Update

So.
I'm back at university after a wonderful Easter break. I had a great time travelling up and down the country, catching up with all my school-friends and generally staying as busy as possible. With the new medication I'm on, my oversleeping became more under control and I generally felt a lot better.

Now, two weeks into the new term, I'm studying for my upcoming exams. I'm stressed, naturally, but in general I'm not doing so badly.

My partner and I have split and we are now just friends. It's difficult living together and being this close when you are meant to be getting over each other. Having enough space isn't really a possibility right now, and won't be until the summer holidays. Still, we have a large amount of respect for each other and are being open and honest about our feelings, so it could be a whole lot worse.

I'm glad to report that things are nowhere near as grim as they were when I last posted. While my life is far from perfect, and I am still struggling, the improvement is excellent and I can't wait for all of this exam crap to be over so I can enjoy myself properly.

J xxx

Lad Culture

Where do I start?

I’ve been meaning to write something about lad culture for a while, and, with all the recent controversy surrounding the website Unilad, I think now’s the time.

At university, I’ve come across my fair share of laddishness. I’ve been at drinking games where men who haven’t been able to consume a large enough amount of alcohol have been labelled ‘pussies’ and guys (and even girls) who have managed the feat have been awarded so-called ‘lad points.’ (n.b. lad-points can’t be sewn onto a sash or proudly displayed on a star-chart!) I’ve observed male acquaintances make comments about passing females, using the language of rape and conquest: ‘I would absolutely smash her.’ And I see women being objectified every single day around my university town: in student publications, on student union posters, even in my house.

The difficulty with lad culture, as the Unilad scandal has highlighted, is that the whole thing is infused with a certain amount of humour. Ask many a ‘lad’ whether he’s against equality for women, and the chances are that they’ll be surprised you even asked the question. Lads don’t think they’re being sexist. They’re not about to question my right to vote, or infringe on my everyday freedom (although my boyfriend once was asked why he ‘lets’ me go to an LGBT group. Yep, I admit it! I frequently go and have gang-bangs with the homosexuals behind his back! Seriously. Grow up.) They just think they’re having a fucking good laugh, enjoying their youth, not taking themselves too seriously. Life, for the lad, is all about ‘The Banter.’ And that’s what is so utterly frustrating.

‘The Banter,’ of course, is like The Force. It’s a higher power that we can use to strengthen our popularity, top up our lad-point totaliser, and summon fit girls when they get a whiff of our Lynx.

Criticise lad culture at your peril. You will be labelled ‘boring,’ ‘humourless,’ and told that you ‘just don’t get it.’ Everything you could possibly complain about can be explained away by ‘The Banter.’ Take issue with rape jokes? Oh come on, lighten up, you boring fucker. Worried about the objectification of women in Nuts or FHM? Chill out, the girls love getting their tits out. Concerned that drinking games are a bit dangerous? Stop being such a pussy.

The situation is pretty bleak for the average lad-surrounded girl at university. With the opportunities to criticise laddishness highly stunted by the fact that ‘The Banter’ will make everything you say seem fucking ridiculous, you haven’t really got much choice but to go along with it. This is why Female Chauvinist Piggery comes in. If you haven’t already, please pick up a copy of Ariel Levy’s book. It isn’t very long and it explains how girls are now colluding in their own oppression, by simultaneously acting like men (lad-points for that bitch in the office, what a boss!) and being sexy for men to further their careers and be successful in everyday life. Every wondered why you feel like you’ve got to get a Brazillian? Lad culture wants you waxed. Lad culture wants you to look like a glamour model. Lad culture wants you to titilate it. And you’re letting the whole of lad culture and humanity down if you don’t get that fucking Brazillian.

I’m with Caitlin Moran on this one. I want a grown woman’s vagina, not a child’s.

Oh lad culture, how do we get rid of you? Through ‘the banter’ you’ve become imbibed with Essence of Cockroach. I just hope I’m not alone in hating you. I appreciate a sensitive man. I appreciate a girl who doesn’t collude in her own oppression. I appreciate a bunch of fucking pussies, frankly, and as for real pussies: I like ‘em hairy.

I’m glad that Unilad has finally got the comeuppance it deserves, and I hope lads everywhere start to realise that ‘The Banter’ doesn’t really make you powerful. It just socially lubricates you around other lads, and makes your life a hell of a lot less deep and fulfilling for it. It saddened me that a girl who commented on a Guardian article by a girl at my university, was immediately told to ‘shut the fuck up, you slut’ by some arsehole who, no doubt, loves being a lad. It seems that this controversy won’t be enough to mark the beginning of the end of lad culture, and that is bad news for women, feminists and decent people everywhere.

Also posted on tumblr, from my feminist blog (which needs updating more regularly!)

Why The Shame in Losing Weight?

I’m a slim girl. I always have been. Unfortunately, I’m also very conscious of every bit of excess fat on my body, and I am currently aiming to lose a bit of weight. Not too much, mind. Just enough to give me a bit more confidence and get rid of those flabby bits that every girl would rather the mirror didn’t show.

When I tell people that I’m trying to lose weight, I get a pretty discouraging reaction. “What?! You’re slim enough!” “You’re NOT fat.” “Haha, how ridiculous!” I like to explain that no, I am not fat. Yes, I am slim. But yes, I currently eat quite a lot of crap and don’t do enough exercise, so my optimum healthy body would look slimmer. It just would. It’s a fact.

I wonder why this is the case? Is it because obesity is on the rise, and I should be grateful for my slim figure? Or is because eating disorders are on the rise, and I should be careful not to slip into a dangerous cycle of starvation?

I think both matter. Weight, frankly, is a touchy issue. People get upset at the very mention of the idea. Moreover, I think the constant pressure to stay a certain size fuels anxiety in women. My friends, no doubt concerned about their own appearances, find it uncomfortable when I say I’m losing weight, because it draws attention to the fact that they’re not.

For an overweight woman, the pressure to lose weight is everywhere. “I lost five stone!” glowing women on the front of gossip magazines proclaim. Diets are everywhere, and you can’t turn on the TV without seeing a weight-loss advertisement of some kind, whether for weight-loss pills or even meals that will be delivered to your door. Hollywood and the fashion industry are a prominent reminder that your fatness is somehow your biggest flaw.

For a thin woman, seeing the same images as your overweight sisters is only going to fuel the pressure to maintain the thinness with age. The message is to cling to your most valuable asset: your tiny frame.

Size, however, should only be relevant in terms of health. If we’re too thin or too fat, we lack energy for all the things we do in our busy modern lives. Just because your friend is thinner than you does not mean she’s healthier. We all know girls who can eat like horses and stay thin, but why should we applaud that as a virtue? What’s wrong with having a bit of curve? I eat, and it stops me from being skin-and-bone. My body is well-nourished. So what if it’s not a size 6 (US 2)?

So why I am I trying to lose weight? I want to be at my optimum health levels, and I want to feel confident about myself. But is it the most important thing in the world? No. I will freely admit that I have more hang-ups about my body than I would like, especially as a feminist. But I know that it’s what’s on the inside that counts, no matter how cringey that sounds.

So next time a slim friend tells you she’s losing weight, don’t criticise her.

This was posted on tumblr ages ago. I thought I'd share it here.

Updates

I looked back on this blog this evening, and realised that it was no longer reflective of the person I have become, or, more accurately, the person I have un-become. I've changed the background, the title, and the description, in the hope of coming closer to the woman that I am. My 'about me' consists of nothing but the labels of which I am sure. Everything else is suspended.

I haven't deleted any of my former posts, even if they embarrass me. They were heartfelt at the time and I still believe in a lot of the things I said.

I'm going to post a few things I've written fairly recently on here, just to try and get the ball rolling again and get back to a position where opinions can flow freely.

As to how I'm doing at the moment: not great. My chronic depression doesn't seem to be leaving me, and concentrating on university work is such a struggle. I've been struggling on and off with self-injury, I can't wake up -- literally cannot -- until I've overslept, and I'm so exhausted that I don't know how I manage to wake up at all. Oh, and I'm still mighty confused about my sexuality. My partner and I don't have sex, because I don't want to. I don't know if this is because I'm completely gay, or because I have no libido because of my depression. I just don't know.

I'm trying to stay positive so I can get to the end of term and give myself the permission to completely relax. I have some exciting things lined up for the holidays, and I'm determined to be able to enjoy them and not have to pull out.

Thank you for reading

J xxx

I stir...

It's been a long time!

I put things on hold because I'd lost myself. Shortly after I stopped blogging, everything went even more wrong than I thought possible. Over Christmas I realised that I'd spent the first term of university doing something that I have never previously done in my life, because I disagree with it on principle -- being someone I was not. When I came back to university, I crashed. After a term and a half of self-harm, depressed paralysis, doctors' appointments, medication, mania, compulsive hair-cutting, a police search, chain-smoking, suicidal thoughts, weeping and insomnia, I was sent home by my university college to rest and urgently seek professional help. My first-year exams were postponed until August.

I haven't seen a psychiatrist, only GPs and a psychotherapist, so I'm so entirely sure of the exact name of my condition, but for the time being I'm working on the diagnosis of Generalised Anxiety Disorder leading to clinical depression. Life has suddenly got so much harder for me, and although I am so much better than I was three months ago (I'm able to laugh again, able to get out of bed), a simple thing like meeting up with friends is often a cause of distress, and I am still wracked with constant physical pain as my muscles are in constant spasm from anxiety. I'm at least not reclusive. I've even been able to go clubbing again, if with caution. I have hope, something I didn't have when I was sitting in the bath dragging a razor across my shin.

I have not been entirely dead to the world, and I have been very good at keeping up with my tumblr. I have also gone vegan since I last posted on here, which is definitely the best decision I ever made. I have never enjoyed food more and I really feel like it's sparked a hell of a lot of passion in me. Most surprisingly, I acquired a boyfriend, something I never thought would happen. He has stayed with me while I've been too down to get up, wiped my tears, brought me cups of tea and taken me out for day trips. He has taken enormous emotional strain and has even ended up ill himself, also seeking help from the university. He's done it all because he loves me, and I cannot imagine a stronger or braver person than that. I, for one, am indebted to him and will always love him and his kindness. I struggle a lot with heterosexuality, because I still feel that I'm a lesbian or at least woman-leaning, and I still often find myself in terror of never being sexually fulfilled, but my heart is close to him as my best friend and the only person I can be with 24/7 without wanting to scream. Sometimes I panic, fantasising about women. Then I wonder whether it's me that's wrong, spoilt, fucked. I look at his gentle face and he's smiling at me, and his arms are so warm, and he makes me feel so safe. I wish I had someone to talk to, to express my concerns. I love him so much, and the thought of hurting him makes me feel sick.

A lot has changed. But I'm still me. I'm a passionate feminist and I care enormously about justice, and I want to change the world, one vegan meal at a time. I'm so grateful to those who have stuck by me, and although I'm hurt by the ones who haven't cared, I've learned to feel sorry for them.

End of personal story.

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