle with the flames. That building was completely destroyed but we were incredibly lucky that the fire brigade controlled things so well that the flames didn't pass through the walls into our block. Nine months on our insurance works are finally underway (to repair extensive water damage) and we look back on that night and reflect on how very fortunate we were.

This past week, so many people have not been so lucky. In a city, and indeed country, where our emergency services were overwhelmed and stretched to breaking, there was no chance of containing the fires that broke out. When I saw the pictures on the news of firefighters bravely doing battle with the infernos whilst people watched their homes and businesses burning I wept, knowing before they did that those flames would not be kept at bay without considerably more help. 

My heart and deepest sympathies go out to everyone who has been affected by these tragedies. And for everyone else, you cannot underestimate the power and danger of fire. Check your alarms, spread the word and keep safe.    

Wednesday 3 August 2011

T'internet

I'm feeling a bit confused having just read this bbc news story. To be honest the story itself doesn't really interest me, I'm old school and still buy all my music and films on discs. No, what grabbed me was the idea that if they wanted to, the internet providers could block certain sites.

If this is the case, could they please explain why they don't block dangerous and/or illegal sites such as those distributing child pornography, inciting racial hatred and encouraging anorexia to think of some examples.

The only explanation is that it's all down to the £££, but that makes me want to tear my hair out.

Wednesday 27 July 2011

Control

As anyone who knows me will verify, I'm a bit of a control freak. My control freakery was never an innate trait in me. It resulted from a crappy controlling relationship and is responsible for my fear of flying and general tendency towards anxiety when I feel I don't have a handle on something. It can be a good thing (saves a fortune on workmen's bills when I deem it neccessary to undertake any task myself), but other times it's not so good, and now is one of those times.

Right now the list of things I don't feel I have control over is pretty exhaustive:

1. My work
Now you already know about my boss and the hassle that he's causing me on a day to day basis. Realising that this is pretty damaging to my sanity I'm trying my best to be proactive on this one and am MAKING PLANS. These include working on my small business, doing some freelance work for some contacts and looking for a new (and part-time) job. Unfortunately that precious commodity called time makes all of these far harder than I would like, and the employment market we're currently witnessing certainly isn't helping but I can see a little glimmer at the end of the tunnel which I'm trying my best to focus on.

2. My home
Back in November the building next door to ours suffered a major fire and was completely gutted. At the time we were lucky enough to escape with nothing more than some water damage from the 14 (!) fire engines which were hosing the fire down for around 7 hours, but since then a catalogue of errors, mismanagement, lies and potential insurance fraud by our freeholder have left us out of pocket, ill and generally living in chaos. Up until April the remains of the building next door were left completely open to the elements while the various agencies in charge of them argued amongst themselves. This resulted in a wall the entire length of our flat suffering severe weather damage and going through decorative phases including wet look (sodden), textured (orange mould), and distressed (brown and flaky). Whilst the owners next door have now got their act together we've moved on to our next battle with our freeholder who is scrimping and trying to avoid carrying out repairs he has already claimed for on our buildings insurance. So basically we've been living in substandard accomodation for nine months now and paying through the nose (London property doesn't come cheap) for the priveledge. I am so utterly exhausted by this battle and the constant mess that surrounds us that it no longer feels like home, and that's sad.

3. My finances
Various events over the past couple of years, all of which are completely and utterly beyond my control (theft of our car & subsequent ripping off by our insurers, our freeholder being a money grabbing bastard, the general collapse of the global economy - that sort of thing) have meant that like most of you out there, my bank account is feeling more than a little sorry for itself. As a compulsive saver who is terrified of debt the fact that I've not only dipped into my overdraft but pretty much lived in it of late. Needless to say this has contributed a fair amount to the old tightness around the chest.

4. My relationship
Now let me just state that my relationship is brilliant and the only thing that keeps me sane amongst all the other craziness. But there's one big thing that's making me freak out: why does the man get to be the one in control of moving things forward (by which I mean proposing)? I'm generally pretty secure in myself and I know for a fact that we have a damn good relationship - better than at least 99% of couples out there, but in moments of weakness and anxiety I really wish that I could be in the driving seat on this one!

So overall, I'm pretty out of control at the moment. Any tips you've all got on fending off the crazy and regaining a grip on things would be most welcome!

Saturday 23 July 2011

Traffic

You know those myths and rumours that run through every family, "your great uncle Ronald invented the spoon" - that type of thing. Well in my family the legend is that we're related to William Wilberforce. I'm not convinced myself, but having said that I've never tried to prove or disprove it.

Wilberforce, for ignoramuses out there, was a politician who is credited with abolishing slavery in the UK in 1807. But if we look around us today, how well did he really succeed? Illegal though it may be to trade in people, we cannot deny that it goes on all around us, and that society does little to prevent it.

It's never front page news, but occassionally a story will crop up about tales of domestic servitude full of grisly detail about people, often children, kept in conditions not fit even for the most hardy of animals.

What we hear less about is the trafficking of people by the sex trade. Again, there will sometimes be a story boasting of the capture of a trafficking ring, but in these stories the focus is always on the capture of the bad guys and never on the torment of the good. Victims of trafficking are glossed over, even by our own authorities, as commodities rather than treated as the vulnerable humans they are.

This is going on all around us, in every town, and I don't know what upsets me more - that the authorities are overlooking it, or that society is obviously making use of it's services. Police figures estimate 30,000 people (mainly women) are forcibly trafficked into the sex trade in the UK but experts believe the real figure is far higher. The chances are that someone you know will have played a part in the abuse of a trafficking victim.

I guess I'm probably not descended from Wilberforce. Maybe if I were I would feel like I could do something to stop it.

Sunday 17 July 2011

Prejudice

Yesterday the boy and I went to look at a car. As we got to the garage the heavens opened and so we huddled under our umbrella peeking through the various car windows sussing out the specs on offer As you'd expect under such circumstances it wasn't long before a salesman came out and, under ruse of offering us shelter, lured us into the shiny showroom to look at the various models in more comfort. As it goes he was actually incredibly helpful and not remotely pushy (always a bonus if you ask me) and as we were genuinely interested in learning more about the deals on offer we sat down to talk figures. It was at this point that the salesman suddenly asked us if we were happy to have him go through this with us or whether we would prefer another member of staff. He explained that due to his physical disabilities (he had a bad limp and some facial paralysis which resulted in a slight slurring of speech, caused by brain damage at birth), some customers preferred to see another salesman. We were pretty dumbfounded. He was friendly, knowledgeable and helpful and NOT PUSHY. Give me that over a wide boy with a cheeky grin and a long line in banter any day of the week! That anyone would be prejudiced enough to overlook these traits because he looked and sounded a little different is abhorrent, especially in the supposed advanced society that we live in. We still haven't decided whether or not to buy the car yet but if we decide we want it we know for sure who we will be buying it from.

Friday 15 July 2011

Friday thoughts: I could be Beyonce

"Dance like nobody's watching;
love like you've never been hurt.
Sing like nobody's listening;
live like it's heaven on earth."

When I was young, I lived this philosophy, like REALLY lived it. Teenagedom and the desperate, clawing need to be accepted nearly knocked it all out of me, but I somehow I managed to cling to the remnants of my inner crazy (maybe it was Ally McBeal) and now I sing, full voice, whenever and wherever I am able. I've not tried it on the tube yet though...

Thursday 14 July 2011

Role Models (part 2)

If there's one celebrity's name that's guaranteed to get my back up, even more than the Kerry Katonas of this world, it's Chris Brown. Less for his actions en route to the Grammys two years ago as his behaviour since (complaining on chat shows, writing songs about how great he is) and the industry's sycophantic attitude towards him. The thing that upsets me more than anything is that the BBC, an institution funded by us, Interestingly the only DJ I know of who has refused to play his songs is Chris Moyles - a man regularly lauded in the media as boarish, bullying and unintelligent. Somehow I think, in cases like this we truly see that actions speak louder than words.

Wednesday 13 July 2011

Tuesday 12 July 2011

Horrible bosses!

This post is in part inspired by the forthcoming film of the same name, and in part by my current, urgent need to vent before I commit murder.

I've been fortunate enough to work for some brilliant bosses in my career so far, but I've also had the misfortune to have 2 who have both been equally breakdown inducing in different ways.

My last boss was female and the same age as me. She had been promoted from a role on my level (which she was no doubt incredibly good at) to managing a team of 3 and from the word go it was a nightmare. Suddenly on a power high but with no clue how to turn that power to good she was like a maniacal nursery teacher on the final of the apprentice, swinging from being your nicey nicey bestest friend who treats everything with kid gloves to a psycho bitch from hell who once gave me a formal warning (and I'm seriously not kidding on this) for breathing too loudly.

My current boss could not be more unlike my last. But, surprisingly, this isn't a good thing. Instead of the meticulous micromanagement and strict to the nearest second deadlines I'm faced with someone who sits on ANYTHING I send him, no matter how important, for months on end, despite my constant reminders, then forgets completely/loses them/sends them to the wrong email, and I have to start the whole process again from the beginning. Oh and then drops deadlines on me with an hours notice to turn them around. Which obviously means I never manage to get anything done as I'm constantly waiting/nagging/filling in a spreadsheet at the last minute.

Oh and he makes a mess of the kitchen and (shared) bathroom. Vom.

*prays I win the Euromillions tonight*...

Friday 8 July 2011

Limbo

Waiting. Perpetual frustration.

I feel like I'm living in Groundhog Day. Every morning I wake up with the same goals, the same tasks and by the end of the day I feel I've made progress but the next morning it's just the same as before.

And the whole time the clock's ticking away.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Wednesday 6 July 2011

Role Models

Growing up I really don't remember that celebrities had much of an impact on my psyche. If I'd aspired to be like anyone from the showbiz world it would have been some combination of Kylie and Michaela Strachan (which, come to think of it is kind of how I've ended up), although I always harboured a secret desire (which has never left me) to be a ballerina.

Today, however, it seems that celebrities are shaping the consciousness of our nation's children to an ever increasing degree. When polled, young girls are consistently naming WAG, glamour model and reality TV star above nurse, teacher or vet as their career aspiration. In the face of such adulation, you'd think our 'role models' would feel burdened by the responsibility to create a strong role model for their devotees but we know that sadly that is not the case.

One of the biggest idols - 'nations sweetheart Cheryl Cole' is back in the papers currently because there is fervered speculation that she is getting back together with her ex husband Ashley. This, let us not forget, is a man who was sick on a hairdresser he was cheating with, and who sent photographs of his manhood to numerous girls. So why does Cheryl, someone thousands of girls aspire to be like, believe, to paraphrase the words she's paid to handsomeley to say, she's worth that behaviour? And does she not have a duty, as someone who these girls look up to, to stand there and say, 'you know what, I deserve better'?

Monday 4 July 2011

Me: now/then

I recently turned 28.

So what, you might be asking, it’s hardly a seminal enter-a-new-decade-and-throw-a-big-party age is it? And I would have agreed. But since the B day I’ve found myself musing on the fact it’s a whole ten years since I turned 18 and suddenly it feels like kind of a big deal. 18 was something of a big year for me in a number of ways: my mum was very unwell, I sat (and flunked) my A-levels, I found myself engaged to an abusive knob who I’d only succumbed to dating in the first place to try and earn some cool points, I sat and watched the events unfold in real time on 9/11 whilst the banana loaf I was baking turned to cinders in the oven, and, monumentally, I left home and went to University where I met a group of ladies who made me rethink my views on pretty much everything.

These young women (I was at a single sex college which might sound like hell to some of you but was utterly amazing) came from a multitude of backgrounds, cultures and parts of the world, and while some friendships didn’t survive the first term others are still with me and stronger than ever. Suddenly I, a middle class comprehensively educated averageton from a small northern town with approximately four non white families in it, was sharing the dinner table with a cross-hatch of society from throughout the world. By knowing, interacting, arguing and having fun with these girls I found a confidence that came from within for the first time in my life and this kick started the process of becoming a new, real, me who dumped the dickhead, embraced the silly, swotty girl that is me, fell in love with an old friend and began to carve a real future for herself.

Ten years on from this epic year I find myself facing another crossroads and unsure what choices I should be making now to put myself on the right path for the next ten years. Me and my lovely boyfriend (the aforementioned former friend) moved down to London after our studies and began to carve careers for ourselves without a thought to that distant spectre of our thirties. While the boy reached his last year, I’m still clinging onto the dwindling years of my twenties, determined to wring them for all the fun I can. But something, this somehow-era-defining-but-not-a-number-found-on-a-greetings-card age perhaps, or the distant call of the northern lands I grew up in, have left me wondering whether there’s more to it all than this city living 9 to 5 existence. I’ve grown weary of the hustle, the bustle, the office, the rush hour, and I suspect I’m not alone.

Who knows what the next ten years will hold for me and my fella: a move to the country? (hopefully very soon), marriage? (almost certainly), babies? (hmm, we’ll see about that one, I’m not too sure myself), and now for the biggie, a change of career path? – here’s where I get a bit stuck. If not this job then what is it I actually want to do with my life? Is it too late to start something new? Should I have trained as an engineer instead of pursuing that arts degree? What about the mortgage? Is there actually enough work out there to get by as a freelancer? Can I make a success of my talents on my own? These are the questions I’m now asking, and like most of you I’m guessing, I don’t have the answers.

But just as 18 flipped my world upside down and gave me a much needed kick up the arse to find the real me who was ready to face young adulthood I’m hoping maybe 28 can help me shed a little light on these troublesome topics and wondering whether my peers have found their answers.