Tamed

I used to write this blog a lot. Every day for practically a year I wrote an entry. Then I stopped, and despite my best efforts to write more regularly I have struggled. The reason for this is, I fell in love.

I found a boy, smooshed my lips against his for a few months, had a horribly awkward conversation about whether or not we thought we ought to be smooshing our lips against anyone else, decided we wouldn't, fell in love, moved in together and the rest is the future.

I haven't particularly wanted to write about it before because I found it difficult to write comedy when my ongoing aura was that of the smuggest Smuggerson that ever lived smugly in Smugville. My comedy persona was built out of being desperately miserable, desperately single and a bit desperately desperate. It couldn't have been worse time for it to happen to be honest, I feel like some kind of Alice in Wonderland. If Alice has chased the promise of regular sex down the rabbit hole and ended up in a one bedroom flat in Brighton. In fact, if I'd only been chasing a rabbit I'd probably at least have had the good sense to throw it away shame facedly when the batteries ran out after a few days. As it is I've bought paintings for the rabbit hole and learned that Tottenham Hotspur play in White Hart Lane. What the fuck, dear reader? What. The. Fuck.

We've lived together for 5 months now and I feel like if I don't start finding the funny side in it then:
a) My career as a comedy writer is going to grind to a crushing halt.
b) I'm going to cram a spoon in his head and:
    i) laugh when they sentence me
    ii) refuse to answer the questions as to how I got it so far in only using my bare hands.

What baffles is me is that, for generations, we have been schooling our youngsters in everything they could possibly want for the future: science, maths, sex ed, religious studies. As a 14 year old I even learned how to wash my own arm pits and happy cave. As though they'd just been festering for the 8 years I'd been in charge of my own showers until Dr Roberts popped up and said, "Hey, ever thought of a sponge? You be careful now."

How has no one ever stopped and thought, "We expect the vast majority of these kids to live in a partnership of some kind one day. Let's teach them how to deal with that?" Was there a group meeting shortly after Adam and Eve reached their paper anniversary where everyone went, "Well, this has turned out fucking horrible, let's let people figure it out for themselves. If we tell them now they'll all start doing it lion style so that at least there are two people in the household who understand recycling procedures."

5 months ago I climbed to the top of a helter skelter thinking it would be an excellent ride, not realising that every inch of the ride was taking me closer to becoming my mum. My mum is standing at the bottom of the slide with a passion for Fat Face and coat for me that looks remarkably like hers. I'm being welcomed to the fold.

The spirited freedom fighter in my head that was going to break all the moulds has realised that men and women haven't just been "a bit twatty" for the last 2,000 years. It is fucking difficult. Because, the truth is, Happily Ever After is only 50% accurate as a statement. You won't always be happy, but it is going to be all the time. Prince Charming gazing at you when you're in a ball gown and a helpful budgie has decorated your hair with nature is great. Prince Charming gazing at you while you're trying to work out a punch line for a joke is distracting and downright unnecessary. It becomes nigh on infuriating when you find out he's gazing at you because he's hungry and doesn't know if he's allowed the chicken in the fridge.

WHEN DID I BECOME KEEPER OF THE CHICKEN?

Because, I have become keeper of the chicken. I'm like some crazy dictator who wants to be left alone to laugh at the word bum, whilst also ensuring that my people keep the fuck away from my chicken because I need it for the dinner I'm somehow making us all. Don't touch my chicken. All in all, it's pretty confusing.

I suppose, the point of this post (lost as it is in the cloudy fog of my own inability to be the perfect house wife cum career girl) is to forewarn you that this little nook in the internet might be a bit more domestic now than we're used to. I mean, don't get me wrong, I am the happiest I have ever been - I feel like Cinderella, a Cinderella who has to make up excuses to go and fart in the hall. That Cinderella. The one no one wrote about. So, you know, she's doing it herself. While Prince Charming gazes at her. Fucking chicken.

No Cliff, No.

I'm about 4 days away from taking my first holiday abroad as an adult. As discussed yesterday, we are not including Magaluf as a holiday as an adult for several reasons that include the fact I don't consider a holiday to have happened if none of the people who went on it have spoken to each other since the plane touched down.

I'm going to Prague. I'm about to do something that I've always despised other people doing and go to a country where I'll simply have to hope everyone else speaks good enough English for me to get by. I slightly hate myself, but I think 4 days to learn Czech is only going to result in me learning to sob with an accent.

The city looks beautiful. If we disregard the fact that the numbers of stags and hens out and about might make it feel frighteningly similar to a night out in Brighton or any Friday gig in a big city, then I'm looking forward to the change of scenery. There's something about a holiday that makes you change a bit and loosen up. Even I, the most frugal person I've ever come across who wasn't a Dickens character, have just said - "Hey, it's only £21 for a taxi from the airport to the hotel."

The only thing I'm worried about it what on earth we're going to do for 3 days. What do you do on holiday as an adult? As a child I know my holiday itinerary is this:

1. Get a pain au chocolat from somewhere.
2. Eat it.
3. Locate the swimming pool.
4. Be in the swimming pool looking warily at other kids until Mum makes you get out.
3. Get a baguette and wonder if you like Brie this year.
4. Eat it.
5. Get back in the swimming pool.
6. Get out of the swimming pool because mum says you have to wait an hour.
7. Get back in the swimming pool after half an hour because mum can't stand your whining any more.
8. Make friends with a kid from Derbyshire and talk about how you'll be best friends forever.

Repeat every day until you have to go home.

What do I do now I'm a grown up? Will I have to go to Museums I don't understand? WILL THERE EVEN BE A KID FROM DERBYSHIRE IN PRAGUE???

So many questions. So little pain au chocolat.

2013

My first feelings towards 2013 are that it is still just as tedious as 2012. My Twitter feed has just substituted the word 'Mayan' for either "Snow!" or "Horses" - neither of which are making me stop looking at Twitter, they're just making me hate myself and it while I do it. I can barely think of a single one of my Facebook friends whose garden I have seen a photo of when it's not snowing. Listen folks, I don't know how impressed to be of your snowy garden when I don't know what it normally looks like. For all I know you're all just jogging on to Google images and collecting a blurry image of a garden and whacking it up there for all the world to like. I don't mind people being excited about phenomenons like Tesco having no moral standards or a cyclical annual weather pattern, but try and give me some perspective on it.

I would like a picture of your garden in the summer please, so I can say, "Hey, yeah, that IS a lot of snow." Or, if you say "Oh my god I can't believe we don't deal with snow like Canadians do even though it's perfectly logical, it's taken me an HOUR to get home." tell me how long it normally takes you, in case I think, "Well, that's remarkably quick to get from your office in Staffordshire down to your perpetually snowy garden in Penzance."

When you're outraged about Tesco and the horse meat, please also explain to me the best friend you had as a child who was a horse so that I'm clear as to why you'd be cross about eating a four legged animal bred for the purpose. Also, remind me why four pints of milk for a pound doesn't upset you, so that I know why you've chosen your moral outrage points and I don't have to assume it's because "horse meat" sounds funny and the papers told you to be cross.

I like snow. I like horses. I like most people. But my God doesn't social media just drain the moron out of all us and spread it like a paste across our screens.

In other news, 2013 is generally going swimmingly when I'm away from my computer. Some exciting developments in this itchy thing I call a career have started to sprout, and my New Years Resolution was to cheer up. As part of my cheering up process I've just booked a holiday (yes, naturally it has started bucketing with snow just before I'm due to fly) to Prague. I've never been on holiday as a grown up person, I mean, I went to Magaluf when I was at Uni but as I only slept for 13 hours in 5 days I don't count myself as having been of adult mind when I was there. Truth be told, I don't think I was of sound mind when I agreed to go but that's another story. Let's just say, I shan't be going again, I don't remember what happened on the balcony and it wasn't my bra. Ok. Back to Prague. I know nothing about Prague except that, and this is a fun fact, it had the cheapest flights and hotels available when I was booking on Wednesday. So, how exciting!

I hope your 2013 is off to a good start and you've got all the instagram apps you need to enjoy the weekend. I have to go now because I've just received an email that starts like this:

"Dear friends, 

The US is about to treat the world to the first genetically modified meat: a mutant salmon that could wipe out wild salmon populations and threaten human health -- but we can stop it now before our plates are filled with suspicious Frankenfish."

...and I need to go away and think about whether or not I would prefer GM foods or billions of people starving as we decimate natural sources of food and increase the number of people on the planet to an increasingly unsustainable level.

xx

Uncle Olly's Funny Face

Uncle Olly had a funny face. He had hair that grew right out of it - covering his cheeks right down from his ears to his chin. Uncle Olly didn’t have a beard like Grandpa, or long hair like Mummy. Uncle Olly had side-burns.

Oliver wanted side-burns more than anything else in the world. He wanted side-burns as big as Uncle Olly’s. Then, he and Uncle Olly could ride on the motorbike with their side-burns sticking out of their helmets and billowing in the breeze.

“When you’re older,” Uncle Olly would say, “When you’re older you can grow side-burns as big as mine.”

“What are they for?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re for keeping my cheeks warm.” Said Uncle Olly, “They’re for keeping my cheeks warm when I go to the North Pole and fight the evil Ice Princess to set the Prince of Penguins free. Without my side burns I would be too cold, and the evil Ice Princess would win.”

Oliver didn’t want to wait until he was a grown up - he wanted to go to the North Pole now.

Oliver tried to make his own side-burns - but Daddy got cross about the holes in the rug and the wasted selotape.

“When you’re older,” Uncle Olly would say, “When you’re older you can grow side-burns as big as mine.”

“What else are they for?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re for catching the bugs when I’m on my motor bike,” Said Uncle Olly, “Without my side burns I would have nothing to catch the bugs and then I would have nothing to feed the enormous tarantula that lives at the bottom of my garden.”

Oliver didn’t want to wait until he was a grown up - he wanted to catch bugs now.

Oliver tried to make his own side-burns - but Grandma got cross about the holes in her lawn and the mud on Oliver’s chin.

“When you’re older,” Uncle Olly would say, “When you’re older you can grow side-burns as big as mine.”

“What else are they for?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re for using as pillow when I’m camping in the mountains,” Said Uncle Olly, “Without my side burns I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with only a rock to rest my head on. I would be so sleepy I wouldn’t be able to carry the rocks needed to drop on the head of the Mega-Squishy-Lion-Giant-Booger-Man.”

Oliver didn’t want to wait until he was a grown up - he wanted to go to climb the mountains now.

Oliver tried to make his own side-burns - but Mummy was very angry and said Holly the dog was going to look very silly at the park now.

“When you’re older,” Uncle Olly would say, “When you’re older you can grow side-burns as big as mine.”

“What else are they for?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re for disguise,” Said Uncle Olly, “Without my side-burns the bears in Canada would know I was a human and would never share the secrets of the rivers and the trees. I need my side burns to blend in.”

Oliver didn’t want to wait until he was a grown up - he wanted to go tlearn the secrets of the bears now.

Oliver tried to make his own side-burns - but his brother Finley was very cross that his teddies couldn’t hear any more.

“When you’re older,” Uncle Olly would say, “When you’re older you can grow side-burns as big as mine.”

“What else are they for?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re for tickling with” Said Uncle Olly, “Without my side-burns I couldn’t do this!”

Oliver wanted to make his own side-burns - but for now he’d have to make do with Uncle Olly’s.

Glorious Feminism

Most people are feminists - it’s wonderful. It’s just that something’s gone wrong with the word feminism so that even some women wouldn’t admit to being one.

If you’ve ever had a female teacher you liked - you’re a feminist. If you’ve ever helped educate a girl - you’re a feminist. If you’ve ever respected a female colleague - you’re a feminist. If you wouldn’t dream of committing rape - you’re a feminist. If you’re still reading these words typed by a woman - you’re a feminist, because you believe I have a right to this voice.

Without feminism you wouldn’t think twice about treating women like animals. Animals you didn’t like very much.

Feminism is just believing that women should have the chance to be treated equal. It doesn’t mean an automatic pass to the top of the tree because we’re trying to make up for a previous imbalance - it just means opening your mind to the idea that women and men can achieve equally.

So why does feminism get so many people angry?

Firstly, I think some people don’t understand why we need feminism. They don’t see the imbalances in the world and they haven’t lived in a generation where women are openly and simply mistreated. It’s sometimes difficult to see the ways the world is geared towards men - how many things are harder not because women aren’t as good but because the task wasn’t created for a woman.

Career paths weren’t built with 2 year gaps in mind to conceive, carry, birth and nurse a child. The vast majority of sports played internationally are concepts designed and perfected on male players, leading to the notion that women are not as good because they have picked up the sport late and play it with different nuances. Marketing departments design and sell the idea that there’s a marked difference between the genders that it’s vitally important we uphold - despite having a civilisation that has the technology to advance past historically vital gender roles. These are just a few of the ways our world isn’t equal, and this is in the West where we are generations ahead of some societies.

Secondly, I think some noisy feminists give the whole concept a bad name. These "militant feminists" who hate men and refuse to shave their legs. Whether they exist or not, the caricature exists in the public's psychi enough to help people switch off whenever the "f" word crops up in conversation.

I think it’s important to understand that to be a feminist isn’t to hate men or blame men. Patriarchy is society’s development based on years of biological necessity and tradition - it’s not your Dad and brother being a git. You cannot empower women by degrading men and you can’t leapfrog intelligent men just to balance the genders - society needs to earn its balance and when it does men and women will benefit equally from standing shoulder to shoulder.

This is why I consider myself a Glorious Feminist - someone who sees feminism as a benefit for men and women alike. I won’t fight for feminism; I will talk for it, debate for it, persuade for it, prove for it, love for it and earn it. But no glorious feminist will fight.

A Big What If

So... every now and again an idea might occur to me that I think, "Well... what if?"

Most of the time I'm fairly sure that these ideas have been bandied around and disregarded for some economic reasons that I don't see the full impact of from my cubby hole in the world. But, on this occasion I'm putting an idea out there...

Now, if you have any thing to add or suggest as to why this could have merit or ruin civilised society then please feel free to tell me and let's have a chat. Lovely. Here we go.

The basis of my idea is this:

"Could you have, and would it work, different minimum wages for different levels of qualifications?"

The basic UK minimum wage for over 21 is £6.19 an hour. What if that became the minimum wage only for someone with no qualifications at all?

Beyond that, and this is just as an example and I have given no research into what figures would be practical you could demonstrate something like:

1-5 GCSEs or equivalent - £6.30 an hour
5-10 GCSEs or equivalent - £6.40 an hour

1-4 AS Levels or equivalent - £6.60 an hour
1-4 A Levels or equivalent - £6.70 an hour

A Degree - £7 an hour
Masters Degree - £7.50 an hour

"In a revised version of this scheme, having spent a long time discussing children vs education, GCSEs vs equivalent qualifications, I am wondering if this scheme would have more benefit if actually it ignored University where you would expect graduates to not work for minimum wage in their field, and concentrated on encouraging people to stay in education up until 18.

That way, it is becoming less alienating to those who choose young families, travelling or simply experience on the job over University, but it still offers short term benefits to staying in education."

Obviously, you would have to work out what equivalent qualifications to these got as a minimum wage and it could be squared out accordingly.

To me, this would give young people an incentive to stay in education because it's a difference they will be seeing it in their pocket right from the word go.

I would be interested in someone explaining calmly why exactly people from poorer backgrounds are put off university. I know high tuition fees are terrifying at first but you don't don't pay any of it back until you are qualified and earning a wage. At which point, if we've got the system right, you're back on a level playing field with everyone else who has a degree whatever their parents' earnings. From my understanding of it, not putting up tuition fees is more unfair to people from poorer backgrounds because the money is instead footed from the tax payer - made up of tax payers who didn't go to university. Therefore, people who couldn't afford to go are part funding your degree.

I am from a totally average background, I had a student loan and I funded my whole degree myself by working all the way through it - my parents didn't input. Obviously, I am completely happy to be told I'm wrong if I've missed something but that's my understanding of the situation.

Edit - "Having sat down and thought about the last paragraph I've realised what a smug prick I am. It's not necessarily about whether you borrowed money off your parents to go to uni. It's also about whether your family could all afford to eat if you weren't also working alongside your parents at the age of 16. There are a lot of other factors in "being able to afford things" than it's easy to see. I am quite ashamed of myself."

So, theoretically, and I cannot reiterate this enough - feel free to (politely) contradict me. This scheme could encourage more people into higher education with short term benefits.

A negative I have considered; would it mean that highly qualified people could struggle to get part time work?

At the moment, despite being having a Masters Degree I work for £6.20 an hour doing what, in theory, should be menial office tasks. However, because I'm competent (and I attribute having this ability to my state education) I am often tasked with more complex things to do because my superiors know I can do it. They are getting more for their money than they should.

If my scheme worked correctly, I should just get paid more to do what I do because I'm doing it better than I would have done without my education. Please note - I'm not saying I am doing it better than someone without a degree. Absolutely not. However, a scheme like this would probably blanket over that fact so it is a definite negative to the system. I also have a feeling it would just result in companies only hiring people with minimum skills to save wages.

Could there be an option to agree to work for a lower wage band if you wanted to? So, for example, for the job I am doing now I would be happy to jump down to a GCSE qualified pay band because I only want the job as a back up to comedy and it's not a full time job or career plan.

What this might do, however, is make companies re evaluate exactly how qualified they need people to be for their jobs and give us a better measure of whether it's really worth qualifying ourselves to the hilt? Do I need my Masters degree? Would the tax payers' money and my own have been better spent building a giant
electric wall to keep Tories away from hospitals?

How would a scheme like this react to:

Mavis Bletchley has worked at ASDA for 18 years. She has 8 GCSEs. She earns £6.40 an hour.

Joanne Lovett has joined ASDA after completing her degree and now earns 60p more an hour than Mavis despite having no experience in the job.

Presumably companies would still keep loyalty based pay rises in place if they had been there previously?

Would this cause education based hierachys in the work place, and if so, is that a bad thing? There are already hierachys in the work place - surely education can't be the worst thing to base it on?

Anyway, there's some ideas world. Run with it, find the holes in it and please tell me (calmly and politely) and lets have a chat...

I'm Hiding

Hi folks... just in case you happen to pop by here and wonder where the writing has gone... For the next year I've moved my ranblings to here:

http://www.52weeksof.org/

as part of a project to help out an old Uni mate with his start up. There's other interesting people writing there too so hopefully you'll find something you like. Also, you can follow me on Twitter too if you should wish!

@lauralexx

xxx