Actually...

Hmm, I'm thinking this through and I'm really not happy with this blog and what it has become.

I have become less intelligent, I think, or certainly less clear about my views, and less up-to-date with current affairs. I'm less self-absorbed these days too.

I'm not sure what it is, maybe it's just letting go of all the heavy stuff in life and letting myself free-fall. Simple things in the calendar have passed me by, and I'm living in a little bubble where nothing matters except my immediate environment. I'm worrying less, but I do feel like I've lost brain cells.

Such a person hardly wishes to write blogs on political and social issues, particularly when she is probably failing her Politics degree and feels like a total disgrace for doing NOTHING.

Maybe because I am becoming more superficial, or merely because I have put the 'deeper me' on hold, the future of the blog is thrown into question.

I've not had time or the atmosphere to write poetry (just as well, because I was never any good), and I've not made anything for ages because I haven't brought my sewing machine or materials to university with me. So what is this FOR?

J is still in here somewhere, but she feels separate from this blog.

I HAVE decided to try and keep up with the tumblr idea.

So perhaps this is goodnight, perhaps it isn't.

J xxx

Epic Fail

Desperate not to stop blogging, I tried tumblr and failed.

Basically, nothing is going to be happening till at least Christmas.

Sorry, punks!

Much love,

J xxx

More University

Unfortunately my life at university is so hectic that there is rarely time to update this blog with the expected lengthy articles. There simply isn't time.

I am putting Stardust, Tea and Confusion on hiatus until further notice, most probably the Christmas holidays or if an issue crops up that I must write about.

However, because I am still eager (or arrogant) enough to want to contribute to the blogging world, I have set up a much less complicated blog at Tumblr giving a tiny glimpse into student life. It takes a few seconds to update it, so it barely impacts on my schedule, but there will be no depth.

It can be found at http://wiltedporcelain.tumblr.com/

I am missing writing very much, so this is not the end!

Much Love,

J xxx

University

Sorry for the lack of updates. I have been settling into Durham and generally trying to make sense of my new life, so the blog hasn't been on the top of my priority-list.

However, I am pleased to report that I am very pleased with my choice of university, and that I have fallen in love with the city.

I will try and get back into the habit of posting regularly soon, but I cannot promise when or in what form!

Much love

J xxx

More Baking...

Here is a picture of my kitchen table earlier today as I made chocolate cupcakes.

Baking reminds me of my friends, and I am gutted I can't share my cake with them.

The cakes looked a lot better once they'd been iced!

I really need to go to uni now... I'm so lonely. :/

Jxxx

Lemon Cupcakes Mark One Week To Go

This time next week I shall be on the northbound motorway. The boot will be full of pots, pans, and my brand new mini-ironing board from Ikea. My dad and I will probably be listening to the Beatles or Radio 2, having one of our geeky dad-daughter-jukebox sessions for old time's sake. We'd be rich if we had a coin for every time we have had a discussion about whether Revolver or Sgt. Pepper is the better record. I hope Dad doesn't get too emotional, because I'm bound to.

The majority of my close friends are departing over the course of this weekend, and I feel slightly sad about being left at home even though I am not particularly looking forward to Freshers' Week (great: forced jollity). Still, this gives me plenty of opportunity to get into a routine, get as much sleep as possible and generally recover from all of the last week's partying and bittersweet farewells.

At the moment, I am unsure about the future of this blog. I am thinking of specialising more in particular areas or abandoning certain topics. I will keep you posted.

In the meantime, I have been baking yummy cupcakes with lemon icing (made with grated lemon zest and squeezed juice). Tasty! I got the groovy cases from Ikea while I was shopping for university stuff.

J xxx

Islamophobic Intolerance

There are some seriously stupid people out there.

No doubt you will be aware of plans by a small, and long may it remain small, church in America to burn copies of the Koran tomorrow. President Obama has said that such an act is against American values of religious tolerance and freedom, but Reverend Terry Jones of the 'Dove World Outreach Centre' claims that Islam is 'of the devil' and that Americans have a duty to burn its holy book.

Demonstrators in Kabul have responded by burning an effigy of Terry Jones in the streets, proving that hatred only begets hatred. Wouldn't it be wonderful if, for once, people celebrated our differences rather than burning symbols of each other?

Of course, it's easy for small-town folk in America, brainwashed by the emotive forces of fundamentalist Christianity, to believe that Islam is dangerous. However, look within the Bible, particularly some of the passages in the Old Testament, and see just how gruesome it can be. Just as many Christians reject violence in the name of God, many Muslims do the same. It's not the holy books that are the problem. It's extremism. And through his internationally controversial publicity stunt, Terry Jones is joining the ranks of the extremists.

Sad stuff :(

J xx

Elephants

I know that, sometimes, I seem like one of these pretentious alternative people who insists on having all those "lifestyle choices" to annoy your average Telegraph-reader (I genuinely like being a vegetarian, honest!). So it may not surprise you that I'm getting a bit fixated on saving the elephant this week.

Animal rights activists and people who care about the environment are often seen as a bit of a joke. I appreciate that scepticism gives the climate debate credit and that the green lobby can be guilty of outrageous scaremongering at times, but we are literally killing the natural world, and whether this is making the world warmer or not seems irrelevant to the morality of it.

Saving the elephant is some serious shit.

Elephants have incredibly distinct personalities, and they have consciousness, like humans (this is tested with a mirror to see if the animal recognises that the reflection is not a separate creature). An elephant famously has a fantastic memory. They have imaginations, they play, they form specific friendships and bonds. They are gentle and caring, and are traumatised and bereaved when family members die. They live almost as long as humans do. And they have the longest gestation period of any mammal (imagine being pregnant for twenty-two months!).

The very fact that elephants are individual, conscious, sentient, intelligent beings means that, in my opinion, they have as much right to live on this planet as humans do. The problem is that many humans seem to think that they can abuse elephants. Poaching is a serious problem, with ivory in high demand, and elephants are still used in circuses. Elephants are also being driven out of their natural habitats by --big surprise-- humans.

I watched Elephant Diaries on the television the other day and was enchanted by how special these animals are. The idea that they are endangered saddens me tremendously.

Fortunately, there are many people out there trying to save the elephant. The Elephant Parade in London is attempting to raise awareness of the problems facing the Asian elephant.

Please watch this video and sign the petition!

J xxx

Heartbeat

She'd seldom detected the desperate ticking

Of those hands, held prisoner in the mechanism

Of a lifetime.

Yet she heard it smash,

Heard it fall from it dizzying height upon the wall,

Heard the moment the ticking ceased.

The clock-corpse returns to her in those moments

When the world seems to stop yet the heartbeat races,

Compensating for the uncertainty of time.

For though she clings to the faint ticking of her soul,

She is electrified in those tiny moments of memory,

Those tiny fragments of the life she could have had.

Even in her world she cannot resist those ultimate

Cogs as they turn, very much alive, in the midst of reality.

As the days go by, so the electric shocks become mere

Static jolts in her heart. The pain begins to ease,

But the ticking is fainter than before the clock fell.

***

I wrote this earlier in the summer. Apologies for my ongoing overuse of time-imagery! I thought it would appropriate to post it now, with the move to university almost upon me.

It's essentially about how the pain of a moment becomes more and more significant until it has taken up a person's life (and time), but how eventually that moment is free to become just a moment once again, set in time in its rightful place. Yet the person is never quite the same as before. Obviously it's about my own personal experience, and the importance of moving on in life.

Hello, university.

J xxx

Growing Up...

I am getting a life.

Later today I am going to establish a student bank account, the first current account I have ever had. This is because I am lazy and have always relied on cash in my purse, as I never bothered to try and understand banking. I have read the information I need and I actually feel quite satisfied by the concept of finally getting my act together... It's time I got responsible.

I am also beginning to compile a mental list of stuff I need for university and beginning to enrol for my course. There is so much to do, so many forms to fill out...

I have never been so desperate to do something as this. I can't wait. Obviously, I am terrified about the thought of trying to make friends, but I am really looking forward to it.

Little J is disappearing. It's strange when you can actually feel yourself growing up. During my childhood I didn't notice the process of changing from a little girl into something resembling a young woman. But now I'm preparing to leave home and start afresh, I suddenly am hugely aware of all the changes going on in and around me. It's quite frightening, in a way.

J

xxx

Festival Fun

I have just returned from the Greenbelt Festival, an arts festival with an emphasis on social conscience and inclusivity, and I've had a marvellous time!

Me relaxing in a queue!

Just as Greenbelt was getting started we saw a spectacular rainbow. It was a complete arch, and extremely bright, with a second, fainter rainbow at its side. Although I tried to capture the moment in photographic form, my camera is not powerful enough to do justice to how beautiful it was.

Pretty!

Talks

I had the pleasure of hearing Clare Short speak on two separate occasions. One of her speeches was on the difficult Israel-Palestine issue, and her view that we should be boycotting Israeli goods in order to achieve a solution. The second was part of a discussion about electoral reform and Short's views on proportional representation and the possibility of major political changes in the near future. Clare Short is an inspirational speaker, famous of course for resigning from Blair's government over Iraq, and a woman who truly understands the nastiness of politics.

I also had the opportunity to hear controversial human rights campaigner Peter Tatchell. For many years he has been famous for his outspoken campaigning, mostly on LGBT issues. This particular talk was on the subject of queer rights (or lack thereof) in Africa. Although I do not agree with all of his opinions, particularly his often mendacious criticisms of members of the Anglican church, Tatchell is a key figure in highlighting the massive inequalities in humanity. While the picture is bleak, there is cause for hope, and the tent was full of people of all ages and sexualities who felt inspired. Many gay people came forward to give their own testimonials.

Fun!!!

On Sunday, I went to see Milton Jones, comedian of Radio 4 and Mock the Week fame. His series of surreal one-liners and amusing flip-chart doodles had us all in stitches. My friends and I managed to get into the queue reasonably early, which meant getting good seats in the balcony of the venue after a long-ish wait. We left feeling considerably happier, and sillier, and were delighted to have the chance to get to see some comedy at Greenbelt.

Yesterday afternoon we headed down to the Mainstage for Sing-a-long-a-Grease, which did what it said on the tin! As we watched the film on a big screen, lyrics appeared for the songs. There was a great feeling of togetherness as hundreds of people of all-ages gathered to join in. We all got on our feet for a rendition of Greased Lightening, complete with dance moves.

Jiving in front of Grease. You can see my friend Rach in her penguin hat!

Last night we had the joy of the Rockabilly Grand Ball. As a bit of a 50s-freak I'd been looking forward to this for ages. We began by jiving around to all the classic rock'n'roll hits, before the Dodge Brothers (featuring BBC film critic Mark Kermode on double bass and harmonica) appeared on stage for one of the most entertaining music sets I have seen. Everyone was dancing and enjoying the infectious brand of skiffle and blues. After the ball, my friends and I went to grab a cuppa in the Tiny Tea Tent, an environmentally-friendly mobile cafe with a hippy vibe and the best tea you can get at the festival.

The Tiny Tea Tent

As well as seeing music acts that I haven't mentioned and helping out in the G-source charity tent, we had a great time soaking up the atmosphere of the festival and browsing the various stalls. We each (that is, the three of us) purchased a silly animal hat, and enjoyed eating a great deal of chocolate.

Behold my pig hat... which mostly sits above my face.

Can't wait for next year!

J xxx

Tea and Temperatures... and a Poem!

I met up with my friends today in our favourite tea room, which was absolutely lovely, but I have also come down with a temperature. It's a really strange illness because I don't have a cold or a sick-bug or anything, I just feel numb and achey at the same time, and slightly nauseous. It's not pleasant.

Anyway, enough of my moaning. I wrote yet another Diamond Dogs-inspired poem earlier. It was a kind of two-minute activity so it's not particularly great, but I like some of the ideas in it (because they are Bowie's and not mine)...

***

Nights falls and

Once again we are here,

Clutching the remnants of our shattered futures,

Screaming as our skeletal sisters writhe in the doorways of

Those sterile skyscrapers.

You screeched into the cracked canvas of the night,

Shattering those infertile star-dots with your voice,

Breaking into the red desert of the polluted horizon,

A stark reminder of the bird-cries we have lost.

Graphically yours, we pray that you will sing,

Soften the shrieks and hum lullabies that will

Soothe us in our insomniac starvation.

***

Again, most credit goes to Bowie. <3

Dystopia pretty much made my life...

J xxx

Nature is a language, can't you read?

I've been playing the ukulele today, to banish some of the boredom I've been experiencing over the weekend.

My favourite tune to play at the moment is 'Ask' by The Smiths, because it's so simple (pretty much four chords, with an extra one thrown in for good measure). This is one of my all-time favourite songs anyway.

I really hope that I get good on the ukelele so that I can jam with my dad, who is annoyingly good at it, and also happens to play the guitar-- a skill that I have tried, and failed spectacularly, at gaining.

At some point I will think of something decent to post, or will be inspired by something I see.

J xxx

Book List of Doom

This morning I got the information about my modules for my first year of study at university. When I had finished being intimidated by how hard the course looks, I began to freak out about the length of my book bill. Oh dear... I can already see the student debt piling up into a massive mountain of doom.

I have mixed feelings about embarking on my course, but I am hugely excited about the prospect of living the student life. I am very aware of how horrible the places-scramble has been this year; I am extremely grateful for the opportunity that I have got and will try to make the best of it.

J xxx

Panic Over

Much to my relief, I've got the grades I needed for Durham. I didn't perform massively well this year, but my AS results were good so I'm in the clear. Thank God.

To celebrate, I'm off out in town tonight with the rest of my year-group. It's a fancy dress theme, and I've decided to go as Adam Ant. Because I am that cool. I'm very much looking forward to doing my makeup tonight... any excuse!!!

I've had many crazy outfits over the past few months (see my Queen of Hearts outfit below) and I never tire of the fun!

I intend to do some hardcore baking this afternoon. I know how to celebrate in style.

God, I LOVE DRESSING UP.

Best of luck to everyone for their futures.

J xxx

The Joy of Music

I get my A-Level results tomorrow, and I am absolutely terrified. My body is doing weird things, that are mostly outside of my control, and my quality of sleep has been really poor. I want to go to university SO much it hurts. I'm going to be inconsolable if I don't get in.

To distract myself, I'm having fun being an uber-vinyl geek. I'm listening to my iPod, plugged into my hi-fi, as I type because it saves me having to get up to turn a record over, but I've been having great fun listening to the b-sides of all my Beatles singles this morning. When I listen to the Beatles, it feels like Christmas. It's better than Christmas, because these days Christmas is a bit rubbish. If I need cheering up, sitting cross-legged on the floor like a little girl opening her presents and placing the needle on the plastic grooves is one of the best things I can do (short of baking: the most therapeutic activity in the world). I am in total awe of them. I just don't know how they are so damn GOOD after nearly fifty years. I want to hug them.

I'm listening to an overdose of 80s electro and New Romantic right now, because I'm loving all my classic rock and pop as I find it much more comforting that even my most beloved modern music when I'm not on top of the world. I guess it's probably because I've always been into it, I grew up with it, and it's always there like an old friend. And it's still bloody amazing. I don't know why 80s electro is so damn good... if anything, it's a little bit shitty, with all the fake instruments and lack of decent lyrics. I guess maybe it's the beat. I love the bass-line on Chant No. 1 by Spandau Ballet and the way Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark make their synths sound beautiful and varied, like a landscape.

Synthpop originated as a mainstream movement in the late 70s, even though bands had begun using synthesisers in the 60s (Beatles!). Once again, we have David Bowie to thank for his pioneering musical experimentation. After he'd abandoned his glam rock and plastic soul, he branched out into androgynous art-rock, and his use of synthesisers on Low and Heroes led to the huge influx of synthpop bands such as The Human League, Depeche Mode and Eurythmics, and New Romantic bands like Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet and Adam & the Ants. In fact, Bowie seemed a little bit annoyed that so many bands had taken his style and dumbed it down (his song Teenage Wildlife can be interpreted as a dig at all the young synth groups around), but I think inspiring such a golden form of pop is something to be proud of. 80s electro is still big today, and new artists are looking back thirty years for inspiration.

My geekiness went to new levels this morning when I started to sort through my vinyl and make a spreadsheet of it all... I've always been a bit of a freak in terms of organising my vinyl and CDs alphabetically, and then within each artist organising it chronologically from first album to be released to most recent. But actually using Excel to catalogue it all... I deserve to be shot. Still, I will go to extreme lengths to distract myself!

Also, both my parents are now into EA: Dad came into my room last night and asked me if I could put Enchant on his iPod. It seems my good taste in music is genetic.. ;)

xxx

When in Rome!

Greetings ye web-surfers!

I have just returned from Italy, where I visited Naples, Pompeii and Rome. Rome has now become my favourite city, and I am eager to go back there as soon as possible. It is absolutely beautiful, packed with history (history makes me drool) and as romantic as they say. I've been cramming Italian sightseeing into six days, meaning I have walked about seven or eight kilometres in intense sunlight everyday, in less than supportive footwear, and I now ache a bit.

I don't want to sound all pretentious or anything, but Rome really got me thinking about the incredible creative power that human beings have. The architecture and artwork in the city is really astonishing. Obviously, the Sistine Chapel is renowned for the quality of Michaelangelo's painting and I really did appreciate craning my neck to see God and Adam, but sometimes the less obvious creative works are the ones that bring the most joy. There were some beautiful examples of early religious paintings in the Vatican museum, and I enjoyed looking at the Caravaggio works in the end chapel of St. Luigi's church. Simple things like the elegance of a Roman column or cobbles on a street really caught my imagination, and as a complete sucker for anything beautiful or romantic, I lapped it all up like the cat who got the cream.

Another thing that I found powerful about Rome, and indeed the ruins of Pompeii, was the frightening power of time. I know I'm slightly obsessed with this subject, but once again I was reminded of how nothing lasts forever. My travelling companion Rachel made a comment as we were walking around: "Rome has more ancient ruins than it knows what to do with." It's true. You can be walking along a modest street or through a park and you will come across more ruins, unmarked, unimportant within the great ancient network of Rome. Everything is slowly crumbling over the years, and, while every effort is made to preserve the ruins, it would be naive to say that keeping all of it entirely sustained for another two thousand years is likely. Ironically, the destructive force of Vesuvius, which wiped a town and its inhabitants off the map, led to the preservation and discovery of Pompeii. Now it has been unsurfaced Pompeii is deteriorating, and, while there is plenty more to excavate, archaeologists are choosing to preserve the existing ruins of Pompeii rather than dig up more of it. Rachel pondered, "What will our buildings look like in two thousand years time?" It's quite a frightening thought.

Before I get carried away with trying to be deep, I will mention that the food in Italy is outrageously good. In Naples, I managed to get the most delicious pizza for €3. The prices were higher in Rome, but it was still worth every penny. And the gelato... Don't get me started on the ice-cream!

This was the beauty I had on Saturday!

I had a wonderful, if exhausting, trip in Italy. I will definitely go back!

J xxx

Glamour Modelling

I'm long overdue a feminist post, so here we go!

This morning, because I am a sucker for a crappy BBC Three junk documentary, I decided it would be fun to watch Glamour Models, Mum and Me on iPlayer. As the title suggests, the programme follows the fourteen-year-old daughter of glamour model Alicia Douvall. Unlike other mums, this woman is addicted to plastic surgery, has eyebrows and lipstick tattooed to her face, and wants her daughter Georgia to follow in her footsteps.

"Britney had her boob job at sixteen," Alicia says without much expression (after all, her face is paralysed), "which means it's only two years till you get a boob job." Hmm. She's also full of great advice for her daughter: "A woman is very powerful," (so far, so good) "This," she says, pointing to her body, "will get you far. That's the most important lesson you can teach your daughter." Oh dear...

Apologies if the wording is not quite right. I can't be bothered to rewind the programme and write the exact quotes.

There is hope in the form of young Georgia's brain, but it's painful to watch. She's a keen student, and repeatedly tells her incredulous mother that she does not want plastic surgery. Alicia wants Georgia to be an actress or a glamour model, and tells her that her chemistry homework is a "waste of time." When Alicia's breast implant flips and the family have to spend at least three weeks in LA, Georgia gets tearful at the thought of missing so much school. "I'll buy you clothes," Alicia says as consolation. Georgia's face says it all.

I'm not trying to criticise someone's parenting. After all, I'm not a parent myself and would have no idea how to raise a child. Instead, rather than focusing on Alicia Douvall's approach to bringing up Georgia, I'm focusing on the wider infections in society which causes stuff like this to happen. What kind of messed-up world do we live in? Why is it that women feel that their body is their ticket to success?

It's not that I have a problem with women taking pride in their bodies. God knows that would sound hypocritical as I am a bit of a poser myself. I'm not going to say that it's a good thing that I care so much about my appearance, because I know it's society that's done it to me and I know it's not always healthy. But what many models, especially glamour models, have in common is the feeling that their bodies are all they can rely on. Some people are, by society's standards, beautiful. Yes, some people have plastic surgery to feel beautiful even though they really look like deformed dolls. Some people just don't care, and that's enviable I suppose. But whatever we look like and whatever our approach to how we look, the human personality is the most important thing. Whether we are male or female, and whatever we look like, we all have our own intelligence. Whether we're academic or not, we all have talents and it is our determination, practicality and belief in ourselves that should, and does, get us places.

Alicia Douvall preaches that her body is her ticket to success. But is she happy? This woman breaks down at several points in the programme, acting like a stroppy teenager, and has deformed herself to feed her constant need for plastic surgery. As Georgia astutely puts it, "Surgery is a therapy that she doesn't need." The addictions and insecurities come from a childhood of abuse. It's not as simple as "being shallow."

If society nurtured a confidence in what's on the inside, especially in girls, perhaps we wouldn't have this messed-up glamour modelling culture. Perhaps people like Alicia, who have had painful childhoods, wouldn't feel the need to seek comfort in something that only brings more unhappiness.

The programme closes with Alicia having the shocking revelation that "Nine times out of ten, signing up to glamour modelling is a really bad idea." She tells Georgia that she doesn't need to "sell out." But how many programmes will it take before young people realise that glamour modelling is not a healthy aspiration?

Oh, I love a bit of junk TV.

J xxx

Raspberry Cupcakes

Last week I finally acquired a copy of my favourite recipe book in the world, Cupcakes from the Primrose Bakery. I've already posted the Earl Grey cake recipe from it, and now I've tried these AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS beauties, I thought I'd post them too!

Please have a go at them. You won't be disappointed. And you must make the white chocolate icing because there is something magical about the combination of white chocolate and raspberry. Yum.

Raspberry Cupcakes

(For 12)

110g unsalted butter, at room temp.
180g caster sugar
2 large eggs
125g self-raising flour, sifted
120g plain flour, sifted
125ml semi-skimmed milk, at room temp
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3 tablespoons good-quality seedless raspberry jam

TO DECORATE:
Raspberry jam (one teaspoon per cupcake)
White chocolate buttercream icing
Fresh raspberries

-Cream butter and sugar in a bowl for 3-5 mins until pale and smooth
-Add the eggs one at a time, mixing between
-Mix the flours together in a separate bowl
-Add vanilla extract to the milk
-Add 1/3 of the flour mix and 1/3 of milk to main mixture and stir
-Repeat till all used up
-Fold in the jam until most of it is combined. The idea is to have some jam streaks running through the mixture, rather than an evenly coloured batter.
-Bake cakes until golden brown and firm
-When they are done leave to cool then cut a small hole in the centre of each cake and carefully place a teaspoon of jam inside. You can warm jam first if you want.
-Ice the cupcakes with white chocolate buttercream and top with the raspberries

ICING

100g white chocolate
60g vanilla buttercream icing (consisting of butter, icing sugar and vanilla essence)
3 tablespoons double cream

Melt chocolate, mix into the buttercream icing, add cream and mix until very smooth and thick.

Enjoy!

J xxx

Gayest Post In A While

"What's being gay like?"

I love the Flanders and Swann parody from The Armstrong and Miller Show. This particular sketch closed the final episode of Series Two with lots of sparkle! I love these guys. I love how Armstrong rolls forward in the wheelchair while singing "who does what to whom." Genius.

I get asked lots of questions about homosexuality. It doesn't really bother me, but I think people think it's drastically different from being straight with different rules. Yes, it's different, but it's also the same. I think everyone has their own unique sexuality, and "gay" and "straight" are a little too black-and-white. Very few people are exclusively hetero or homosexual, and even if they are their sexuality will be much more complicated. Some people are madly horny, some people are asexual, some people only fancy people occasionally, some people fancy people but hate the idea of having sex, some people are sex-obsessed but hate the idea of emotional intimacy. Everyone is different.

I thought I'd share some of my own personal experiences here, not to sound like a narcissistic loser, but because personal experience is all I can really go on to explore the topic. It really interests me as a topic, and I love hearing about other people's experiences.

One of the questions I get asked a lot is, "What would you do if you fancied a guy?" This always strikes me as a little odd, almost as if the "right answer" is to seize the opportunity to be straight if it came my way. I was talking to one of my friends about this, and she pointed out that people ask the question because heterosexuality is the accepted norm so most straight people would suppress a gay desire if they got one, whereas it might not be the same the other way round. My answer to the question, however, is that I think I probably wouldn't go along with a straight crush unless it was so strong that I would never forgive myself. So if I fell madly in love with a guy, I'd willingly fall into his arms (such a bizarre thought!). However, as this is unlikely to happen, this is all hypothetical. If I got a slight crush on a guy, I'd probably ignore it because my whole identity, my world-view and my aspirations are all based around the idea that I want to spend my life with another woman: it's like my purpose. I would worry that my overwhelmingly gay sexuality would never forgive me if I denied myself that purpose. Would I spend my whole life feeling incomplete, like I’d sacrificed my whole sexuality?

Maybe this is wrong, maybe I should be open to sexual experiences outside of my cutesy little lesbian world. It makes for interesting debate!

Also, people ask me what it's like having to come out (because "certain folks' intolerance puts a spanner in the works!"). Answer: easy to some people, hard to others. I'm totally open with my peer group. Our generation is so much more accepting. However, I've not told my friends who live in other countries because I have no idea how they view homosexuality. Telling your parents is the hardest thing in the world, and fortunately I was spared that horrible inevitability thanks to a good deal of alcohol and a friend who can't keep his mouth shut! I don't really talk about it with my parents, although occasionally they will make a lame joke about it. I'm ironically a bit like a 1950s housewife, bustling around the kitchen in my polka-dot clothes making tea and cakes, and Dad always makes sarcastic comments about what a good wife I'll be.

My extended family don't know yet, but I don't see why they should because you don't generally discuss your straight sexuality with your grandparents (weird!), so why should I discuss my homosexual one? Coming out is an annoying process, and it has to be done, and sometimes people will make nasty comments or hate you for it when they don't even know you. But it does get easier every time you do it. The first time I ever told anyone was excruciatingly difficult, and I don't think twice about it now. It makes you stronger.

And as to what being gay's actually like: you fancy people, you fall in love, you get hurt, you have fun, you stare at hot people in the street, you set attractive people as your computer backdrop, you have celebrity crushes, you dream about getting married... It's just like being straight.

xxx

p.s. Speaking of celebrity crushes... yumyumyumyumyumyumyumyumyum

The Continued Saga of Bits and Bobs

Greetings, all!

I haven't updated for a while because I've been having fun in Shropshire, and I came back so exhausted and down-in-the-dumps that I could barely string a sentence together, let alone write a coherent blog-post. I've woken and cheered up a little bit today, so here's another offering of bits and bobs.

1) My spin-off blog, J's Creative Mess, has been updated (finally). I barely update this blog, and I can't be bothered to add all the stuff I've made since the last post before today, but I will try and keep it better updated from now on.

2) I've been following the new BBC drama Sherlock, which places the famous detective in modern-day London with a Dr. Watson fresh from the War in Afghanistan. I was initially sceptical about the idea (as a hopeless romantic I quite like the whole gas-lamp and horse-drawn carriage thing) but was delighted to find myself enjoying every minute. Benedict Cumberbatch's performance as Holmes is true to Conan Doyle's original creation, and the scripts are energetic, full of suspense and also very funny. It's like Doctor Who for grown ups; the tall dashing hero and his fast-learning companion run around the city solving crimes with an air of enigma, and they're super-cool too. It's great. I've always loved Holmes, but in light of all the new excitement I've been reading the original Victorian version of A Study in Scarlet and enjoying it immensely.

3) Speaking of Victorians... While I was in Shropshire I visited my childhood favourite, Blists Hill Victorian Town. I've been there more times than I can count. It's an open-air museum that aims to provide an authentic experience of life in an ordinary town in the 19th century. I last visited in 2007 with my friend Rachel, and was keen to repeat the experience this time with Ellie. I was, however, disappointed to find that it has changed, and not for the better. The new visitor centre is rather pointless and extravagantly expensive, the new street is built in pastel shades that reminded me horribly of Disneyland, and they've even started building literal rides: a miniature train for kids and their unfortunate parents (how is a mini-railway authentic Victorian?!) and a model hay-inclined plane that, I believe, can be travelled on by visitors. The worst thing was the fish'n'chip shop that has sprung up on the new road, Canal Street. Fat British tourists can come and get their "authentic Victorian experience," and a good portion of chips. It annoys me considerably. Why do we always need everything to be a sugary, sanitised, "entertaining" experience? Tssk, there are times when modern life pisses me off.

Still, the old Blists is still there. The chemists, bank and doctors' surgery are still as they always were, and if you walk down to the bottom of the site the old squatter's cottage, toll house and the original hay-inclined plane can be found.

Despite the slight irritation I had a good day and purchased this card in the printers shop. (I can't work out to reverse the mirror image on Photo Booth, but you can probably work out what it says.)

I will try and write soon!

J xxx

The Internet

My internet connection has been down for five days, and it's been an absolute pain in the proverbial arse. Not only have I had almost no communication with the outside world (because the landline was down too and my rubbish £10 phone still works on a 10p-per-text credit system), but I have had no way of researching things, which I completely take for granted. No Wikipedia. No YouTube. No iPlayer. No matter how romantic my ideas are about "the good old days," and no matter how much I complain about technology, I am very dependent on the internet. I love it.

However, five days without the internet is, in the great scheme of things, not a great deal of time. After all, our parents' generation grew up without internet access, and millions of people across the world still don't have access to it. Interestingly, the BBC posted an article back in March in which it was claimed that the majority of people believe that internet access is a universal human right. This really interests me, because internet can surely be perceived as a luxury. I'm dependent on it, because I use it for the entertainment, communication and research that I enjoy. But if I didn't have the internet, and the right to use the internet, I'd still live. I'd still have a roof over my head, and I'd still think I had full human rights.

Yet, when people have the internet, they get informed. With the net, messages spread quickly, video footage gets spread, people become educated. While there are negative consequences of this--such as the spread of terrorism and extreme ideology--the internet is a great way of informing and connecting people all around the world, and makes it harder for governments to control the ideas of the people. Of course, China censors the internet to a shocking degree, but in general the internet opens minds. Does its impact make it a human right?

Interesting questions.

Aaah... it's great to have the net back though! It's lovely to sit down with a cup of tea and type away. :)

J xxx

Birdcages, Brain Cells and Summer

1) Argentina have legalised gay marriage! This is very good news for gay people in Argentina and across the world. However, it draws attention to the lack of gay marriage around the world and the massive inequalities that remain between gay and straight people. Please will everyone else hurry up and legalise what is, I believe, a human right?

2) For a while now, I've wanted a vintage birdcage to add to the general eccentricity of my bedroom. Finally, my wish has been granted! I'm so pleased with it. It's really big and just the right colour. I have no idea what I'm going to put in it, if anything. I shall hang it from my ceiling tomorrow! In the pic Lancelot is captive, but don't worry: it was a modelling job and he has now been released.

3) My childhood interest in the Titanic has had a bit of a resurgence. I know it's not massively historically relevant, but it's so interesting. There are so many myths and curses surrounding it, and there are lots of lessons that can be learned from it. I'm going to watch the film again with my family tonight. It's cliched and it's soppy but it's still the best film we have of the disaster, and Rose was my first ever crush back in 1999... so time to crack out the dark chocolate and the gin!

4) Mission for the next few days: grow some brain cells. I've spent the last two weeks drinking too much, and I feel like my head is mushed. It would help if I could stop drinking... I've already had two gins tonight and it's only a night in. But yes, I intend to get out the books and try and toughen up my brain again. I already smell failure (and booze). Wish me luck.

5) I can't believe I've finished school. The years at King's have been amazing and I am blessed with the most incredible friends and memories. Like Terra mentioned on her blog, I feel there is a huge gap in my life that I need to fill. I really want to have lots of fun this summer, but I'm really worried something is going to go wrong... Also, my straight friends seem to be having increasing success in pulling and I feel like I'm getting desperate. Still, I'm optimistic and I'm looking forward to going away to exotic old Shropshire with Ellie, Rome with Rach and of course Greenbelt with the pair of them.

6) I'll stop rambling now.

Love J

xxx

Oscillation

I have just returned from sunny Devon, having spent just under a week relaxing with my wonderful friends. There has been much hilarity and I wish I was still there.

The day before I set off for Devon, I wrote this poem in the dead time between breakfast and the school run, before my final paper. I think my brain was active, because of the impending exam, but completely unwilling to cram any factual information... so this was the result.

Oscillation

I am suspended in the dream called history,

Locked in the quantum cell between

Orphaned past and

Infinite future.

I am in the now,

The non-existent space around which the

Dimensions pivot

And I am trapped.

The hands of the clock are the sails of my boat

And I am lost at sea.

You and I are tip-toeing on reality together,

Exploring even as we lose the seconds

To the invisible reaper called Time.

We are never present but we are here,

Balancing all our illusions on our heads

Like water jugs, and clinging to the promise

Of tangible tomorrows.

J xxx

Bits and Bobs

Hello internet,

I don't have any ideas for a big post today, but I present to you some of the things I have been thinking about this week:

1) Victimisation of Old People

I find that I'm quite hardened to the news these days. However, one thing that is guaranteed to upset and anger me is the victimisation of old people, and I'm not sure why it gets to me more than other atrocities. Perhaps it's because old people are not innocent; they've lived and they've seen the whole breadth of human experience, they've gone through the hard slog of life, and now they are vulnerable and frail. There's something really horrendous about how someone can so easily destroy the dignity that an elderly person has spent their whole lives earning.

I remember watching footage on BBC News of an elderly cancer patient opening his door to a group of youths who then murdered him... it just breaks my heart, because old people have no choice but to trust other people and it's so sickening how people abuse that trust.

The most recent article in the news describes how a 94-year-old woman in Surrey was conned out of more than £176,000 by rogue traders.

Heartbreaking stuff.

2) Lesbian Health

It's not just old people who get a hard time in our society. Minority groups are engaged in a constant struggle against prejudice, and gay women are no exception. In our "tolerant" modern society, gay people are less likely to be ostracised or attacked for their sexuality, but there is still a worrying discrepancy in the physical and mental health of straight women and lesbians. I came across a report at Stonewall entitled Prescription for Change, published in 2008, which investigated statistics about lesbian health. Some of the more alarming statistics showed that:

• One in five lesbian women had deliberately harmed themselves in the last year, compared to 0.4% of the general population. That's really messed-up.
• One in five lesbians said they had an eating disorder, compared to one in twenty of the general population.
• Lesbians are five times more likely to have taken drugs.

There were also worrying findings about the way that gay women are treated by health professionals.

If our society gave out the right messages to young women, perhaps gay women (and queer people in general) wouldn't be any more unhealthy than straight people! Tsssk.

3) The Victoria and Albert Museum

Yesterday I had the pleasure of an afternoon at the V&A in South Kensington. Visiting the London museums is an accessible way to get cultured, because entry to the museums is free. Because I'm a reasonably arty sort of person, the V&A is my favourite London museum.

It is the world's largest museum of decorative arts and design, holding over 4.5 million objects from a 5000 year period. It's not merely an art gallery: it's bursting with photography, architecture, fashion, jewellery, sculpture, furniture and weaponry.

The building itself is marvellous, with a beautiful interior and exterior. Yesterday I enjoyed sitting in the John Madejski garden, which is enclosed by imposing and ornate walls and contains a large modern fountain; the perfect location for relaxing with an ice-cream .

The collections are definitely worth seeing. Being the retro-fashion-obsessive that I am, I made a beeline for the fashion collection, hoping to catch a glimpse of a 1950s dress or a Victorian corset. I was not disappointed, and I marvelled at some of the dresses, particularly the ones worn by pre-20th century women. The V&A is currently hosting an exhibition of Grace Kelly's dresses, and while I unfortunately could not get tickets to see this display, I did enjoy viewing this dress outside of the exhibit.

I took great pleasure, too, in the Theatre and Performance collection. There was enough dramatic memorabilia in there to keep me more than happy, from an original manuscript of The School for Scandal (my A-Level text!) to the first folio of Shakespeare's work. The highlight of the collection was Adam Ant's costume from Prince Charming, which delighted me because I am in love with his distinctive twist on the New Romantic style.

And of course, like any good tourist attraction, the museum has a great giftshop.

There are all sorts of curiosities in the V&A. I could write about it all day!

J xxx

Onwards

Having recently turned eighteen, I really wanted to write a poem about growing up and the difference between "then" and "now." Obviously a project like this is full of potential clichés -- it's a cliché in itself -- but I still wanted it to be heartfelt, and I hope it comes across that way even if the poetry itself is terrible.

A few notes on the composition of the poem:

• All of the quotes are from Patrick Wolf's album The Bachelor, which, like much of Patrick's music, contains the running themes of maturing, ageing and life as a journey and a battle.
• Section "Cc" is taken from a much longer poem I wrote, called Shadow Girl, which is basically about pathetic teenage angst and sexual frustration! I copied the bits which I thought made sense without the rest of the poem because I think I couldn't write a poem about growing up without this aspect of youth; and I couldn't be bothered to write an original new section.

Please try not to judge the poetry, it's more the ideas that I'm trying to express.

Cringe! J xxx

Onwards

“When all else fails

Remember

Always

The Open Road.”

Aa

“What keeps you? Explore!”

Funny, how my exploration was restricted

To the playground and yet I was

Never constrained.

In my lack of freedom I was free.

My body was decorated, almost tattooed

With grazes and bruises and splitting skin.

The girl with blonde hair

Bore the purpling bites of my milk teeth.

Supposedly I was, and am, a blank

Canvas with infinite possibilities

Yet conscience killed innocence

And paint can only hide the stains.

Strange, how there were more wounds

In those days but more soreness now.

There’s greater depth today yet

Less immersion in the abyss of the soul.

Bb

“You are not the maker nor the master of me.”

I roll the dice and move forward,

Clutching at my pride as I leap.

Occasionally I stumble across a ladder

And I ascend.

Even in nightmares I never expected

The snakes to come.

I try not to slide but I have no grip,

And I shield my eyes through the fall.

Still I walk tall through the maze,

Negotiating the twists and turns

As the dice goes on rolling

And the world keeps on turning.

Cc

“I don’t fear what tomorrow may take

Stay blind to my future and fate.”

Growing pains,

Shrinking pleasures?

From beneath the layers of my eclectic thoughts

You watch me take steps on my egg-shells,

Already fragmented dreams cracking anew.

I’m stumbling without you yet you’re ever-present,

Regarding my clumsiness with your dream-eyes.

I’m trying to conjure emotion from your non-existence.

“Come to me more, even come to me at all…”

My words echo in their own cold emptiness and

Deep within my sleep they come back and haunt me.

Pandora-like, I cling to the trace of hope flittering inside

And watch the faint flap of its wings as it circles around

My head and all the conflicting nonsense within my skull.

Dd

“Battle the patriarch, battle for equal rights, battle back your liberty, battle back the long night, battle the conservative, battle for your, battle the homophobe, but battle without war.”

The sparrow sings when it realises

That every bird is caged,

Every wing is clipped,

Every soul is lost.

We cannot know.

Adulthood is acknowledging the enigma.

We fight, we fight because without a fight

We are nothing.

And when we have fought we will anchor

Ourselves and

Sleep.