Wednesday, November 22, 2017


Quite pleased about the 2nd series of Glitch coming to Netflix. I enjoyed the first series and want to know where it's heading.

I used to think that Netflix would be a waste of money, but I do watch it a lot.

Really love The Expanse. Was so happy that the second series was shown. Need moah.

Smaller

Ann Widdecombe is smaller than you think. She got on my train today. That's the joys of first class. Ahem.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Friday, November 10, 2017

Read me some books

Catch up on reading -

I read Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino recently. It left me,  needing to digest for a while, which is a good sign. It really held my attention and I love an unreliable narrator. Oh yes, she confesses rewriting some of the other characters' narratives because, basically, their handwriting is poor. This was a recommendation by an online friend.

Then I read the Charles Stross, the Nightmare Stacks, which moves the series on an important stage. Always good fun. My boyfriend turned me onto the Laundry series.

Just finished Stone Cold Bastards by Jake Bible, which cannot be his real name. It was very bloody and violent, but enjoyable. I found this one through recommendation on John Scalzi's blog.

It's good to be reading again, I was in a slump of internet scrabble and sleep.

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

Huh

Once recently, when I was pootling along on foot, minding my own business, an elderly chap on a bike swished past and made an obscene mouth gesture at me. I didn't have time to react, it was really fast. (I am obviously scarred for life by it).

 I am puzzling over it for some reason today, and my question is, how does someone have that gesture on hand (on face), as it were, in their daily arsenal of facial contortions? Did he see me specifically and think "this is the face I shall show her"? How is it that's his split-second go-to face-pull, tho?

Maybe he does it a lot: I guess he could have been riding with intent to pull rude faces at women in a perpetual perplexing stream of unpleasantness. Oh agony, I am not his only one?!

 Huh. Baffled.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Yay

I'm divorced, I'm divorced, I'm divorced!!

Monday, June 12, 2017

Only be carried

"Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried." - Megan Devine I like that a lot. Found in an Upworthy article here.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

There is a Beautiful Thing and the story she tells about how it is in her house, on her hearth, by her feet, is not true. The story started almost as soon as we bought it. It was somehow not enough that it was a Beautiful Thing and that it spoke to her, to us, and she loved it. There had to be more.

And there is. It's a better story. A meaningful narrative addition that makes it make sense to spend that money on a Beautiful Thing with no utility.

 Other than its beauty and the story of how it came to be in her house, on her hearth, at her feet.

Funny the stories we tell ourselves to give that narrative arc to our lives. Sometimes we rip the whole thing up and rewrite. Is that benefit of hindsight, the truth we didn't see before, or rewriting history to suit our sense of self, as heroes of our own lives? (Well, who else is going to be.)

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Right on

Leather elbow patches, the '80s, hippie - ish leanings and Ben Elton.

Those are the things that bubble up about being 'right on'.
I'm showing my age.

 But it's a label I am comfortable with, despite it's fluffy wuffy,  butt of the joke connotations.

I've been the pc brigade.
 Which is often oddly conflated
 with elf and safety gone mad.
 I don't let you play conkers
or sing baa baa black sheep.
I'm banning Christmas!

 I look forward to winter for those populist daily mail lies.

Feminist was one that took longer to accept. Because feminists hate men
 and burn bras
and most ghastly of all,
have no. sense. of. humour.

But it's a warm bubble bath to me now,  it's where I belong*.

So these days, it's social justice warrior as a label I'm trying on. Hmm. Does it fit?

It does confuddle me that social justice can be seen as a Bad Thing.
 But you know what: it's cos we're Doing it Wrong.

Too shrill,
too serious,
no. sense. of. humour.,
taking it too far.

 It's always taking it too far.  It was fine up until.. When? You started feeling uncomfortable? We're living in a post-feminist post-racism world now.

Well apart from those folks.

But I'm alright Jack,  and you're giving me the sad in my feels.

The pc brigade, the social justice warriors - funny how we're all going to war. And there are lots of us, lots, hosts, like locusts, against - who?

 Not like the old days when I was right on and never did anything. Some of the marchers had balaclavas and rocks and the riot shields rattled and we weren't like that, but we were there, and my throat was raw.

Now I'm mowing down the unfortunate with my keyboard  . Cos that's all I do.

I'm thinking social justice warrior is a conflation with keyboard warrior, because that's the assumption, isn't it?

 Like words aren't important, but if they're not,  why is changing the language you use such a big deal, eh? What does it matter to you? And there are always more important things we should focus on and why aren't you doing something about that other thing.

But if it's true. That what we say makes no difference. Then.

It is like the old days when I never did anything, after all.
That's a relief.




* That said, as ever, when writing about being a feminist,  I feel the need to rush in and explain my feminism is intersectional. That patriarchy hurts men too with its toxic version of masculinity, where men showing emotion makes them weak, and they are stigmatised when not fitting into the rigid stereotypes. But I won't go on,  because this isn't an essay about feminism. Go read some feminism 101. There's plenty of resources. I'm not one.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

The sound of fire in words

The paper blackens, smoulders
Flicker-flames licking up
They whisper and sputter
Sing, whine and mutter
Your words
Into smoke.

Words of heat
Pain and desire
Burning hot
Shrinking me inside
Crinkled small
"I will never let you go"
Furl and billow
And gone.

Smell of kerosene
On my fingers
Ash smears on my hands
And face
Sink in the grate,
Singed scorched and sighing
Flames ebb dip and dying
Fall into embers
Exhale into ash
To float free.

Monday, January 09, 2017

Reading Record 2017

The Road - Cormac McCarthy

This felt very familiar, although I haven't read it before or seen the movie. I guess I read a fair amount of post-apocalyptic fiction. It was compelling - I read it in one sitting - but as I say, it felt quite familiar. The relationship between father and son was nicely depicted.

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Blue

"Women have very little idea of how much men hate them". - Germain Greer, The Female Eunuch This seems relevant today.
I feel quite defeatist.
I feel quite sad.

Thursday, October 06, 2016

Le cycliste

We saw a cyclist picking up onions on the way home, and I said to daughter - perhaps he's French? Jokingly. And then had to explain the French national stereotype of Frenchman on bike, with striped jumper,  beret and onions around his neck. 

Or was it garlic?

And we weren't sure,  but there is no reason a Frenchman couldn't have garlic to fend off vampires too. After all, vampires are very generally pretty refined and probably hang out in Parisian garrets.

But decided it was probably onions.

Of course, none of this answers why there were onions in the road.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Terf wars

I'm trying to figure out ...

Chloe Allen was recently widely reported as the first female infantry soldier in Britain. She is trans and came out after being discovered cross-dressing. She says she's glad it's panned out that way and is now undergoing hormone treatment. Which is great. Under recently changed rules, she gets to stay in post. Which is also great.

What I struggle with, is this - does it skew the picture for cis women to have someone taking that 'first' who didn't have the same set of challenges? Chloe certainly had (and has) her own challenges, but to get in post had a male physique and didn't face the sexism etc that cis women haven't yet even had the chance to deal with. The first possible intake of cis women to train for the infantry isn't until Nov this year, as I understand it.

I guess my misgiving is that it sort of looks like we're already there in equality / opportunities, but that's yet to be seen - and it erases the struggles that cis women face in the same situation. And I don't know, someone who 'passes' then comes out later in life isn't perhaps paving the way for other women - it's not a case of the glass ceiling being broken, so much as circumvented?

Does this make me a TERF? I like to think of myself as 'right on' and as an intersectional feminist, but I'm struggling with this.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

FB memes again again

"Bye bye, I deleted some so called friends over time, due to their way of doing things. Now I'm watching the one who will have the time to read this post until the end. This is a little test, just to see who reads and who shares without reading! If you have read everything, select "like" and then copy and paste this text on your profile, so i can put a thank u on ur profile,😘 I know that 97% of you won't broadcast this, but my friends will be the 3% that do. In honor of someone who died, or is fighting cancer, or even had cancer, copy and paste." 

 I don't know why this passive aggressive nonsense gets so much traction with Facebookers.
 I guess they must be passive-aggressive.
 But it's about Cancer!
So you can't be irritated by it.

 Blah.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

FB meme moan

"Dear men.... take the photo... 

 It doesn't matter what she looks like, or if she tells you no, take the photo. You may not think about it often, or at all honestly. But how many photos does she capture of you, of your family and of your life you've built. But when she is gone, those photos won't show your children the women who was behind the camera. 

Take the photo. Messy hair, no make up or a dirty old t-shirt won't matter to your children when she is gone someday. What will matter is that you loved what you saw enough to take a photo, to document it, to preserve that moment in time of the woman you love. No woman wants to look back at a lifetime of selfies. 

Do what she does for you every day, and snap a few moments in time. Be proud. Take photos of her. Before kids and after. Just take the photo...." 

 I kind of like and hate this. It's good to be positive about your family and your partner and to want to preserve those moments.

The thing is, if she tells you no - don't fucking over-ride her wishes. No is a very important word. Take fucking notice of it.  Even if she looks beautiful to you.

Make her feel like she is, all the time, and fucking respect her wishes, and then maybe she will be happier in front of the camera.

Why we need feminism (again)

Because whenever someone poses a thought experiment proposing some draconian measure that impinges obscenely on bodily autonomy, it is always by default the female body.

I give you:
"Do you feel that bio-implants be mandatory as a means of birth control? Do you feel a license should be required in order to conceive?"

Fuck off.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Sometimes I get it right

Often I feel like I don't do enough, aren't supportive enough, should be thinking ahead more of others' needs.

And sometimes I get it right.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Was it all a lie?

He said.
No, when I was in it, I was in it,  I was trying
I wasn't lying.

We open, I open,  he opens
Those dusty chests of you did this and I did that
And was _that_ when
You
Gave
Up?
He asks. Of each one.

Like giving up is the worst sin.

No, when I gave up
Was that moment
You know when:
OK, I said.

But you knew it wasn't.

And so! It's about the money

Sneering

But it's not that
 it's the weight of the past
and those chests in the attic flying open choking me with dust
and I can see no light for us,
for ME
and this new ending trips me and lies its heaviness on me,
and it whispers in my ear:

it
will
always
be
thus

And I know
I know
For the first time
I can do better on my own.




And you know what (suddenly angry)
Why am I so desperate to say it's not about the money?! I am hardly a fucking gold digger.
I am _tired_ of scraping around, of having nothing, of there being no progress and never anything left over, of nothing being sacred,
And listening to you spinning your schemes and from Peter to Pauling and feeling bad if I want something for the house and do we have enough money for me to take the kids swimming?
And it's all draining away through your fingers down the pub, but if we argue about it, it's not the pints and the smokes and the fucking gambling machines, it's my bottle of wine and groceries and petrol. Well fuck you.
Fuck you
Fuck you.

So yes it's about the money
And it's about the lies
And most of all about never keeping faith with me
about anything we agreed

There would always be a reason.

And FYI
I don't buy the bottle of wine these days.
I don't want it.

Sunday, May 08, 2016

Huh

I was very perplexed by Michael McIntyre's act last night, that had him complaining he looks Chinese when he's jet-lagged. On BBC at primetime. Just what?