The Eastleigh by-election result, as told in GIFs

Many people have been asking me about my verdict on Eastleigh by-election result, especially due to my exercise in UKIP baiting the other day.

Rather than go through a long winded post again about a by-election making points already made by my colleagues across the media, I thought I'd turn to my sadly neglected personal blog. I feel my views can be better represented in GIFs of the other person to win big this week and became an international darling in the process, Jessica Lawrence.

The Liberal Democrats

When I try to think of something witty and original to say about Mike Thornton:

UKIP

When UKIP tried to act like they are an unstoppable force in politics and 'coming in second is like coming in first' when they beat the 'Sarah Palin' candidate of a governing party which is widely despised by the electorate.

And failed to beat the party where the outgoing MP is about to be sentenced for perverting the course of justice, the former chief executive is engulfed in a sleaze/sex scandal and the leader is accused of lying.

Seriously, even George Galloway has won an election with Respect.

TWICE.

It can't be that hard.

The Conservatives

Whenever Maria Hutchings opened her mouth.

Labour

When Labour try to justify their result, saying they weren't going to win anyway.

Thanks to London Grumblr for the gifs.

I need a hobby...

I have decided I need a new hobby.

Having devoted myself to journalism these past few years my original hobby, writing, has been slowly taken over and turned into a professional endeavour meaning I have no real answer for the question 'what do you do in your spare time?'

Of course, I do all the normal 21 year old girl things like watching TV, listening to music and drinking too much but what I need is a cool and interesting hobby, like sky diving, or painting, or photography. Or at least something I can use Instagram to document (as this seems to be the go to move for all those achingly cool types I see on Twitter).

Because, in 2012, if you can't take a slightly grainy looking picture of yourself doing it, holding an Iphone afloat and pouting then its probably not worth doing.

I remember back when I still had a reasonable amount of money and my life wasn't completely occupied with work/my career/escape plans I used to be reasonably fun (I've never been cool). I used to listen to good (ish) music and while I was never one of those annoying people who go find unsigned bands (who are normally unsigned for a reason) and act superior to those who listen to 'mainstream music' I knew my arse from my elbow when it came to the slightly under the radar musicians and artists.

Since the heady days of my youth (aka during my GCSEs when I never did any work) I've become too utilitarian about everything. As I do not what to be a music journalist so why bother spending too much time with it?  I may love fashion but I don't have the money for clothes and I lack that certain type of creativity to make new ones. Although I can sew even if that's mainly sewing buttons back on the cardigans and shirts I've had for about five years.

I wouldn't say I've been more boring, just perhaps a bit more two dimensional and I've lost a lot of what I once loved in life. That is probably contributing to my unhappiness at the moment (other than being unemployed).

My career has to remain my priority, and whilst I'm still poor, I can't afford to adopt a home that involved spending money. So that leaves me doing something indoors and probably in the house.

Which, given the idea was originally designed to stop me going stir crazy, may not be ideal.

Damn, how on earth can I become a cool and important twenty something without one?

Of course, I don't even have an Iphone or Android phone so I can't use Instagram anyway.

My life is over.



 

Leeds Fest: I'm Not Cut Out For This Sort of Thing

(NB: Yeah, I haven't updated this in forever. My bad. Being unemployed is busy work apparently.)

 Last week I went to my very first music festival. In this day and age and in my circle of friends, this is seen as bizarre and abnormal that a girl of almost 22 could have gone through life without attending at least one festival, especially as Leeds Festival is (sort of) on my doorstep. However, despite having a blast, I can confirm that festivals really aren't for me and it likely I will never go again for the following reasons:

 1. Cost. Leeds Fest is approximately £200 per person for a weekend ticket. I went on a day ticket which cost nearly £100. Now, that was the upper limit of my entire weekly budget including food, bills and fun when I lived in Birmingham. Now that I'm on the dole, it would take me two weeks to save up for a one day ticket. Luckily, my parents bought two one day tickets for my sister's birthday and she need an over 18 with her to get her into the park. Looking around, wearing the clothes I've had for a couple of years I saw a lot of perfectly manicured, with artfully messy blonde hair decorated with the overpriced floral headbands you could buy on the way in and clothes that have been painstakingly put together in a way to suggest they'd just thrown them on this morning. And loads of hipsters. I have never been one of those girls, nor will I ever be able to take them seriously. I realise the reason I feel like everyone goes to festivals is because everyone I know has overindulgent parents. For the vast majority of people in the UK, the idea of going to a festival rather than just watching it on TV is a laughable expense. Even if they could scrap together the money for the ticket (and the overpriced food and drink inside), they could go on a mini break somewhere warm for that amount of money.

 2.Cleanliness. I don't like mud OK. I don't like public toilets. I don't like not being able to wash my hands over a sink with soap and hot water. I don't like communal showers.

3.Crowds. I've never been a big fan of large crowds as they need to bring out the claustrophobia in me. However this is ten times worse at a festival because you are constantly having to watch out for weird people trying to crowd surf on your head and people throwing their own urine around. Incidentally, throwing urine at someone is classed as assault but doesn't seem to stop people at festival who, despite being able to buy a £100-200 ticket, seem to prefer to act as they were raised by wolves. That and when you are frequently getting knocked over by people suddenly frantically moshing and/or fighting nearby its never easy to avoid bruising.

4.Tiredness. By the end of the day, my feet really, really hurt. And the next morning I could barely get out of bed I was so tired. Bear in mind I only went for a day and I am 21. There is something so exhaustingly about listening to bands play all day and never sitting down (though I assume its worse for the performers). I clearly don't have the stamina.

However, one thing I will say about my experiment with Leeds Fest is that the live music is unbeatable. Having been a fan of the Foo Fighters for several years, I was really only there for them and whilst I wasn't particularly interested in some of the line up on the Main Stage, getting the Kaiser Chiefs and Foo Fighters in a 2 for 1 deal was pretty awesome. There is a great atmosphere at a festival (when you're not being squashed or assaulted) that its always good to experience once in your life. But maybe not every year.

Late At Night When My Internal Monologue Should Really Go To Sleep

Sometimes I think I shouldn't publicise my inner thought stream if I want to be taken seriously as a grown up journalist.


However, now that a few freelancing excursions have taken place that make me feel like a real journalist (it feels much like I'm sure Pinocchio felt the day he became a real boy) I have come to the conclusion I'm not going to manage the 'grown up' half of the equation.


That digression aside onto the original purpose of this blog form of late night stream of consciousness. I remember a stand up routine from Irish comedian Ed Byrne about the banality of most men's thoughts. He said that women should not ask what men are thinking because most of the time its something stupid like thinking 'what it would be like to be a spy'.


Now I'm thinking about what it would be like to be a mermaid.


Think about it, you get to go anywhere in the world you want never having to worry about worldly cares like future careers, friends and paying rent. You can travel to the four corners of the Earth, your hair is always shiny with lots of free seashell accessories and hang out with all your fish friends whose only concern is to avoid any stray sharks and don't bother with those ridiculous 'feelings' that your human friends are so obsessed with.

And I'd get a really shiny tail.

Maybe I should be less concerned with those who don't take me seriously and worry about those who seriously think I need to be carted off to the funny farm.

Because they're probably right.

Dear Men...I Promise We're Not All As Mental As Samantha Brick Has Made Out.

Dear Men of the World,

It may have come to your attention in a recent Femail article that Samantha Brick believes us women are all jealous, insecure harpies that spend our every waking moments studying our reflections, bewailing our imperfections and viciously despising any more beautiful rival that strays into our path. You see, all that Nobel Prize winning, career climbing and generally running the world that we do can never been enough because we are not being universally fawned on for our skilful use of the cosmetics industry to compliment the accident of genetics that is our face.


However I assure you we are not all that mental. Some of us have even developed enough insight to recognise that the way we look is not, or at least should not be, our defining feature and have enough grace to not care that much. You see some of us, unlike Ms Brick, have even developed enough personality to not need to rely on our looks as a reason why people don't like us.


For my part, I do not consider receiving a free glass of champagne from an airplane pilot for being pretty as a boring regularity as I possess enough gratitude and humility to take it as an unexpected compliment. I too have been called 'beautiful' by both kind and creepy strangers. When I was five a man on a tram in San Francisco told my mother that I was a beautiful little girl, gave me some money and hopped off to never been seen again. When I was seventeen I was followed through a market in Xian, China by a 'blinking' man who I later worked out was trying to wink at me as the Western custom had not transferred properly. I was also given a paper rose by a man in a pub when I was eighteen who said he'd made early in the evening and I was the only girl he'd seen worth giving it too (the romance of this gesture however is rather lost on the fact that it occurred in a Wetherspoons).


However I do not see these three isolated incidents as a sign of my aesthetic superiority to other women, more a sign of being 'mildly attractive' in common with around about 95% of the female population. I do not expect women to hate me for telling these stories, when they do I assume its due to the fact I'm the kind of girl who spends 75% of her time with boys rather than because of my face.


Although it is true that when I see a pretty girl I do sometimes think 'wow she's pretty, what a bitch' this sentiment does not normally last longer the time it takes to think it. You see men, we are often irrational, emotional and do have a tendency to hate each other but were not all that shallow.


I wonder if Ms Brick ever wondered if rather than hating for her looks, women hate her for her?

Yours sincerely

An only 'semi-mad' woman.

Protest ALL THE THINGS!

Protest ALL THE THINGS...Or How I Learnt To Stop Worrying About My Future And Make Memes Instead


Being a student at the University of Birmingham is being more comedic than usual. Although most universities can argue that they too have their own OMCO, their own Drinks to Go man, their own version of Fab 'N' Fresh based depravity, their own 'Overhead on Campus' but few have their own, long running sideshow like our venerable Guild of Students and its ongoing 'he said, no he said' war throughout this academic year.


I know I should take it seriously. It is serious. Whilst it was announced today that graduates are just as likely to be unemployed as GCSE school leavers, Cameron and his merry band of millionaires continue on with their dastardly plot to rob the poor student to feed the rich bankers' bonuses aided and abetted by the Big Bad Wolf of Higher Education; Birmingham's very own Vice-Chancellor Professor David Eastwood (though I may be mixing up my folk tale metaphors there). Students and young people more generally are victims over a resurgence in the 'blame da yoof' bandwagon because they assume we won't fight back unless our mummies and daddies help us. How dare we want fair access to education! How dare we want to be paid for the work we do! We're such ingrates. Its good that there are people ready to fight and be imprisoned for our rights and I feel the requisite solidarity and anger for those still facing the university's ire over their actions but I really wish they would go about it in a way that wasn't so rife for a piss take.


Take the 'Protest the Protest Ban' on campus last week that went hopelessly awry(ish). As a girl in my seminar said 'So its a protest...about not being able to protest?' There has to be some sort of philosophical name for the Dr Strangelovian 'You can't fight in here, this is a war room' logic of it all.


It started out sensibly enough with one impassioned (and remarkably brave) first year girl's well-delivered speech about being screwed and silenced like Imogen Thomas (too much? I'm paraphrasing- her summary was far more eloquent and a lot less crass than mine)was not what students signed up (and paid £3000/£9000 a year) for. Then the more seasoned members of the movement got on the mic and so the rhetoric flowed. During one speech I was waiting for it to end in a roar of 'Students of the world unite, we have nothing to lose but our chains'. And from that point onwards, given that the sabbatical officers were already running around like headless chickens and shouting at each other, I knew it was going to descend into some form of 'Anarchy by the Clocktower'.


There was an admirable plan of a march from Mermaid Square in the Guild of Students to the Clocktower (by Aston Webb and the home of Eastwood's office)- a distance of approximately 100 feet. Of course this didn't happen (I have no idea why the Guild expected it would) and I soon found myself watching about twenty people hammering on an office window (whether or not it was Eastwood's is undetermined) shouting 'Are you worth a grand a day'. This tiny dose of hilarity was completed by a comment from a passer-by who pointed out that as Eastwood has recently taken a 10% pay rise on his existing £392,000 a year salary, he is earning considerably more than a grand a day.


Afterward it descended even further into madness as we made the next stop on our pilgrimage; outside student services where Simon Furse, 2nd year student and scapegoat for the university's frustrations with the Occupation in November, was supposed to be 'disciplined' before his hearing was postponed. Whilst listening to the banging on the windows and the shouts of 'We are Simon Furse' I couldn't help but wonder if I were to start with 'I'm Spartacus' how many would join in.*

Now the Guild is at war with itself over 'health and safety' and the battle lines are being drawn for more pointless bickering. People criticise students as lazy, apathetic and drunk but can you really blame us?

We tried to protest, we signed the petitions, we voted Liberal Democrat and we stormed the Milibank Centre to stand up for ourselves but no-one listened. So can you really blame us for giving up? The government don't give a crap about us and we may discuss them as a 'general' mass but most members of the general public don't give a crap about anyone but themselves and their children; in the eyes of the middle class keeping the riff raff out of higher education is probably seen as a good thing. So we go to FAB, we make memes complaining about Virgin Media or mocking Mark Harrop because what else are we supposed to do? The government is about to screw us before we get to university, the universities will screw us while we're there and they will get private companies to screw us for no money when we leave. Why both shouting if no-one is listening?

In Chile, Camilla Vallejo managed to bring the entire country to its knees in 2011 to get freer access to education. In Britain, Charlie Gilmour swung off a war memorial and got sent to prison. We want something to believe in and a leader to rally around but we've yet to see anything get behind. That's why we're burying our heads in memes.

On the outside we may be laughing but trust us, on the inside we're banging our heads on the table.

*An alternative title would be 'We're All Spartacus Now'

Valentine's Day? I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon

I have always been a Valentine's Day sceptic.

When you say you don't celebrate it people always give you a knowing smirk and suggest that its perhaps because I don't have 'someone special'.

Now, I may not have a boyfriend but I am in possession of a couple brain cells and I honestly do not say this from the 'rebelling against it because I know I'll die alone' position.

In fact I can't help thinking that if I did have a boyfriend I may break up with him just for these 24 hours so I didn't have to buy into all the usual saccharine crap forced down our throats every year.

I hate romance, I hate sentiment, I don't like poetry or chick flicks and I have never sat and dreamed about my wedding day.

The whole thing makes me feel quite nauseous actually.

But yet somehow I am still oddly a romantic; I saw a boy today buying flowers for his girlfriend and I'll admit for a moment my heart melted. He was adorable.

Then it froze again and I was back to cynicism.

I don't believe that you should tell someone you love them just because its Valentine's Day. Why not give your girlfriend a present because its April 23rd and you think they're pretty. Why not take them out to dinner because its a nice evening?

Now maybe this is me being a diva and is biased by my expectation of being treated like a princess on more than just my birthday or Valentine's (this may also be too do with why I currently don't have a boyfriend).

If you buy someone a generic teddy bear or bouquet of roses on special offer how are you showing you care? Why not get her something she actually likes?

For me that's pizza, a movie where there are lots of explosions and witty banter in and writing my dissertation for me.

But that's just me.

Dear Orange

Why do you seem to be under the impression that providing the internet connection that I pay you for is optional?

Would you feel the same if I decided paying you was optional?

Because spending my evenings on the phone to your Indian call centre workers rather than getting on with my work or with my life even.

So after two weeks of a broken laptop I finally bring it home and connect it to the internet. It is running excruciatingly slowly then all of a sudden the internet connection disappears completely.

And hasn't returned for the past five hours. Apparently the router is buggered.

Such is my life.

Oooo I feel a scheme coming on...

...which is good because I'm getting so bored.

What I Have (Erroneously) Learnt From Disney Movies

Disney has a hell of a lot to answer for. They are probably eighty per cent responsible for my world view as a child and probably still twenty per cent effective still. This is essentially what I believed aged five:

1) Men with hairy chest and muddy, heavy boots are far too virile to be up too any good, next thing you know they'll gather an angry mob to kill your friends when you dump them (Gaston).
2) That as long as you're a nice, friendly and benevolent anthropomorphic lion than its ok to not be able 'to wait to be king'.
3) Never trust girls called Vanessa (aka Ursula's alter alias when trying to steal Eric away from Ariel by stealing her voice).
4) Mice can be servants and friends rather than household pests (my Ornithophobia held fast on the birds as friends question however).
5) That an evil sea witch had stolen my beautiful singing voice and left me tone deaf (clue: I was just tone deaf).
6) That it was possible to have naturally occurring fire engine red hair (you ain't foolin' nobody Ariel, Nice 'N' Easy perhaps?)
7) Boys called 'Eric' are wusses.
8) That everyone should have their own Robin Williams voiced Genie.
9) That if you didn't have dainty (and small) feet like Cinderella you were an Ugly Stepsister.
10) Snow White was a wuss.
11) That Pocohontas was a perfectly acceptable name for my soon to be new born sister (and telling my entire kindergarten class that it will be the case).
12) That the 'belly out' Jasmine look was a good idea.
13) That girls that read books and want adventures are cool.

What I still believe (and what proved to be correct):

1) Snow White was a wuss (and potentially a bit easy given she went off to the Prince's castle without any form of drink buying at the end).
2) That Pocohontas is a perfectly acceptable nickname for my fifteen year old sister.
3) That apart from Aladdin, nearly every boy in a Disney movie is a bit of a wuss.
4)That girls that read books and want adventures are cool.
5)That everyone should have their own Robin Williams voiced Genie.
6)To see a sea witch about a singing voice if I ever think about entering any reality talent show (not that I would anyway).
7)Never trust girls called Vanessa.

Next time: What I have erroneously learnt from Gossip Girl.

'But I Don't Wanna Grow Up!'

I hate responsibility.

I do not like having to look after myself and sort out stupid things like money and my future, why can I not tell someone what I want and have them do it for me? Is that too much to ask?

I'd rather flout around in my usual overly dramatic way absorbed in my usual exenstential crises and uni work panics without having anything to do with this 'reality' business.

I mean, its a nice place, but you wouldn't want to live there.

Slap List 2011

(Disclaimer: If I actually met any of these people I wouldn't slap them unless it was in the verbal way. I'm not a violent person. Promise.)

Having seen this on the Guardian no less I have decided that it is ok to post this without getting sued although the title may still raise eyebrows.

The above title is my own pecuilar way of describing the list below of the people who have annoyed me most in the past year. It comes from being a peculiar girl from a peculiar family with a peculiar mother who introduced her to the concept of a 'slap list' at a very young age. Upon seeing someone who annoys her own television she would remark 'they're on my slap list'. It describes someone who is completely, irrationally irritating. Therefore I have composed my own, both political and cultural, list of people who got on my wick for various reasons in 2011. They are as follows:

1) David Cameron/Nick Clegg: Perennial favourites but it is becoming increasingly impossible to distinguish where Cameron's arse ends and Clegg's head begins.

2) Barack Obama: I liked you when you were elected. I was all 'yes we can'. Stop screwing that up. The Guantanamo Bay thing was not cool. Bad Obama. Lad points must go for this and the whole Rick rolling Twitter thing though.

3) Royalists: Give it up. No-one cares about Wills and Kate. And the British public is not mostly royalist, they just liked the extra day off work. Apathy is not a mandate to rule.

4)The Tea Party- Go Away, Please?

5)Nadine Dorries- You know why.

6)Louise Mensch- See above.

7)Theresa May- And so completes the Tory party answer to Macbeth: 'We shall we three meet again/in thunder lighting or in rain/ when the hurly burly's done, when the battles' lost and won'. And I'm not making it up...

8)Greece- Can you stop imploding please? You're giving the europhobics ammunition to scare people.

9)Tulisa from X Factor- Does she just bug anyone else? Anyone?

10) The Go Compare Man- Why is this still on television?

11) Peaches Geldof- Why is she still on television?

12) The Entire Cast of Made In Chelsea- The Only Way is Essex cast are just as vapid but at least they know and are a little nicer about it...And the boys have stupid hair.

13) News of the World- Not cool. Just not cool.

14) David Starkey- Really? I used to like the way you made Tudor history into an episode of Gossip Girl.

15) George Osbourne- A valuable asset to Cameron's government to be sure as they can save money by paying him exclusively in gold stars and extra crayons.

16) Network Rail- 'We are sorry to announce that every train you ever try to get on is delayed indefinitely/cancelled. We are not really sorry for the delay to your train but we'll say so anyway so we can over charge you'. I wonder how long they'd last if they could only rise prices by the percent at which customer satisfaction had gone up...

17) Orange- I know how networks work and know exactly how to fix my internet problem but I need Orange to reset the system to do so. They think I don't know how to connect and if I move two feet from the router the connection should end (the fact that I could get a stronger signal from houses two streets away was met with awkward silence).

18) People who stop and stand in the doorways, the bottom of stairwells and in the middle of the pavement- Surely evolution must have dealt with people like this by now?

19) The British Public- 'Oh wah wah wah the evil public sector bankrupted the economy and are taking all our money while go to hospital, expect our children to have a good education and want our wheelies bins collected in a timely fashion'. I have only this to say...

Writer's Block

I hate it.

I really hate it.

I don't even know what to say here. I have a few ideas for articles but when I tryto write...nothing.

I have a mountain of work to do for uni as well but all I want is a nap.

I'm not even reading the news at the moment.

Choice and all its Consequences

So I'm a fairly indecisive person.

I don't like decisions because being a naturally insecure person I always think I'll make the wrong one. Particularly as I've made some clangers in my life, especially in the last year.

Therefore the end of university is a particularly daunting. I never took a gap year and I was always so desperate to leave home from about thirteen onwards it was never a question about whether or not I wanted to go to university. I have very little entrepreneurial sense and despite dabbling in a Drama GCSE I never had an inclination to follow the cliched 'getting the bus to Big City to fulfill my dreams' path. Especially when its not really my dream to have strangers staring me on a stage or screen every night. I'm one of those weird people who don't like being in the spotlight; they'd rather give those who are the words to say.

I also thought university would be a good way to avoid the 'what do I want to do with my life' question.

However, now that my stay of execution is almost over and I'm being forced to face the question I've been avoiding the past twenty one years.

And to add insult to injury now I have more choices than I did three years ago. Although admittedly most of them involve money I don't have.

Even with this recession which probably likely to doom us all for all eternity if the Guardian is to be believed I could go into any industry that accommodates slightly temperamental creative types.

That is if the recession ever ends mind.

With all these options therefore it makes more difficult to make a decision and has been almost giving me nightmares these past few months. However, now that I've reached the grand old age of 21 I'm feeling a lot more zen about it.

I'm old now, there is no avoiding it. As my darling sister pointed out I'm halfway to 42 and a third of the way to 63. Now that the flower of my youth is wilting I'm less worried about the future. I've lost a bit of the mad rush to make a decision. The beauty of having choice is that you can wait and see what you feel like.

Going back to Harrogate doesn't seem so terrible anymore. Of course its still a town that believes that the introduction of a Tesco will bring doom to us all but its a pleasant and safe enough place to mull things.

Hope I won't have to do so much work experience as well.

Responsibility

As usual I'm having a crisis about what I want to do with my life and in this particular instance I'm worried that employers won't like me.

I need to start being realistic, I'm not going to be a journalist so my best bet is a marketing job somewhere. But as employers are obsessed with responsibility how exactly do I prove that I am responsible? I've held down a job, an internship and gone volunteering in Africa in a number of roles you could define as responsible but how do you prove it?

I sometimes feel like my CV is pretty wishy washy. Apart from my internship, everything seems to geared towards a career that will never happen and I have no proper experience running a society or anything so what exactly do I have to offer?

Looks like I'm doing a Masters then.

You Know You're A Ridiculous Person When....

...you start empathising with characters in the ridiculous tv shows you watch.

I realised that this summer when I realised I empathised with Blair Waldorf.

Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl.

The same Blair Waldorf that runs around concocting absurd schemes to 'takedown' people if they attempt to ruin the life of her best friend Serena or herself, who gets a chauffer driven town car around Manhattan and allegedly attends Columbia University (one of the most pretigious universities in the world) but only ever seems to go shopping and look down on poor people.


Don't get me wrong, she's one of the best TV characters ever created but I would never normally identify her. Especially in the situation she'd got herself in. Her dilemma was the three different men who were in love with her. Her true love the billionaire (who she will ultimately go back to in the end because they always do and you know, its Chuck and Blair- if you watched GG you'd understand) wants her back but she instead longs for the stability the french prince/her fiancee(yes really) will provide but (as much she does love him) it is not the same love as she felt for the billionaire. And then there is this penniless writer (who was also the above mentioned best friend's first love and current step-brother, as well as been the adopted step-brother of the billionaire) who is in love with her also and she is completely obvious and doesn't return his feelings.

Still with me?

However, I do understand her dilemma about choosing between what you want and what you should want. Luckily for her its all being handed to her, I unfortunately don't have that option. But I think it is good that the producers made her choose the nice, safe prince (for now at least). Its more realistic (if you take out the prince part) because what you want isn't always the best option. Its destructive and more often than not it'll not work out and go up in smoke. He make take two years to tell you he loves you, he may destroy your preexisting relationship with your first boyfriend who happens to be his best friend (and this boyfriend also lost his virginity to your best friend at a wedding and later started dating her three years later after she ends her affair with his married cousin- I love this show) or maybe he'll trade you to his dastardly uncle for control of his hotel.

Or maybe these things only really happen in Gossip Girl.

Anyway the point is, choosing the safe option isn't always a bad thing. I remember back in the summer when Wendi Deng turned into a ninja in parliament in order to defend Rupert Murdoch from his not-quite pie in the face. I read a piece in the Independent Viewspaper about settling. It was very sarcastic but the essential point was: if Wendi Deng is settling who are we to judge her? I doubt she married Murdoch for his looks but he gives her stability and maybe she never wanted love. She's a bit too scary for love I think.

The point of this very, very long ramble is; what we think we know we don't. I'm not a cynic, I do believe in love I just don't understand it and I am starting to think all the energy, poems and love letters that go into it really can't be worth it. It always ends, whether its on his deathbed after 60 years, when he runs off with his secretary after 20 years or when he gets bored after 2 months. If it happens, it happens but maybe in certain cases your better off with comfort and stability.

Even if your prince is kinda a wuss.

Finally, what provoked this late night ramble? Downton Abbey o'course! I'm identifying with one of them at the moment (won't say which one- not the angry footman or the wet ladysmaid though) but its mainly because the preview next week featured a line by the excellent Maggie Smith (there should be a spin off where they exclusively follow her around all day) where she says 'I'm a women, I'll be as contrary as I like!'

I can't help but agree.

COPYWRITERS

I get paid to write stuff now, it’s almost like I'm a real journalist.

In other words, I've become one of the elite band of copywriters. It pays reasonably well given it’s around £15 per article and I can write one in around half an hour depending on the length and how much I concentrate.

It’s weird, I always saw copywriting as something 'grown up' journalists did to supplement their incomes while I had to stick to writing for free. It’s nice in a way, to be paid for something that may actually benefit me in the future. I always thought that the only way I'd be able to alleviate my poverty would be in a shop being verbally abused by stupid customers who don't understand how basic economics, business or common decency works.

Although I'd say it would be hard to make a living out of it, the jobs come in a bit sporadically and you have to be basically sitting refreshing your email to get them. However, with a bit of luck and perseverance you should be able to make a small income for yourself.

Maybe if I devoted myself to being a serious freelance journalist full time I could fashion a living out of it. There are so many good websites to write for out there and they make it is to work from home.

It probably won’t get me out of debt or be a significant contribution to the ‘save-for-the-future’ fund I started when I got my first job at sixteen that has been gradually depleting over the past few years.

However, it will probably allow me to buy more shoes and is there really any great reward than that?

Home Alone

I've got a confession to make: I've never seen Home Alone.

Shocking isn't it? That a child of the nineties, one who spent most of them in USA no less, could not have seen such a proverbial classic which remains one of the highest grossing films of all time.

However now the cold germs have really started to affect my brain I definitely think I'm hallucinating. I noticed food on the counters that I swear I did not put there. Curtains have been opened that I swear I did not open.

Now it could be the friendly poltergeist Bob, that I created back when we moved to the house in 1999 to scare my little sister (I was always such a nice, caring big sister)messing with my head or perhaps it is some comically inept burglars?

I am fairly out of it at the moment having no one to take care of me in my illness and have run out of painkillers (the shop is a forty minute round trip- I hate living in the suburbs) so my head is currently throbbing.

I have actually taken the day off writing (apart from this) as I doubt that much of what I am writing is coherent.

I don't like being alone when ill. I have never been the type to say 'Oh look at me, woe is me' when I'm ill but it would be nice if there was someone to cook me dinner (which I can't even do when I am healthy) and do my washing while I curl up in bed and will the headache to go away.

Blah

I feel blah.

My parents are away on holiday and I'm alone in my house and am currently struggling to spend more than half the day out of bed.

I don't feel ill as such, although I do have a sore throat, I just feel blah.

I'm tired, every part of my body aches, when I'm not asleep, I'm reading in bed or watching TV curled up in my duvet watching television.

I'm doing no work either, even though I am ridiculously bored. I have a list of articles to write and investigate as well as having to read the entire collected works of Virginia Woolf in the next three and a half weeks but I've managed to only write 250 word blog post about a bookshop closure that I'd read about on the Guardian.

I suppose I need a holiday after doing some much work experience this summer (7 weeks and counting, I've got another one on the way next week) but its miserable outside. It's raining and it doesn't change how bored I am.

I don't really like stopping, I've always liked being busy. I get bored too easily.

But maybe if I'm getting down, ill and blah when I do stop maybe I should down......

Nah, I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Kiss Me? No: Germany Bans Kissing

Germany has been questioning it's workplace decorum this week after The Knigge Society (why does everything official and German have to sound so comic?) called for a ban on kisses on the cheek in places of work as it can make greeting colleagues and business partners uncomfortable for many.

The society's Chairman, Hans-Michael Klein said he received many worried emails from workers who were uncomfortable with the practice and liken it to form a form of 'terroism'.

He said the practice was something that came in from France, where two kisses are common and Italy, where in some parts three is the norm and it "is not typical German behaviour".

Although I do have to say that the terrorism allegory is a tad extreme I do find my self agreeing with any legislation that may prevent people I don't know touching me even if its an over step into personal liberties.

It's not just kissing, I don't like it when people hug me when they don't know me, when they pat my arm, even when they sit next to me on the train. I don't like an aura of physically proximity to other people.

This may surprise some people as I'm normally quite a tactile person once you get to know me. I will always hug and kiss people I actually like and it means absolutely nothing in particular other than general affection.

But because I associate physical contact with friendliness and affection I don't want strangers anywhere near me.

They are not my friends, they do not know me, I don't know where they've been. So they can't spread their germs all over me.

I'm quite in favour of a 'social distance zone'.