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May 29 What To Do?Sigh. Concentrating on revision is difficult. Or more specifically, concentrating on Classics revision is difficult, 'cos I've got a huge mental blockage about it. There's so much to learn, but I just can't get into it properly. I've decided to start by re-reading all the plays - this afternoon was 'Oedipus Rex' - and then I'm going to bullet-point everything. Themes, quotes, answers to past questions - bullet points are the way forward! The only thing is that I won't be able to just bullet-point in the exam... And when it comes to the Aeneid, I won't be able to bullet-point a 7000-plus-line text...
Doing revision is all the more difficult when people are around, it has to be said. Actually, what I really mean is, revision is all the more difficult when my brother is in the house, kicking a ball about in frustration 'cos he can't go outside when it's raining, watching the television at every spare minute when Mum's not in earshot, and generally driving me and my sister up the wall by being annoying and obstinate and irritating in a way that only 10-yr-old lads know how to. He admits himself that he doesn't know what to do with himself, but every constructive suggestion that any of us make just gets shrugged off, and we're back to square one.
To be fair, he's been a bit better today because him and Mum have made a start on re-painting his bedroom. Given that he'll be starting secondary school in the autumn and I'll be going away, I thought that it was only fair to offer him the bigger bedroom in exchange for his considerably smaller one; we'd swapped when I went into Y7 because unsurprisingly, I'd had the more stuff (he was 3 or 4 at the time). For a while he complained constantly, referring to the room as his, and glaring at 'his' clock every time he went past; up until relatively recently in fact. But on being offered a move back in, this time he's actually turning it down. Says he doesn't want the traffic noise at the front of the house or something, and it suits me! My stuff fits into my room as it is perfectly happily, but I might have had to do some fairly ruthless chucking-out if I were going to move... So as a compromise of sorts, Mum decided that he could redecorate his room to his own taste, replacing his teddy-bear duvet and pillow while she was about it. She's clearly got a bit more of an idea about street-cred than she had seven years ago..
She's also suggested that I might like to redecorate my own room over the summer. Nothing drastic like replacing furniture or carpets or anything, but now I look, it could do with a lick of paint in places! And it'll give me something to do after the exams are over, as a sort of focus, 'cos if you have three blank weeks in a row, it can probably feel quite flat at times. The task, of course, will be choosing a colour, bearing in mind that I have a reddy-pink carpet and curtains which have natural stuff all over them, like flowers.. I know, I'll put a sample on the bottom of this entry.. Neither carpet nor curtains are gonna be replaced to my knowledge, so I have a feeling that I'll need something neutral on the walls to avoid clashing in either direction.. What do you reckon?
*looks forward to getting mucky with paintbrushes!*
In fact, *looks forward to no more Classics revision* May 26 Why I'm Feeling Rather InadequateYesterday was a Bank Holiday in Switzerland - the Feast of the Ascension, possibly? Apparently, Dad went on a bike ride with some colleagues from ETH. The whole route was about 100km (63 miles). It involved a total ascent of 1500m, went over a mountain pass, then descended for another 1500m.
*whimpers!* May 25 Medical IssuesI went into school this morning to do some Maths, and sort out a couple of papers. I'm finding it really hard to motivate myself into doing any serious amount of work at home and I wanted company, so it wasn't too much of a hardship, especially as Sandra gave us a lift in (Helena's on D of E).
Anyway, I was sat on a table with a handful of other sixth formers in for similar reasons - Wyatt, Jas, and one of Jas' mates from the L6 - and as often happens, talk turned to next year and beyond. Jas' mate was thinking out loud about whether to drop Chemistry or Biology - and as his ambitions apparently lie in aeronautical engineering, it would seem that long term, it wasn't going to especially matter. Jas was advising him to go for Biology over Chemistry just because of the respective levels of difficulty involved, when he came out with something that has stuck with me all day - "But then I can't be a doctor."
This isn't meant to be an offensive on Jas' mate, by the way. I've never spoken to the guy before; will probably never speak to him again. I hope he succeeds because clearly he's got a good set of brains, and we need people like that in engineering. But what he said really got me thinking about how screwed up the whole Medicine thing has got.
For a start, we had to disenchant him about the idea of holding Medicine as a backup on the UCAS form. Mate, thousands and thousands of people apply to Medicine courses each year, most of whom are desperate to become doctors. I don't know the official statistics, but from what I've seen, you're bloody lucky to get a single offer, even with a glistening record and a driven personal statement. They're not going to look twice at someone whose statement concentrates on aeronautical engineering, with a 'oh, and I like helping people' thrown in at the end. You wouldn't stand a chance in hell.
For another thing, though, it called into question why all these people have applied for Medicine in the first place. And before any prospective Medicine students start cursing me, I'm sure that the majority genuinely do want to do it for the right reasons - because they want to help people, and they want to make a difference. But I have a strong suspicion that a significant minority are in it for the money, pure and simple. Think about all the people you know who have applied for Medicine. Can you honestly say that every single one of those people would still have applied if the average salary was 30 grand a year? Not that I think it should be - being a doctor is a very hard job, both physically and emotionally - but I would be fascinated to see how many people would still apply. How could you consider being a doctor as a backup to aeronautical engineering if it wasn't for the money? If your heart was truly in it, you'd just become a doctor anyway.
It's like the Dentistry thing. I can't see the attraction of being a dentist myself - spending your working life poking around in other people's mouths - and yet Dentistry courses are nearly as oversubscribed as Medicine ones. It must be for the money. The government refuses to fund proper dental healthcare on the NHS (which I think is absolutely scandalous). Dentists go private, if they haven't been already. Dentists charge a fortune, but still make money because people are willing to pay to protect their health. So what comes out is that Dentistry only attracts people on the make, and the whole ethos of a healthcare system is yet again undermined, because only the rich can afford it.
It's not that I resent people for wanting a good job with a good salary - that's fair enough. I want a reasonably well paid job myself, because like it or not, money will buy you a house in a nice area, clothes when you need them, and decent wholesome food. £120 will buy you a ball dress from Debenhams. But at what cost to others have you got that money? What values have you sacrificed to get where you are, and at what point does money become more important than - say - believing in the job you do?
What's the answer? I don't know. Certainly in the case of dentists, opticians, chiropractors and the like, it is to grant them proper NHS funding and pay sensible salaries - salaries which reflect the level of work involved, but are not disproportionate, which is what I think they have become. A fair salary should also be granted to all the nurses, midwives, radiographers etc who form the backbone of day-to-day healthcare. Private practices should be restricted, because they undermine the NHS and let the government shirk their responsibilities. But in terms of ensuring the right people are in the right jobs for the right reasons? That's tough. May 24 The Power Of The ConsumerI emailed BT today. The internet in the study has simply been driving me mad lately - after about 6 o'clock in the evening or something, it usually hasn't worked, quoting a DNS/ server error. When it has worked, it's been really slow and intermittent. Next door's wireless has been providing a temporary solution, but that was pretty slow as well for as long as they weren't using the 'net themselves, and I was starting to feel a bit bad about using their connection quite so much.
So a polite email, casually mentioning that we were considering changing supplier, was sent - within half an hour, they'd phoned up, apologised, and given me a number to ring back on when it next stopped working so they could test the connection. Funnily enough, our access this evening has been good as new. Coincidence, ennit...
Thursday: I think I spoke too soon... Blueyonder you say... May 23 The World In Which We LiveI spent two hours today dress hunting - the general idea is that the more occasions I look on, even if only for a short time, the more likely I am to find something. Well I found the dress! It was on a rack in Debenhams, there by itself, the last of its kind - and it was a size too small. I tried it on nevertheless, but I wouldn't have got away with it... *sigh*. It was sooo sooo beautiful... I told Mum about it when I met up with her again (she and Peter were trying to find trainers). Instead of commiserating with me that there were no size 12s, she gave me a look, said "Well I'm sorry Lucy, but you're definitely not size 12", then nearly had a heart attack when I mentioned that it had been £120. The main thing that got me narked, though, was the remark about the cost. £120 is a lot of money, I'm not denying it, but it's roughly what you would expect to pay for a ball dress, the retail world being what it is today. Mum doesn't understand this, though. She said that she had in mind something more like £60, £80 at a push. I believe the exact words were "I wouldn't pay £120 for a wedding dress, forget something that you're only going to wear on one occasion." She's still going on about that dress from Y10, but it's not my fault that I grew - believe me, it would have made my life a lot easier if I could have pushed a 'stop' button at 5'7" or thereabouts. And just because she lives in a world where she gets her hair cut for £2 a time, it doesn't mean that times haven't moved on elsewhere - a lot people pay ten times that without batting an eyelid. I suppose you've got to look at it from her perspective. When she was little, her dad was a farmer in Norfolk. The cottage didn't have windows that properly closed, forget central heating, and the only way that her family could afford to buy blankets was to give them as birthday presents. She never went without from a practical point of view, but there certainly wasn't money to buy extravagent clothes or the like. When it got to the sixth form of Norwich High School for Girls, everyone was given a choice of about ten fabrics, and they made their sixth form dresses in needlework classes. That's just how it was. Then after getting her degree and training as a teacher, she worked for a while in Olloton, a mining community where the pits were still just about open, and the entire population was on the breadline. So you can see why £120 for a dress sticks in the throat somewhat. It's also the 'live simply so that others may simply live' ethos, with reference to Africa and the like. The problem is, as ever, that I agree with her, at least on an ideological level. But I would still like a nice dress for the ball - and more to the point, I am not prepared to be the only girl in the whole of the U6 without a nice dress for the ball. I'll have to be wearing garden sandals as it is. I know people who have a choice of dress that they can wear. I know people who have spent £150+ without any qualms. I know somebody who is getting their dress made to order by a dressmaker, but has bought another from Monsoon 'just in case'. I know people who probably spend in excess of £100 a month on clothes that they don't need, and will only wear once then discard. I'm not saying that that sort of behaviour is either sensible or admirable - I'm just saying that Mum's perspective is a long long way off from that of your average 18 yr old nowadays. I can't even pay for anything myself, 'cos I've never been able to get a job, and my pocket money is £20 a month - again perfectly reasonable given what else my parents pay for, but it's not going to go far with a ball dress. Out of the window, too, goes shoes (even if I could find any to fit, hahaha), beauty treatments or a special hairdresser's appointment for the day. Phh. I guess it's about priorities, and I guess I should be proud of my parents that they uphold their beliefs in what's important, but in the meantime I'm gonna be the odd one out. Again. May 20 MusingsSo x weeks? months? later, Lucy catches on... It would seem that 'MySpace' is now the preferred medium for having a lil corner on the Internet. I linked to one by mistake, and discovered a whole realm of people who I can learn about at the click of a mouse! It would also explain why large numbers of people abandoned their MSN blogs seemingly concurrently.. *detective work complete!*
What I don't get is why MySpace is any better than all of the other blogging sites out there. OK, it allows to you add 'friends' and a profile, and also allows you to receive seemingly unprompted messages from the said friends.. I think I must have missed something somewhere! But I can link to other friends' blogs on MSN - they link themselves when they add comments - and I'm perfectly capable on filling in my Profile section, I've just never bothered because the people for whom this blog is the most interesting and relavant, I assume know me anyway! And the concept of 'friends' seems to mean something different on MySpace - you seem to accumulate people who you have never met, or talked to, or are likely to talk to. You just want to look popular, but it seems a pretty bizarre premise for popularity, having 100+ people who like the same band but are otherwise complete pricks..
Maybe I've missed the point, but I reckon that all it shows is people's taste for all things new and shiny - oo look, a new website format, I want one! Then the next one comes out and they want one of those as well, having got bored with the first that they now can't see the point of. *should make enlightened comment about society but instead shakes head in mild amusement*
I'm killing time until the Young Musician of the Year final in quarter of an hour. Missed all the semi finals through not having BBC4 (or a Freeview box, or indeed a television with a scart socket) but they usually do a brief recap anyway, at least to introduce the finalists. Should be good :) May 18 PhotosThe latest lot have gone up! It's still not entirely sunk in that we're never going back. Well, we are for exams, but that's not quite the same as properly going back to lessons and stuff. :(
I've created a separate album for the 'decorations' that we made to R3. Or rather, Chris made, and the rest of us contributed ideas to... According to Miss Plackett herself, they caused quite a stir! I was walking past outside before Mr Oakley's lesson first thing, and she gave me a look through the window, of the highest order of suspicion! All the notices have come down now, but I made sure I got a record of them first! Of course, they're funniest if you know what the originals were, but I think anyone can get the general idea. Do take a look if you haven't seen them already! The Time Has ComeLa la la. Don't want to leave school. Not listening...
 May 16 Something I Can Admit..now I no longer have Mr Middleton as a teacher.
For a 40-yr-old man, he is damn good looking! May 13 The AUTHas anyone else been following the AUT strike in the news at the minute? Obviously I haven't had much choice in the matter. I'm still not entirely sure which 'side' I agree with, 'cos while the union are maybe taking things a little bit too far, they do have a valid point which the government has refused to listen to for the past x years. I typed out a very long, very angry entry earlier - then my Internet yet again excelled itself in its connectivity and stopped working at the crucial moment, which is probably just as well. It's very difficult not to get worked up about the whole business when it has such an immediate effect.
Dad is not striking - partly because he's not in the country anyway, partly because he doesn't want extra work over the summer and even less pay, and mainly because he thinks that it is unethical and irresponsible. But obviously if others in the department are, there are knock-on effects. He's coming home Thursday for three or four days because his head of dept. wouldn't excuse him from marking exam papers (despite official sabbatical leave), but if the said papers are being held hostage under lock and key by his colleagues, there isn't a lot he can do about it (- we might even get to talk to him...*bites tongue*). At least he can prove that he's not the one responsible for the results not being in.
What I would be interested in is hearing what other people think about it, maybe who can view the whole business more objectively. If you live with an issue it becomes hard to know what's influencing what, sometimes. May 12 You Gotta Love 'EmMe: "So, there were these chavs in hoodies..."
Mum: "What's the difference between a chav and a hoodie?"
Oh dear..
I've put a load of photos up. The first few are from the Spring Concert, the rest from the last week or so. Probably not terribly interesting for non-school people, I guess, but I like them! And there will be more if I get my way with the camera! May 11 SophieRoy, my clarinet teacher, has a cat called Sophie. She is a beautiful black cat with a delicate head that seems very small in proportion to the rest of her, and large green eyes. Each lesson, she stalks around in the hall, where Mum is waiting. She stares at Mum, and if Mum doesn't respond, she meows loudly and piteously until Mum says something to her - only looking at her will not do, it would seem. Today, apparently, she got up on her hind legs and clawed at the chair until Mum told her firmly to get down. She must have taken offense at the tone, and pushed the door open, slinking into my lesson.
Each time she does this, she meows and wails loudly with the music, climbing all over the sofa and the windowsill before Roy removes her for fear of his large piles of CDs. He picks her up and takes her out of the room, and all the time she is complaining vociferously and eyeing you up over his shoulder. Now I realise that a lot of cats are probably attention seeking, but Sophie is one of the most vocal ones I have ever come across. She is also one of the cleverest, and knows every trick in the book to get her way.
Roy says that he and his housemate Michelle are attempting to carry out a zero-tolerance policy, where they ignore her cries and don't talk to her too much - he says it's getting ridiculous. But Roy is the sort of person who I can imagine carrying out long conversations with his cat while in the kitchen, or while reading a book or listening to music - he's that sort of person - and he's got such a wonderful voice that I can imagine that an animal becoming attached to him very quickly.
I find it very funny! And of course, you can't laugh and play the clarinet at the same time, so Sophie will just have to learn to keep quiet, I guess. But it all adds to the slight air of eccentricity that Roy carries about him.. I've never ever had such a good clarinet teacher. May 10 PreparationsIn an attempt to stave off the depression of leaving school, I've decided to go around attacking people with a camera - it'll serve the dual purpose of distracting me and providing pictures with which I can remember people later. So be warned! I'll probably put up the decent ones when I've got enough to make it worth creating an album - at the minute I just have a lot of the back of Miss (taken at the Spring Concert rehearsals in case you were wondering!) and a large number of multicoloured shots of Pete where I was trying and failing to work out the lighting in the hall.
Mwahahaha, you cannot escape me and my zoom lens! :)
I spoke to MRO today about borrowing a chair from R4 for the exams, because they are sooo much more comfortable than the ones in the hall, and I'm not looking forward to hours on end of back pain. The January Maths modules were bad enough and they only lasted 90 minutes each. Anyhow, he suggested that I talk to Miss Griffith about it. When I'd explained to her that I have problems and that I've been having chiropractic treatment for the past year, she said that if I get an official letter to confirm the problem, it can be made provision for. Which basically means that I can be given five minute breaks every hour in which I can walk around and stuff, without losing any writing time, and I can have a better chair, which is well worth doing. It means I'll do my exams in MU2 rather than the hall, probably, but it'll be 100% worth it. Any longer than an hour in the same position, and I'm in serious pain. Multiply that by six hours of Maths exam in the same unsupportive seat .. Not pleasant. May 08 Stroppy CowThat refers to me, by the way, for anyone left wondering.
Basically there's too much stressful stuff right at the minute, and I can hear myself getting grumpier and grumpier as each day goes on. I'm snapping at people I shouldn't. Remarks that I mean to come out as light-hearted are being taken the wrong way, and I wonder if I've just got an unintended edge to my voice when I say them. Last week things were particularly bad cos I get bad PMT, but this week I don't even have that as a reason to be all over the shop. Admittedly I was up 'til 11.30 last night, trying to organise and print out files for my Music coursework (and I don't care what sarcastic remarks people make, if I'm up past ten then I will be vile for the next day or two. It's just how I am). And admittedly the recording session today went particularly badly. But I shouldn't be getting quite this worked up, cos I know it's only counterproductive in the longer term. I just can't help it.
The Music stuff. How it works is you do your composition for 20% of the total A2 marks, but it has to be linked into your investigation/report which accounts for another 20%. With that you choose your pieces (within certain criteria, obviously), and so it's a good idea to do music that you like, music that you're familiar with, and preferably music that you've performed at some stage. So Joe's done violin sonatas, Chris flute concerti, and Emma piano suites, for obvious reasons. I could have done clarinet concerti I suppose, but I decided that I knew most about choral singing, and knew more repertoire - so I chose to compare two 'Gloria' settings, by Vivaldi and Rutter, both pieces that I've sung and enjoyed. The investigation and report, with one or two initial hiccups, has gone absolutely fine, 'cos basically I know what I'm talking about.
The problem has been the composition. Not so much with the composing of - various strops along the way and a bit of fiddling around on a piano have just about sorted that out. Granted it's not fantastic, but there's only one short-ish passage that I actually dislike - the rest will do. As ever, the problem is recording it, because computers can't sing. They can simulate orchestras, make a stab at pianos (admittedly not the best feature of Sibelius), and transpose parts galore. A synthesised version will never be the same as a live performance, but for the purposes of A Level submission, it works perfectly well - provided there are no voices involved. As soon as you want singers, you need a live recording.
Mine's a compromise. I've got synthesised brass and organ as an accompaniment to live SATB, with one singer on each part. I could scrape together brass at a push, but it would be very complicated and no-one would have the time anyway, so that's out really. Next problem, though: no decent singers. You would have thought, would you not, that in a mixed school of over 1000 pupils, you would have two males (two: one, two..) who could sight-sing? One tenor, one bass. Is it that much to ask? There's less of a problem with the upper parts - Miss is taking soprano, I'm doing the alto - but the trouble I've had getting four singers together in the same room at the same time, with music and microphones... geez...
Problem no.1 is violin players who think that singing requires no effort, it's all easy, and then who are surprised when they find that they can't sing the part juste comme ca. Not mentioning any names, of course. Problem no.2 is the fact that Miss' timetable is completely inflexible, and she's barely in school when she's not teaching Y8s (most of whom couldn't care less anyway - possible solution in telling the Y8s to get lost?). Problem no.3 is that it takes half an hour to set up the bloody equipment in the first place. But I couldn't *not* do choral music because there aren't the singers to facilitate a good recording. What if voice was my only instrument? What if I went to a girls' school and there were no male voices at all?
And of course the main problem is that everyone is so stressed, staff included, that we're all getting frustrated with each other, and everything is taking much longer than it should have done in the first place. It's at times like this that I wish I had done Physics or Chemistry. I'd've been bored out of my tiny mind, but at least I wouldn't have had this sort of practical difficulty in scraping the marks together. May 06 Little ThingsMum and I did the food shopping this morning. We got to Sainsburys to discover that everything was new - new trolleys, a new set of inside doors, and as it turned out, a new inside layout. You would not believe the bedlam that ensued.
Basically, everyone's food lists (our's included) were based on the old layout, because it's been the same for a long long time. So at the top of the lists were fruit and veg, followed by canned veg, followed by fruit juice/ cheese and so on. This was the most efficient way of getting round, because you knew where things were, ticked off items on the list in order, and didn't have to keep going back for things you'd forgotten.
As a result of the change, people were completely thrown when the lists didn't tally with the aisles any more. You couldn't get your trolley through quickly because people were stopped in the way, scrutinising their little pieces of paper to see whether they really did need chopped tomatoes or not. You couldn't just nip to the wholewheat spaghetti because you weren't sure which aisle it was on any more - all of the big hanging signs had been taken down, and new ones weren't up yet. And my god, it was disconcerting to be in the frozen food section and still not have come across any cereal!
It's weird how you only notice your dependence on familiarity and routine when it's taken away from you. May 05 FirebirdWent to the ballet last night! The main reason that we went was 'cos the Firebird Suite is our set work for Music A2, and the Firebird (complete version) was the third ballet being performed. It wasn't actually an organised department trip, but we all thought that it would be nice to go so we (or rather I) ordered tickets together. So it was Joe, Emma, Chris and I, plus Beci Scott who wanted to come anyway!
The other works were also ones written by Stravinsky (or the scores, at least). 'Apollo' was a bit weird, I'll admit, though I couldn't tell how much of that was the music and how much the choreography. I know enough about ballet to appreciate the fact that the story isn't necessarily the most important thing, and that a lot of the movement is for the artistic effect that it creates, but sometimes I just don't feel like I 'get it'. It's like when people enthuse about certain types of abstract art. Some abstract art I like - it's pretty, or disturbing, or serene. Some abstract art is interesting, in the shapes and patterns it creates, and I can appreciate that. Some of the best abstract art plays out a concept before you, and that is very clever. But when you ask me to look for meaning in a blue square, or a single dash of paint, that's where I have problems, and I think that this ballet was a bit like that. It wasn't that I disliked the music or anything. I just didn't 'get it'.
'Pulcinella' was really good though - I think the fact that it had a plotline helped, albeit a fairly basic one. But the music was easier to come to new than 'Apollo', and there was more of a theatrical sense all round, with the dancers involving acting much more, and more interesting set/ costumes. It would seem, though, that Joe didn't 'get' this one - again he fell asleep! I say 'again' because last week it was during the Elgar Cello Concerto at Symphony Hall..
And the Firebird was simply awesome! I'd spent the second interval having a major panic because I couldn't find my mobile phone (which turned up again at the end of the night, fortunately). I'd got back to the others by the three minute call, though, asked where Joe was, and got informed that he was off seeing the manager. A minute later he ran back, telling us to grab our stuff and come quickly because he'd got us a box!!! Goodness knows how - I wouldn't have even thought of it, never mind had the confidence to pull it off - but have a box we did, and spent the last third of the evening in the utmost style, being given funny looks by the posh people opposite who had clearly paid a large amount of money for the same privilige!
Of course, we could only then see half the stage, so it was more the experience of being in those seats than anything. What we could see, however, was amaaaaazing, just like on Sir's DVD, only live and closer. The costumes were fantastic, the dancing great (as far as I could tell, anyway. I don't know anything about the technicalities of ballet - I'm just impressed at how far they can get their legs up with so little effort!). Plus, we had a prime view of the orchestra, which is maybe how Joe got the seats - the spiel about poor music students and all that. Compared to the CD, it has to be said, the orchestra weren't outstanding - one or two tempos were a bit funny, and the bass drum player totally ruined his chances in 'Final Hymn'. But it's an incredibly hard score, and there were some fantastic individual players, including a mean clarinettist - and what it really amounts to is that you can't beat live versions of stuff! An occasion to remember! May 04 Everyone Go Vote!I'm feeling awfully big and grown up. I've just voted!
Despite the fact that Birmingham is actually a Tory-Liberal coalition (or has been, anyway), our local councillor is Tory, and we all know what that means... I don't know whether my vote will have done anything to shift that - I sincerely hope so, but I wasn't going to not vote. Apathy makes me angrier than the whole Conservative party put together, because I don't care what people say, politics does affect everybody. You might not think you care about what goes on at the council, but you still moan when the buses don't work and your shoe still rips when you step in a pothole...grrrr....ok, over that one for the minute. But if someone from the council had filled that pothole in, I wouldn't be a pair of shoes down. It all makes a difference.
I know it's a secret ballot and all that, but I don't mind saying that I voted for the Lib Dems. Hardly a surprise, if you've heard me talk about politics at all. We had six candidates. The three main parties, obviously. Barney (the gardener from Woodbrooke), not to be put off by last year's general election, was standing again. Credit to the man, he clearly believes in what he's doing. Why didn't I vote for him? I'm not sure. Just instinctively I'm wary of single-issue parties. Don't get me wrong, the environment's the best single issue you could ever stand for, and it influences a lot of other decisions, but there's a slight danger of getting so obsessed by your one issue that everything else gets neglected. What would the Green party have to say on reducing teenage pregnancy, say? Use bio-degradable condoms? The Respect party also springs to mind. Yes, they're against the war in Iraq, but what about school admissions?
We had a BNP candidate, which frankly I find scary. Bournville's by no means perfect, but it's hardly skinhead-central. Someone in Merritts Brook had used petrol on a patch of grass to inscribe the initials 'BNP'; seeing it from the bus just made me shiver. It's one thing to have a crazy-man standing for election but quite another to think that people might actually vote for them.
And our sixth candidate, believe it or not, was from the Monster Raving Loony Party! In fact, it turns out we are honoured to have the 'Parish Poisoner', no less, in our ward. It occured to me on the way back from the polling station that, theoretically, a Monster Raver (or whatever they call themselves) could get a seat on the council - potentially even in Parliament - and what then? What would their policies be? To take the piss out of the speaker's wig, or whatever it is they do in Parliament? Look at their environmental policy, which I found on the 'net. Seriously! I dread to think what they would do about my pet pothole...
So if you are British, 18 or over, and reading this before 10pm tonight, if you haven't done so already, get your ass out and vote! Even if, as suggested by the MRLP, you draw a pretty picture on your paper because you don't want to vote for any of the listed candidates, you've made your voice heard. I actually think that we ought to have compulsory voting in this country. As a nation, it's too easy for us to be apathetic - look at Iraq, where people queued for hours and hours, risking getting blown up because they were so desperate to cross that ballot paper. You don't know what you've got until it's been taken away. May 02 Why Do I Even Bother?I was walking the last bit along to the bus stop this morning. I caught my foot in a pothole. Or rather, I didn't catch my foot in a pothole - the foot came out and the shoe stuck where it was. My sole pair of black school shoes are now completely ripped, or at least the right one is, across the buckle and into the side. I have no school shoes.
As an emergency solution, Mum brought in to school the cheap plastic shoes that I bought a couple of months ago (my god, am I glad that I did) and I've been wearing those all day. You can feel the ground through the soles and they are completely unsupportive. Unsupportive shoes = bad posture = backache, as any six year old with a bit of common sense could probably tell you. For those who have less common sense than a six year old and want this verifying, try http://www.chiroweb.com/find/tellmeabout/foot.html .
Mum and I just went to Stead and Simpson in Harborne where the last pair came from. Well, surprise surprise, they couldn't help. Their glossy adverts that they do ladies' shoes up to size 9 are completely misleading, because when it comes to it, they only do a handful of styles, most of which are old ladies' shoes, and all of which are really wide, because if you have long feet you must have wide feet as well, right? I mean, duh. Let's say that one of the ten styles offered was appropriate - even then you have to order the shoes in (with a deposit) just to try them on, because they don't keep any in stock. So you have to spend weeks to-ing and fro-ing, just to ascertain that the pair of shoes in question don't fit - you're back to square one, x weeks later, and you still don't have any shoes.
What the fuck is the point? They must realise that there is a need for size 9 women's shoes just by the fact that they manufacture them, so why not actually make them available to buy? Plus, the chances are that if you have big feet you are also tall, and the majority of tall women are younger rather than older, so why only stock old ladies' styles?
Clarks are just as bad, if not worse, because they make more effort in their advertising, only to present an even more limited range of shoes at the end of it. Once, a shop assistant brought out the entire range of size 9 shoes on a stand (yes that's right, one stand). Three-quarters of the shoes available were huge chunky black things, possibly suitable for a chubby matron from the 1950s, but forget anybody else, or anybody who wanted some *nice* shoes to wear. The remaining pairs included a couple of styles of trainers, which looked suspiciously like they'd been nicked from the men's department, some spindly stiletto-style sandals with 3-inch heels (newsflash, tall women don't want three inch heels to compound the problem) and a token pair of dolly shoes. The dolly shoes where chunky and had plastic soles. They were white, pale sick-green and orange. I rest my case.
What about Faith, I hear people cry. Well what Faith call size 9 is what Clarks call size 8, because of the way that European sizes don't quite correspond to UK ones. So Faith's 'size 9' range is still too small. Ditto Topshop. And Barratt's 'tall and small' range falls under the same category as Clarks', unless it's vastly improved since I went in there. Next's (again v limited) size 9 range take weeks to order, are only available at certain times of the year (I jest not), and are also wide fitting. Evans do 'big shoes' which means uber-wide as well as long.
For anyone who thinks I am being picky; for anyone (and there are quite a lot of people who claim to fall into this category) who is 'always seeing loads of size 9 shoes everywhere they look'; for anyone who thinks they can solve my problems: provided I'm not ill at the weekend - the nurse who gave me my MMR booster jab last Friday assured me that I will have a fever by then - provided I'm not ill, I am designating Saturday solely for shoe shopping. If you think you can solve my problems by guiding me to all the shoes that I have missed, I will meet you at the Bull Ring at 11'o'clock. If I come away with some shoes due to your help, I will be ecstatically happy. If I do not, I will term you picky, tell you that you are not trying hard enough, and then rail at you for several hours until you get the fucking point. Agreed?
Of course, all of this is my own fault in the first place. If I wasn't so fucking BIG and I didn't have such fucking BIG FEET I wouldn't be in this mess now, would I? |
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