An Interview with my Granny

The following interview was conducted with my 90-year-old Granny in June 2012 by Style magazine.
A wee bit of background on my Granny: She learnt to drive at 14-years-old and used to drive to school in her dad's car, where the only cars were hers and the headmaster's. She was a WREN during the war, moving from a tiny village to London to work. She gave birth 8 times. My favourite story about her involves two of my uncles looking out the window when they were young to see my Granny chasing their brother round the garden with a carving knife - one of two occasions she threatened him with that knife. I will write more about my Granny another time.
Ps. As far as I'm aware, she wasn't quite as bitter as this interview makes her sound!


Q.1 How would you describe your life in 1953..what were you doing

A: Not easy. I was a wife and full-time mother


Q.2 As a woman, what did you feel that your role in society was at that time?

A: I still wanted to be at work rather than have to stay in the home.


Q.3 Were you married or did you have children? How many and what age?

A: I was married with three boys all under four years old.


Q.4 Did you have access to contraception? If so how would you go about obtaining it?

A: No, the men looked after that side.  That's why I got pregnant so often.


Q.5: Did you work and if so where? Did you feel that you had many rights in the workplace?

A: I gave up an office job  in 1950 when I got married and had children. I worked for the National Coal Board and we were treated well but most of the bosses were men.


Q.6  What did you read? If you read books or women's magazines which ones and what were they like?

A: I read 'The Lady' and sometimes a bit of the newspaper (The Daily Mail, a paper my parents and my husband's parents had read). 'The Lady' was a bit posher than other mags. and I liked it.

Q.7  What did you spend your leisure time doing?

A: I belonged to the Women's Institute. My mother in law was a member.  Otherwise I was too busy at home to go out that time and the children were too young to leave.

Q. 8 What sort of clothes did you wear and where did you buy them?
Ha

Q.9 Do you feel that there is more pressure on women now than there was back then? ..or did you have some anxieties about your career, your body, your diet as women have now?

A: I think it's probably easier now for women than it was back then. Its much freer now.  Girls can all go out together.  I would never dreamed of doing that.  It would have meant my husband would have had to stay in on his own.  Men went out more in those days.

Backwards Society

I have a friend who found herself pregnant at 17. She was happy with the father and they made the best of a surprise situation. Once her daughter was a few months old, my friend decided to do what she'd always wanted to do and train to be a midwife. Unfortunately, around about the same time, her partner was made redundant. Because her midwifery course would provide a small bursary and she was living at home with her partner, she did not qualify for most of the benefits that young mums who do not work are entitled do. She had to choose to either give up her course, or ask her partner to move out. In the end, it had to be the latter and in the process, they broke up.

This girl was trying to make the best life for herself and her new family and was being hindered every step of the way. Had she decided to simply sit at home and never look for work, she would have been better off.

I know many more young parents who severely struggle to balance work and childcare and yet do it because it is the right thing to do. Every day they look on Facebook and see other young girls who have young children, lovely houses, exciting social lives and have never worked a day in their life. And will never work a day in their life.

That cannot be right.

I heard a story today about a woman who is a heroin addict and, because of this, gets £900 per month in "disability" benefits. A friend's daughter has Downs Syndrome. She receives £500 per month in disability benefits. An addiction to an illegal drug is worth more than a condition that a young girl was born with.

That cannot be right.

Every day, people young and old head to the job centre, walk around town handing out CVs, desperate to find a day's work. At the same time, many others sit at home, watching their widescreen TV, playing their X Box, talking on their iPhone 5, all of which have been paid for with benefits.

That cannot be right.

I read an article about a lady who had known from a very young age that she never wanted to work so at the age of 18, she got pregnant because she "knew the government would foot the bill". She is now a single mum to three children, each of whom has their own room. In her house she has 3 widescreen TVs, several games consoles and the latest mobile phones. She has a car and always manages at least one family holiday every year. She has never had a job. She will never have a job. Because she will never need to.

That cannot be right.

Our benefits system has to exist. I am so glad it does exist. It should be there for the girl who finds herself pregnant and wants to create a good life for herself and her young child. It should be there for the young couple who give birth to a child with a disability and requires full time care. It should be there for the people who lose their jobs and need to keep paying the rent while they find another one. It should be there to help rehabilitate drug users and alcoholics while they get back on their feet.

It should NOT be there to pay for the latest gadgets for people who are too lazy to look for a job. It should not be there to help fund a person's addiction while they sip on methadone. It should not encourage young girls to have babies because they know that if they have a child, the government will give them a nice house and lots of money to spend however they want. And when the child grows out of benefits? Just have another one.

It should be mentioned that while all this is going on, the 1,000 richest people in Great Britain saw their wealth GROW by £155 billion over the past three years. During the "recession". To give you a frame of reference, the UK's entire budget defecit is £122 billion.

There is something very wrong.

Maybe instead of David Cameron and Ed Milliband spending PMQs bickering like very upper class school kids and getting absolutely nowhere, they should be working on fixing broken Britain.

J K Rowling

Ok I know I'm totally fan-girling, but J K Rowling has to be number one choice for a role model in every possible way.

1) In December 1993, seven years after graduating, J K Rowling found herself divorced from a husband who was rumoured to be abusive, a single mum, jobless living in Edinburgh. She saw herself as "the biggest failure [she] knew". Despite also being diagnosed with clinical depression, she did not sink into despair and give up. She decided to concentrate on what she really wanted to do - which was write. With three chapters of Harry Potter already completed, she would walk until her baby fell asleep, then sit in a cafe and write. In June 1997, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's stone was published. From a point in her life when everything seemed to have gone wrong, J K Rowling found the strength to create one of the most celebrated fantasy worlds of all time - one which will continue to capture the imaginations of children and adults alike for years and years to come.

2) J K Rowling's writing is criticised from time to time. To me, this is ridiculous. Literature is not about how many "literary techniques" you can fit into one paragraph. It is about capturing your audience, painting a picture in their minds, creating a world that your audience connect with; I can't imagine a story that does this more than Harry Potter. J K Rowling's imagination is second to none. I can sit with other people who are as geeky about Harry Potter as I am and discuss the currency, the laws, the history and beyond of Harry Potter's world - because J K Rowling captured our imaginations so much that we wanted to learn everything we could about that world. She once said that Harry Potter fans wouldn't be happy "until they know the middle names of all Harry's grandparents". She's right. Her writing is also incredibly accessible; I know multiple people who said they "did not read". After I persuaded them to read Philosopher's Stone, they are now reading everything they can get their hands on. It is pure enjoyable reading.

3) J K Rowling did not want to be famous. She did not expect to end up remotely rich. She wanted to write as a job, to have a nice life with her daughter doing what she loved. Throughout the roller-coaster journey of Harry Potter, she has conducted herself with unwavering dignity. She has done everything within her power to protect her family from the limelight. She has never let her integrity slip for one second. After watching her give evidence at the Leveson Enquiry about the horrible experiences she had with paparazzi only increased my admiration for her. She does not like to appear in public, but in this situation it was important for people who may find themselves in her position in the future, so she did.

4) In 2012, J K Rowling should have been in the billionaire's club.. But after giving more than $160 million to charity, she knocked herself off the rich list. I don't think I really need to add anything more to that.

5) J K Rowling is now a multi millionaire and is still doing exactly what she wants to do. She is writing a book for adults. She knows that some people will be disappointed and not everyone will like it. But she is doing what she did when writing Harry Potter; doing what she loved, for the right reasons.

Feminist, Realist, Optimist

I am a feminist. I believe wholeheartedly and completely that women should accept no less than an equal amount of respect to men.

I am a realist. I know that not everybody likes or understands each other. I know that people will always use stereotypes in comedy. I know that it is not only women in this world who are discriminated against.

I am an optimist. I believe that with more education, awareness is growing and will continue to grow and more and more people will see it is not okay to show a lack of respect towards a fellow human being because of their gender, sexuality or race.

On several occasions over the last few weeks, the same builder has made comments as I walked past. These comments may not sound offensive, they are not brazenly sexist or insulting, but they made me feel exposed, embarrassed and strangely ashamed. Each time, the man has not spoken to me, but about me to his colleagues, deliberately loudly to ensure I could hear him. The comments were said in an extremely sleazy tone and went along the lines of "Oh look she's nice eh", then "That's the one I was telling you about, she's nice eh".

Had these comments been said to a friend after I had passed so I could not hear him, they would have been fine. Had he come up to me and in a much less aggressive manner said "I think you're attractive" or similar, I might have been flattered. However, these comments were not designed to please me. It was very obvious since the first occasion that this man was trying to embarrass me.

I realise that out of context, these words might not seem like much. I was told this in no uncertain terms when I Tweeted about the occurrence. "Sometimes it's merely a compliment", "If he touched you, or insulted you, or was really vulgar, I understand why it's bad. But why is "nice" bad?". I felt like replying "You're right.. He should be able to say whatever he likes about me as long as it's not really vulgar. My bad.". The fact is that if something makes me feel as exposed as that did, it is not a compliment, and despite the fact he didn't grab me and say "I can see your calves you slut", I still felt embarrassed and as though I did not want to wear any make-up or nice clothes the next time I walked past him. [For the record, I was wearing Ugg boots, my work uniform and a thigh length tweed coat]

The problem is, and I know I am going to have to choose my words very carefully here, sometimes people do jump on the slightest comment and brand it "sexist" without first thinking about it. A short while ago on the BBC program 'The Voice', they showed a clip of a 16-year-old girl who was moving out of her family home for the program. They showed her mother saying something along the lines of "I'm not sure how she'll cope, she's never so much as boiled an egg before". A very well liked and respected feminist Tweeted shortly after saying "Outrageous! They would never have said that if it was a boy". In my opinion, that Tweet was completely unmerited. In fact, I believe that if it was a boy - and I'm sure similar things have been said on the X Factor when young boys are on the show - then an even bigger deal would have been made, referencing that the boy was a "mummy's boy" and can't do anything for himself.

Me and my boyfriend own a flat. We both work. My boyfriend cooks and cleans and takes care of the house. I organise our joint account, do his taxes and orchestrate the paying of the bills. When I tell people these facts, I feel the need to follow it up with "He's 6 foot and a Joiner and he does all the odd jobs around the house too" because otherwise people might doubt my dear other half's manliness.

This is wrong - it is wrong of me to feel the need to add in this post script, it is wrong of me to assume that whomever I am speaking to is imagining my boyfriend in a flowery apron holding a feather duster, it is wrong of me to think of that as a negative image, one which I feel the need to thwart.

The problem is, some women complain furtively about any sentence which has the words "women" and "kitchen" too close together, but are happy to complain about men being unable to multi-task and not knowing their arse from their elbow when it comes to cooking. Just like many Scottish people will complain about the stereotypical judgements drawn up about us, then proceed to passionately judge the entire nation of England. I have been in a job where I have been paid less than a colleague who started at the same time as me and has no more qualifications than I did; and she was a girl. Had she been a boy, people would have assumed this was why I was being paid less, rather than it just being that she did better in the interview than I did.

We need to have a bit of humour, we need to be able to poke fun at ourselves, we need to think whether something is gender related before we pounce and we need to pick our battles. Comedy will always involve tired stereotypes, narrow-minded judgement and exaggerated observation, but these tend to be across the board, not just against women but against men, against the Scottish, against the English, against teenagers, against the elderly, against the working class, against the upper class. Some stereotypes can be very damaging and anything which does show a real lack of respect should not be acceptable, but if we start attacking every advert which pictures a woman cooking, it begins to trivialise the real issues.

The real issue is, real sexism remains a huge problem in the UK. Countless women were harassed today and will not even have noticed it because it is so common place. A woman will have left work today wishing she hadn't chosen that day to bypass foundation because her boss then said she looked "tired" and passed the project onto a man who never wears make-up. Or wishing she wore less make-up because her colleague asked her who she was "trying to impress". Or wishing she could afford a breast reduction because the customer who uses her name every time he enters the shop still spent his entire visit staring the her name badge on the front of her blouse. Or worrying about telling her manager that she and her husband are trying for a baby because she knows she will dash her hopes of a career, while her husband's will continue to flourish. Or feeling ashamed that she wore a skirt above her knee because builders shouted at her and she should have known better, it was her own fault for dressing like that.

The fact is, we still live in a society where a woman is raped and people say "well what do you expect if you go out dressed like that, flirting with men".

I'll tell you what she expects. A woman should expect to be able to wear the dress that she has been staring at in Topshop's window for a month without being thought of as a slut. She should expect to be able to flirt with a boy without him thinking he can put his hand up her skirt. She should expect to be able to have a little too much to drink without a man taking this as a sign that she is "fair game". She should expect to be able to bare her calves without having to put up with derogatory remarks from men in the street.

I am a feminist. I believe that a man making a woman feel worth any less than a counterpart is disgraceful. I believe that the amount of pressure put on a woman to dye her hair and wear make-up and shave her armpits is wrong. I believe a woman should be able to do whatever she wants to do, as long as she is not hurting anyone, without fear of judgement.

I am a realist. I am not suggesting for one minute that only women are judged and assessed and disrespected. I know that, just like a woman feels pressure to find that fine line between 'not making enough effort' and 'slut' and balance there, a man feels pressure to be "manly" enough to command respect from his peers while being approachable and not aggressive and needs to support his partner without being thought of as "whipped". I know that many of the people who have something against women also have something against other races and other sexualities. I know that we have a long way to go.

I am an optimist. People are becoming less and less accepting of sexist behaviour. More and more women are realising that they can wear whatever they want, shave whenever they want, keep their maiden (need a new word for this) names if they want, be successful in any field they wish. Except penis modelling. The CEO of the company I work for is personable, charming, strong, determined, commands as much respect as anyone I've ever seen at the head of a business and is a woman. I believe we are heading in the right direction and the only way to keep going is to support each other, not put each other down, challenge unacceptable behaviour and do not accept anything less than we deserve.

John Terry by Matthew Syed

This is a brilliantly researched and wonderfully written piece by Matthew Syed about John Terry that I found online. Obv I don't own it etc.

    "John Terry is the most unfortunate man in Britain. How else to make sense of the litany of misunderstandings that have afflicted the Chelsea captain and which have served cruelly to undermine his reputation? The most recent incident involves video footage that appears to show Terry racially abusing an opponent at the weekend. Terry admits to using racist language (and, to judge from the video, using it in an aggressive way), but he claims that he was stating the words to deny having said them an earlier spat. To put it another way, he has been misconstrued. 
     It is not the first time, poor chap. In December 2009 he was filmed showing a group of businessmen (actually undercover reporters) around the Chelsea training ground in return for £10,000 in used £50 notes. At the time, many inferred that he was seeking to enrich himself in direct contravention of his club's rules. But this was another misapprehension. According to Terry, £8,000 of the cash was destined for charity. 
     Earlier that year Terry had been the victim of another misunderstanding. The story centred on an e-mail sent out by a company called Riviera Entertainment, which read: "John Terry is available to create effective brand awareness and endorse products and services globally." And later: "John Terry is: British sporting hero; England's football captain; World Cup 2018 ambassador; Football icon; Dad of the year 2008; Voted as one of the World's most influencial [sic] people."
     According to Riviera, it was acting on the explicit instructions of Terry and his advisers, but Terry was having none of it. This was another case of misunderstanding. "An e-mail inviting commercial endorsements for me has been published," he said. "This e-mail was sent without my authority or knowledge and was not approved by me (or those advising me). I have nothing further to say on the matter."
     In February 2010 (anyone else getting a sense of déjà vu?) Terry was accused of exploiting the England captaincy for commercial gain. According to reports, his box at Wembley (which he was allowed to hire at thousands of pounds below the market price as a perk of the England captaincy) was being touted out for £4,000 in cash. 
     This was, again, a case of crossed wires. Terry patiently explained that he had no knowledge of the proposed transaction and that he was an innocent victim of circumstances beyond his control. 
     Some may wonder how it is possible for a man who is (according to his commercial agents) an outstanding leader to be misunderstood so often; how it is possible that so many money-making scams, dodgy transactions and reprehensible outbursts are attributed to a man who is so morally upstanding. But perhaps we should put these questions to one side, at least for the moment, because we have barely scratched the surface of Terry's misfortune. 
     As recently as Monday, it was reported that Terry had failed to show up to the opening of a reptile shop in Surrey (I am not making this up). Two hundred and fifty people were apparently left disappointed. But this was not a case of forgetfulness or a breach of promise; it was another misunderstanding. "I had not agreed to attend the opening of this or any other shop today," Terry proclaimed. "I had been asked if I would consider the opportunity and declined on two separate occasions. I very much regret any distress or disappointment that may have been suffered by the public."
     Perhaps the most infamous misunderstanding occurred during the summer of 2009, when Manchester City came along with a big offer for the Chelsea centre half. Many players would have grabbed the money, others would have stayed put. But Terry came up with a different ploy. He kept schtum for almost the entire summer, using the offer to squeeze an improved offer from Chelsea (reported to be about £150,000 a week). "Good luck to him," many of us thought. "There is nothing wrong with maximising one's income". 
     But, once again, we had it all wrong. According to Terry, who enjoys his reputation as a stalwart of Stamford Bridge, he had never contemplated going to City and it was merely a coincidence that Chelsea offered a whopping pay rise. As yet another public statement told us: "I am totally committed to Chelsea and always have been." Quite how anybody came to any other conclusion was, it seemed, beyond him. 
     Indeed, looking at Terry's career in the round, it is difficult to find a single episode where he has been in the wrong. What looks like dodgy behaviour is merely a case of not knowing all the facts, or misinterpreting his motives, or failing to see the bigger picture. Other episodes include when he parked in a disabled bay, urinated into a beer glass outside a nightclub and insulted American tourists in the aftermath of 9/11.
     Of course, suspicious people have, on occasions, doubted Terry's explanations. If the money for the training ground tour was destined for charity, why was he so keen to keep it secret? As the cash was handed to Tony Bruce, a ticket tout who apparently pocketed £2,000 for acting as the broker, Terry said: "If the club finds out, it's a little bit . . . you know." Later, when more trips were discussed, Terry said: "Yeah, but you brief them that they don't speak to no one. Cos if anyone finds out, then we can't do it no more." 
     Others point out that almost every case of "misinterpretation" is also a case of Terry calling someone else a liar. Terrence Clark, the reptile shop owner, did not miss the implication. "That's an absolute lie," he said in response to Terry's statement. "It wasn't a publicity stunt. He had agreed to come. You saw everything I did today, bringing out the snakes and sweets and stuff for the kids because I felt so bad. He was supposed to be there but he didn't show."
     Either way, what seems clear is that there are really only two possible views to have of Terry. One is that he is the most misunderstood man in Britain, someone who has endured an astonishing run of bad luck and misinterpretation. The other is that he is an odious and reprehensible chancer who should never have been appointed (or reappointed) to the England captaincy. Make your own minds up."

Women Hating Women

Samantha Brick and Claudia Connell are on a mission. Their mission, which they have clearly already accepted, is to bring feminism to its knees.

Samantha Brick thinks we all hate her because she is so freaking gorgeous. I don't know anyone who particularly disliked her until she started telling us all what haterz we are.

Claudia Connell announced that she hated Katherine Jenkins and Victoria Pendleton on sight and it is so oh-my-Gosh not-at-all because she is envious. She's not envious by the way. She'd never want to look like the stunning Katherine or be successful like the incredible Victoria. No no no. She's much happier writing about how women hate each other. Did I mention she's not envious?

The first point I should make is that neither woman has a sound argument. Neither woman produced anything more than drivel. Neither woman has managed to look anything other than pathetic. Neither woman has any awareness whatsoever.

I must explain myself at this point. I realise I just gave Bricko and Claudz a telling off for hating women, and now I'm going to point out some of the worst things women say. My reasoning for this is that I think there is a small minority who are taking every measure to bring feminism down. I do not think the entire female population is hating on every gorgeous, successful woman who walks by. Similarly, I do not think that every woman looked at by another woman walks away smiling and thinking "That girl hates me for my stunning good looks". Most women I know are simply lovely. And most men for that matter.

I think most of us see people. Tall people, small people, blonde people, brunette people, people wearing sandals, people wearing hats, people with willies, people with vaginas. We may judge and we may have petty reasons for disliking each other, but most of us don't see our entire gender as threats and competition wherever we look. We have to stop trying to bring each other down.

Here are a few things I have heard which are punching feminism right in its gorgeous face;

"I don't let my boyfriend go out to clubs. It's not that I don't trust him, it's that I don't trust other women".
Hm. That's strange for three reasons..
1) Because you are a woman. Are you basically announcing that you would not hesitate to get with a married man or a man with a boyfriend? That makes you look awesome.
2) If a woman tries to grope your boyfriend, he is within his rights to ask her to stop. Similarly, if someone kisses your boyfriend, he does not have to accept said kiss. My boyfriend can go wherever he likes because I trust him and I don't think women are going to pounce on him and, if they did, I'm sure he could manage to avoid ending up in bed with them.
and 3) No. You don't trust your boyfriend. At all. And that's sad. Do you want to talk about it?

"She's had sex with 6 people. What a whore".
That's not very nice. She might have really fancied them. And made a happy, thought-out decision to have sex with them. And used protection. And completely respected both her partners and herself throughout. Having sex does not a slut make. As the famous quote from the wonderful film goes.. "We have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call us sluts and whores". And before you know it, a girl who has had sex with multiple partners is then raped and suddenly part of the human population become the worst kind of cruel imaginable.

"Women only pretend to like sport to get a man".
I love sport. My boyfriend is not interested in sport at all. I still watch football every week. And tennis. And cricket when it's the Ashes. And rugby. And athletics. I even play computer games like Football Manager. And I get all excited and cheer when I'm playing table-football. And I do these despite my other half thinking I'm nuts. And I do these at home by myself when nobody is there to be totes impressed by what a tomboy I am. Lordy I'm just so desperate for a man.

"I'd never want to look like her. She's way too thin/curvy/tall/small/blonde/brunette etc".
That's fine. You don't have to look like her. You're pretty much stuck looking like you. Which I'd think you were happy with, were you not announcing how much you would hate to look like Angelina Jolie.

"Ewww. Look at her hairy armpits! I'd never have hairy armpits! I hate ladies with hairy armpits. I win the battle of the bald armpits. Love me!"
If you have to bring down your fellow females for skipping a day with their Venus razor, you must be very sad. You may choose to have smooth-as-a-baby's-bum armpits and that is totally fine. That is your choice. Just like it is every woman's choice. An article was written recently about Pixie Lott going out with stubble under her arms. How can this be newsworthy? It sounds to me like someone was tired of Pixie Lott being so perfect (which she totes is by the way) and jumped on the first thing they could class as an imperfection.

Ladies. Feminism exists because females were sick of being second class citizens. Feminism is still important today because, although we can vote and we can drive cars which some in other countries are still not allowed to do, misogyny does still exist in our society. And there is no way we can rid sexism altogether if women are making it okay to hate women, to call women sluts, to hate women on first sight, to ridicule women for sweating or for spending a day without a razor.

Love your fellow women. And love men too.

I wish we could all get along like we used to.. I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy.. I possibly just have a lot of feelings.

Ps. It is not okay for a girl to hit a man. That had nothing to do with this but I think it's very important.

Judging Ched Evans

I want to start by saying I am not going to comment on my opinions on the case. I was not there. I have not seen the evidence. I don't know Ched Evans. I don't know the girl. This blog is about the reactions of certain individuals.

If you search 'Ched Evans' on Twitter, you find Tweets like these;

"Lets keep this support going 4 ched Evans an innocent man"
"We know Ched Evana is innocent"
"That boy Ched Evans, he'll shag who he wants he'll shag who he waaants that boy Ched Evans he'll shag who he wants!!!"
"BBC say Ched Evans "attacked" a woman. A bit of strong. I thought she was a cheap drunken bird who was too pissed to consent."
"Ched Evans is a horrible rapist who deserves to be dead"

Obviously the sheer flippancy here is truly disgusting, but it is not what I'm here to discuss. If you do search Ched Evans related Tweets, see if you can spot the running trend;
A majority of those who support Ched's innocence are Sheffield United fans, the team he played for.
A majority of those making horrible comments about him are Sheffield Wednesday fans, their rival team.

These people are basing their opinion on whether or not a man raped a woman on the team he played for. And not simply 'I support United therefore I support Ched', but 'I support United therefore I support Ched and think the girl who claims he raped her is a vile liar' and 'I support Wednesday therefore I think Ched is a horrible rapist who deserves the death penalty'.

Had he played for Wednesday rather than United, who knows what their stance would be. These are people with no concept of morality, not desire to know what is right and what is wrong; these are people who are enjoying getting involved in a fight they know nothing about simply to upset or disgust another group of people.

There cannot be many worse experiences than waking up to discover you've been raped. There cannot be many worse situations than having your brother/son sent to jail for 5 years for a crime he did not commit. It is a horrible situation; some girls do falsely accuse people of rape while some men do take advantage of girls and then try to make the girls look like liars. It must be one of the hardest trials to judge because you tend to have very little evidence.

We cannot know what really happened. Nobody truly knows that apart from the three people involved. But we sure as shit should not base our opinions of something so serious, so devastating, so truly horrifying, on which colour football strip we wear on a Saturday.

Proud Scot, Proud Brit

So I wrote this back when I had decided to vote No in the Scottish Independence referendum. My opinions have since changed, but this blog remains. I will continue to be culturally British whether my passport says that or not. My point when writing this blog was that I could not understand people who refute the word British, as though it makes you less Scottish. I am proud of so much about Great Britain, but the referendum is about political, powers only.

Like many people up and down the country, I jumped around screaming when Andy Murray beat Tsonga in the semi-finals of Wimbledon this year. I also cheered and cried from the outset of, and throughout, the Olympic Opening Ceremony in London. I revelled in the music section, announcing that I would never listen to American music again because British music is too awesome to need to.

Great Britain has so much to be proud of; The Beatles, Sir Tom Jones, Sean Connery, Harry Potter, the Premier League, Robert Burns, the Chemical Brothers, Shakespeare, Irn Bru (Scotland is the ONLY place in the world where Coca Cola is outsold by a native soft drink), Ridley Scott, Sir Steve Redgrave, Sir Chris Hoy, Adele, Muse, Richard Curtis. 

I am an extremely proud Scot and if the Scottish national team played the English or Welsh national team in any sport, I'd be on my seat, wearing a Saltire, screaming on the Scots. When I was travelling a couple of years ago, I repeatedly found myself listing with pride all the wonderful things about being Scottish. I was also frequently outraged when it became apparent that people thought that the big island to the west of Europe was England and Scotland is one of those tiny islands above it where everyone wears kilts and eats only haggis. If I walk up the aisle and the man waiting for me isn't wearing a kilt, I'll be very disappointed. I am Scottish, not English, not Welsh. I am Scottish and I most certainly am also British.

England, Scotland and Wales each have so much to celebrate as individual nations and then have the added beauty of - as the Opening Ceremony showed - being able to come together for one hell of a party! Some people think we're bonkers, but I think we are a quirky, multi-cultural, slightly odd looking, imperfectly perfect, free country.
National pride is heightened when you take into consideration how small Britain is and yet how strongly we compete with much bigger nations. British film, British music, British comedy; these things are so well respected world wide, despite our population being less than one fifth of that of the United States. When the initials NHS were illuminated during the opening ceremony, I smiled smugly along with the rest of Britain and invited Mitt Romney to politely 'suck it'.

Yes, our history is fraught with colonisation and civil war, but when I see Brits coming together to celebrate an event like the Olympics, when I read all the objections to NBC not showing the 7/7 tribute, when I see a Scot, Englishman or Welshman accepting a medal on behalf of Great Britain, when I take part in a minute's silence on the 11th of November, I am overwhelmed by what Great Britain stands for and what we have achieved together.

What I'll add at the end here is that while the above all stands, the thing that breaks my heart is watching our government attempt to destroy all this in favour of being some soulless global power. Whatever happens in the referendum, I will fight to save the NHS, to improve education and to restore Britain - both north and south of the border - to its rightful glory.

Jon Richardson's opinion on Jimmy Carr's Tax Dodging

Sean Locke said he wasn't sure why David Cameron had to get involved in the story about Jimmy Carr dodging tax.

Jon Richardson replied "David Cameron got involved because he’s in charge of the economy and he gets shit in the papers everyday for having to fire Nurses and Doctors, and one of the reasons he has to do that cos there isn't enough money in the pot, and one of the reasons there isn’t enough money in the pot is because not everybody pays their taxes".

Oh Jon you wonderful, beautiful, clever man :)

Andy Murray; Scottish and British

I think my brain may be boiling in liquid rage inside my head.

Andy Murray is a Scottish man. He plays tennis. When he plays tennis, he is playing for Britain. When Greg Rusedski played tennis, he was playing for Britain. When Tim Henman played tennis, he was playing for Britain. No English people kicked off about that. Why is it that Scottish people are sitting on their haunches, just waiting for someone to call him British so that they can pounce up and yell,

"SCOTTISH WHEN HE'S LOSING, BRITISH WHEN HE'S WINNING"?

I just do not believe that the above is true. My doubts were backed up in Will Sturgeon's blog, "the UK media reported on Andy Murray predominantly as a "Scot" a grand total of 1,290 times. Meanwhile he was reported as being predominantly a "Brit" just 96 times, according to Google News". The blog does to go on to say that the term "British" does outweigh "Scottish" when describing him.. Possibly because he is and always has been playing for Britain.

The fact is, every time he wins, he wins for Britain, because the team he plays for is Britain. Just like when Sir Chris Hoy won gold at the Olympics. Just like when Phil "The Power" Taylor throws one hundred and eighty. Just like when Jenson Button wins in.. The car thing that he does. They are all, in those situations, playing for Great Britain. I don't hear any Scots saying, "Jenson Button; British when he's winning, English when he's losing".

As a proud Scot, I am extremely proud that Andy Murray is Scottish. As a proud Brit, I am proud that Andy Murray is British.

We know why the Scottish are so protective over Andy Murray; because we very rarely get any sporting glory at all. Sir Chris Hoy did us proud at the 2008 Olympics and damn we can't half curl - in the Winter Olympics 2010 Rhona Martin led a team of Scottish women to a gold in curling - but generally, we don't bring home many trophies with little sports people on top and unfortunately, our English neighbours bring home a lot more than us! There is also the sneaking suspicion that Murray would much prefer to be playing for Scotland rather than Britain.

But unless we are prepared to give back Button, Haye, Ennis, 'Power' Taylor, Idowu, Eddie the Eagle and Hamilton (bad example, nobody wants Hamilton), then we are going to have to share Murray, Baker, Hoy and yes, even our curling team.

.. What we really need is Murray to play in the Commonwealth Games! Then we can sit, poised, ready to castrate anyone who calls him British.

Hibs' Lack of Heart

For half of the city, the Scottish Cup Final 2012 was a very grim affair. Despite a great morning of green and white, singing songs and feeling strangely optimistic, the bubble was burst when Craig Thomson pointed at the spot. Heads were in hands, scarves were flying through the air and before long, the green half of Hampden was no longer very green at all.

I'm not going to talk about diving and referees because no matter what, very few of the boys in green deserved silver. Fans and Fenlon stood screaming while the majority of the Hibs team trotted around, not looking particularly bothered by any of it. And when I heard that the squad were laughing and joking on the bus home, and then out drinking on George Street while the rest of the then depressingly sunny Leith cried into their pillows, I could not quite believe it.

When we think back to it now, we'll wonder why we were so optimistic. We only confirmed that we were not being relegated a few weeks ago. That is not the position of a team with passion, heart and belief.

Yes - we are frustratingly sensible with money while some other SPL teams live way beyond their means - but money can't buy passion. The lack of heart is not something we can blame Petrie for. That has to come from somewhere else.

But we'll support them evermore. All we can hope is that our squad start supporting us as we support them.

I'd Smash Her Back Doors In

I have been absolutely horrified recently by the huge number of people making light of sexual violence. The worst part is, most of them don't realise they are doing it.

"If I got a hold of her, she would be walking funny for a week", "I'd smash her back doors in", "I'd destroy her".

How, how, can this be allowed to happen? Those phrases must be some of the most misogynistic words to ever have been allowed out of a person's mouth.


Firstly, these phrases are making a joke out of sexual violence. Words like 'smash' and 'destroy' are so overtly violent that nobody could deny it. What - hopefully - people who say these phrases don't realise is that they are saying they want to cause a huge amount of horrible pain to the person they are discussing.


Secondly, they are a clear and horrible example of objectifying women. The girl to whom these phrases refer clearly has no say in the matter whatsoever. She is barely a person. She is an inanimate object to treat as you want.


I am not pretending for one minute that every person who uses these phrases wants to rape, cause pain to or gain glory from hurting the girl they are talking about. The worst thing about them, in fact, is that they appear to have been absorbed into every day speech so easily that people do not even hesitate to think what they are saying. The problem is, younger people try to grab sexual advice from any source possible. Young boys watch porn, men apparently attempting to remove the girls nipple with his mouth, and think; huh, it's different to Sex and the City but the girl looks like she's enjoying it! I am sure nobody will hear 'I'd destroy her' and think they are supposed to physically destroy the girl through sex, but it is without a doubt encouraging aggressive sex which does not take into account the wants, needs or desires of a girl whatsoever.


I am sure the majority of people who read this will think I am being over the top. If you do, please stop for a second and really think about those phrases. It is bad enough that people genuinely talk and joke about girls like this; like they are an object to be grabbed and had their way with. What is worse, is what the phrases actually mean;


"See that girl there? I want to grab her, take her home and have sex with her so violently that she is physically hurt and I don't care whether she wants it or not."


I read about a girl - a 100% true, verified story - who went home with a boy to have consensual sex. He was so rough with her, she ended up with internal bleeding. She felt she could not tell him to stop, because she had consented. This is what people are making jokes about by using the above phrases.



I implore you;
If you say any of this type of phrase, please stop.
If you hear anyone using this type of phrase, challenge them.


I do not condemn all sexist humour; there are just as many jokes about men not being able to multitask as there are about women in the kitchen. But jokes which make light of sexual violence and rape are simply not acceptable.

Scotland by Train

Standing on Calton Hill looking out across the North East of Edinburgh where I grew up. Walking out into the stands at Easter Road, feeling that familiar, yet always surprising, euphoria inflating inside me. Standing on a beach in Thurso, looking out across the sea to Orkney and the huge sky beyond. Walking through the Old Town of Edinburgh or  the West End of Glasgow, discovering a new secret every time.

There are no shortage of places which make me feel incredibly glad that I’m from Scotland. Having lived in several different areas - from the shores of the Firth of Forth, to the largest city, to the most Northerly town and now feet away from Edinburgh Castle - my favourite thing about Scotland is the huge variety of landscapes of which our great country is made. The rickety Old Town of Edinburgh houses some of my favourite architecture in the world, while the beauty of the mountains and lochs West of Inverness rivals anything seen in New Zealand. To summarise, I could not choose one single place that beats all the rest.

This is why, to encompass my great passion for the variety within Scotland, my favourite place is sitting on a Scottish train. *Pauses while my Dad falls off his seat in delight*.

I’m sure most people’s initial feelings will be to scoff. ‘It only takes a snowflake to bring the railways of Scotland to a standstill’, a voice cries, ‘It takes 4 and a half hours in the car to Thurso, and nearly 9 hours on the train’. And, funnily enough, that voice is mine! However, I have encountered some of the best of Scotland sitting on a train.

After moving to Glasgow from Edinburgh for University, I spent a fair amount of time on the shuttle, backing and forthing from one to the other.
I have been part of the early morning commute, with suits and briefcases squeezing on board, tutting at the one self-centred so-and-so who has put his bag on the only empty seat. I have been engulfed by a crowd of kids all dressed the same, attending some concert or another. I have sat between a Hen party and a Stag party and watched as shot after shot was poured - finally turning away and pretending to sleep when the Hen clambered onto the best man’s knee.
My iPod has been my best friend throughout most of my train journeys and strangely - or perhaps not strangely at all - I used to find myself almost always switching on The Proclaimers when travelling between my home town and my new residence. Songs such as ‘Scotland’s Story’ and ‘Cap In Hand’ only added to my swelling patriotism as I watched fields, buildings, stadiums and towns fly past me.
This particular route has also been the setting for many a football pilgrimage. The pattern usually goes thusly; travelling West with green paint on our faces, songs in our hearts and optimism in our souls, then a few hours later travelling East with our face paint tear streaked, our eyes bloodshot and our voices left back in Lanarkshire. Not too long ago, I travelled back from Hampden with my cousin and a huge group of stony faced men in green. We sat in near enough silence for most of the journey until we were stopped five minutes short of Waverley Station to allow another train to pass. I doubt a single one of us could deny the romance when an elderly gentleman started up “There is a bonnie fitba’ team..” and every voice joined in - not shouting, but singing along, long-suffering but persevering.

Having both best friends and boyfriend from Caithness, the second most common train journey for me is that between the Central Belt and Thurso, the most northerly town in Scotland. This journey takes eight hours and forty minutes in perfect weather, and anything up to 36 hours if you get stuck halfway due to snow. I’ve had many a battle with a guard in Inverness who tells me I’ve missed my connection - “I haven’t missed my connection, sir. You have missed my connection.” On a good day, you can get them to pay for a taxi to chase the train the 34 miles to Tain.. On a bad day, you are forking out for a hotel.
Eight hours is a long time and I have spent it in many different ways; trying to revise until my incessant travel-sickness takes over and I am forced to abandon; listening to the dulset tones of Stephen Fry reading Harry Potter to me; giggling with a group of friends, a pack of cards and a splash of alcohol; sleeping with my head against the window and my mouth wide open, suddenly jolting upright - staring bewilderedly around - when the train turns a sharp bend.
Regardless of the weather, as long as it is daylight at some point during the journey, you are going to see some of the most beautiful scenery you can imagine. I remember falling asleep in Markinch and waking up in Narnia - Blair Atholl covered in snow. The valleys, moors and glens of Caithness, Sutherland, Ross and Cromarty never fail to leave me breathless; despite countless attempts with a camera phone through a dirty, rain-streaked window, I have never quite managed to capture on film just how beautiful they are.
The journey is not without its downsides. The ‘request stops’ between Inverness and Thurso are often a real source of annoyance - “Who on Earth has requested that we stop in a field*?” *Kildonan. The fact that the train still has to change direction at Georgemas Junction - forcing those of us with travel sickness to get up and move so we are still facing forwards. The unpredictable heating and the occasions where there is no trolley service. There was also the time I was somewhat hungover, heading South after a weekend in Thurso and was being sick in the delightful toilet when the train braked and the extremely heavy toilet seat fell on my head - a real low point for me.
However, there is a real sense of pride and even smugness - for me at least - as you watch people give up and vacate the train one by one, at the stops prior to the far North, “Call that a train journey? This is a train journey!”, dismissing the fact that some of those sitting around me will be travelling for a further thirty minutes to Wick after I disembark.
Football pilgrimages on this route have been for the National team and have usually ended in a similar fashion to those in the Central Belt.

Perhaps the best thing about Scottish train journeys are the people. I have made many a friend while on the railway; I sometimes think that - no matter how hard you push in your earphones and stare determinedly out the window - it is fairly difficult to avoid conversation.
I’d say the best word to describe the people I have met on my travels around Alba álainn is ‘characters’. From two men from Poland with whom I drank vodka and Irn Bru and discussed football the entire journey, to a kind gentleman who offered me deep heat after he saw me twist my back while putting my suitcase onto the luggage rack. From a nice Freemason who chatted with me most of the four hour journey from Inverness to Thurso, to a lady who had broken her back climbing, recovered and was celebrating by, you guessed it, going climbing. There was the surly chap straight off the rigs who sat opposite me, put his Rigger boots on the seat next to him, and proceeded to make his way through four litres of strong, dry cider, and the couple from Bermuda who had, inexplicably, upped sticks and moved to Brora.

Sitting on a train in Scotland encompasses the essence of being Scottish. The beauty, the unpredictability, the banter, the romance, the this-is-a-nightmare-and-nobody-knows-our-trials-and-tribulations-but-we’re-tough-and-Scottish-so-we’ll-be-ok attitude, the drink, the football, the making-friends-with-strangers, the uniting against a common enemy - in this instance the enemy being the crackly voice trickling through the speakers announcing the inevitable delay.

I think I have come to a point now where nothing that happens on a train in Scotland could surprise me, in a country where I am surprised every day.