Friday, 28 October 2011

The weekend begins here

It's 5.20 am and I'm in a cab on my way to the airport. I'm going to Sweden for the weekend because tonight is the release party for Tender Hooligans' debut album. And it just so happens that the lead singer of, and musical genius behind, Tender Hooligans is my brother.
So I get up at 4.15, drink a cup of tea, try to resist the urge to throw up and travel to my hometown to support him. And to tear it up with the rest of the hooligan crew!
Rock on, I say. Rock on!

Thursday, 27 October 2011

This is the 21st century right?

Two things:

Yesterday I was watching Prime Minister's Questions and a female MP asked David Cameron about the fact that so many women voters are unhappy with the government. Cameron's reply? Something about the financial climate affecting household finances. Supposedly this is why women don't like the coalition government. Because that's all we do and all we care about: keeping house and home.

Apparently it is of utmost importance that we are able to tell if it's women in the boxing ring, or men. And the way to accomplish that is for female boxers to wear a skirt. A skirt! While boxing!

Sometimes I despair.

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Right here. Right now.

This was written last night. Apparently something went wrong and it wasn't posted. I'm re-posting it now 'cause I can't be arsed to write a new post. As for the personal statement, so far I have listened to some Swedish radio documentaries and made chili jam. So it's going well!

Living in a house where a teenage girl also dwells can mean a lot of shouting.
Luckily I'm not involved. (Only if I'm working, but even that is rare. She seems to reserve it all for her mum.) I'm cocooned in my duvet, in my bed, in my room, with my book. And it can actually be quite entertaining! (Yes I am heartless.) Listening to mother and teenage daughter having a shouting match across the floors of the house. And I can sympathise with both of them.

I don't remember shouting that much at my mum when I was young. Did I? And I'm pretty sure I didn't call her horrible names. If I did, forgive me mum.
In fairness, all I can really remember of my teenage years is deep, dark, seemingly never ending depression, self-loathing and self-harming. So maybe it wasn't your average, garden variety youth.

Tomorrow I'm going to write the first draft of my personal statement which is due soon. For my university application. Well, it's not due for my application. Still have a month or so for that. It's due for school.
Anyway, I've put it on here now. That means I have to do it. Or live with the shame.
Not really, but I do need a kick up the bum and I'm hoping putting it in writing will help.
Now it's like I have a contract with the internet!