a stash of blue ties...

I just spent half an hour sorting odd socks. Laugh all you want, but I found twenty pairs, so the joke's on you. Or maybe not on you, but on those lousy socks who just don't seem to want to stay together.

I have tomorrow in which to pack. I'm also getting my hair cut and going out in the evening, so the day will be pretty full, and I will be pretty stressed. Of course, I could have done it today but I went to the dentist and I bought a coat and I spent the evening in Stourbridge. With all the faffing that fell in-between, the day pretty much vanished. I did get as far as putting all my clothes haphazardly on my bed, but I couldn't get a case to put them in or anything because I'm always scared that if I go in the attic without somebody holding the ladder, it will slip and I will plunge down thirteen stairs to my death. It also means that my bed is occupied so I have nowhere to sleep. Troubling...

I went to the pub yesterday evening, but after I returned, I decided it would be fun to brush up on the ConDem cabinet (though I resent calling it this. 'Cabinet' implies a spirit of unity.) Aren't they a dismal lot? I pretty much googled each and every one and hated them all apart from William Hague and Vince Cable. Hague may be a big fat Tory, but he's intimidatingly bright, and that has to stand for something. Cable has a funny face, and I saw him at Cheltenham Literature Festival (he smiled at me as he was buying a hemp book bag). I do like him for other reasons besides his face, however. But not really. It's a good face.

George Osborne must be the worst. Just the very sight of him makes my skin crawl. He and Cameron both have this horrible smirk whenever they give an answer/lecture they are pleased with, and whenever they here the affirmative chorus of the back-benchers, most of whom seem to have barely changed since their days at public school. This is just speculation, of course. They might have come a long way since they were forced into that patriarchal, unnatural environment. But I doubt it...

Off to bed now.Where, I'm not quite sure, but I'm too tired to even drink my tea, let alone successfully ridicule our 'Government'. I might blog mid-pack tomorrow. Or would that be verging on sad/a waste of time? Sad/a waste of time could probably describe this whole blog Or life indeed. Wait, is that morbid?

and thatcher thought she had problems...

Harriet Harman has said that she would like the new Labour shadow cabinet to be compiled of a 50-50 split of men and women. I'm really not sure how I feel about this. While I am all for female empowerment and I believe that our lack of female MPs is a problem that needs addressing, I am fairly sure that strict quotas and restrictions are not the way to address it. If people think a woman is in power simply because she is a woman, it seems to discredit all the hard work she did to get there, doesn't it? Equally, if a man is better suited, more experienced, should a woman really be chosen over him? Nevertheless, our current Government seem to be little more than a clique of obnoxious Etonians born with a silver spoon in their mouth, who are supposed to understand and improve the plight of the working man. Something's gone wrong, hasn't it?

When faced with difficult times, our nation's knee-jerk reaction can be summed up in one word; regression. So maybe something drastic does need to be done, not only to bring more women into the picture, but also to radicalise our country, held back by war and the parasitic recession. Britain, while once progressive seems to be lagging behind; trapped by ceremony and overly aggressive politicians whose priorities are unclear and whose actions are far too motivated by a fear of upsetting the media. While other European countries are storming ahead, electing a much higher proportion of female MPs, it seems that in order to succeed in British Politics, a woman must become formidable and rigid; ridding herself of that vulnerable femininity in order to compete with her male counterparts. Many Asian countries have seen a spate of female leaders but liberal, forward-thinking Britain is drowning in patriarchy and really something should be done...

I want to make you cups of tea all night long in so many ways...

So the nation is doomed. The Conservacrats reign supreme and everything is shit. I do think though that this can be seen as a good thing. I'm not quite sure how yet. I'll keep you posted.

Tonight I went to see my lovely cousin Mikey in Lord of The Flies at Old Swinford school where he goes and my uncle teaches. I feel like a bit of a failure because all my knowledge of the play before tonight was based on an episode of Simpsons. I was thoroughly impressed though and definitely did NOT cry when people kept dying. Not at all...





Ooft. I think I'm in love...

Tory glory...

Have you ever seen Oliver and Company? The film is lame, but when I saw this, I couldn't help but think that this dog is a bit like the streetwise main character (also a dog. This could explain the resemblance). The thought of a politically active, thrill-seeking dog is strangely comforting on this day of mourning and general woe.

So we are effectively without government. It's quite exciting, though it was a disappointing night for everybody really. Of course I stayed up all night so I'm well and truly shattered today. I'm also dealing with the realisation that I now live in a Tory constituency. The West Midlands itself is almost entirely blue, with the important exception of Birmingham. It's places like Halesowen and Dudley which are the real surprises. I can think of nowhere more working class, so it seems odd that the majority voted Conservative. I can't really imagine that their community will thrive under right-wing rule, but maybe it's time for someone else to be under constant public scrutiny for a change.

One good thing has come out of this election, however. I have discovered that I really quite fancy David Milliband. My crushes seem to be becoming more and more middle aged and
demure. In my opinion this is no bad thing, though I'm sure there are a few psychologists in the world who would disagree...

Ingrid's not very happy today...

I love Ingrid Michaelson. She is nerdy and funny with a lovely voice and clever lyrics. Charlotte and I used to blast out a bit of Ingrid on the drive to school, but lately she has fallen by the wayside. I've just started listening to her again. She is refreshingly un-naff which is really my main requirement in a singer and she wears glasses. what's not to like?

So Gary Barlow is a Tory, eh? This revelation shocked and pretty much appalled me. He's in Take That! They used to dance around in cropped, spangly tops, for Pete's sake! However, you have to hand it to the guy for taking such a big risk. Will it affect sales of records? Probably not, but it can't do the Conservatives any harm...

I spent the day leafleting in Stourbridge. The sun turned a menial job into something fairly enjoyable, and with the amount of steps I have been up and down today, I will have a petite Kylie-esque bottom by the end of the week. I've also been told that you can't be nasty about someone who buys you ice cream. There's a loophole here somewhere, surely?

nutella goes large...

I am excited about the impending election. This will come as no surprise, I'm sure, but it's true. There are posters everywhere, politicians all over the t.v and puns all over the internet. Mark Garnier, the local Tory candidate, knocked on our door yesterday. He was lovely... Bastard. I am not naive. I know the chances of us actually winning are not that great, but they exist. In the meantime, the pace picks up and the stakes are continuing to rise.

I wonder what it is that determines everyone's place on the political scale. I think parentage has a lot to do with it, whether complying with your parents' views, or dashing their hopes in a deliberate rebellion. My mother is pretty left wing. She would probably disown me if I voted Conservative, but I like to think I would be around the same point on the spectrum with or without her influence. I'm in the classic ' idealistic, lefty student' phase. I very much hope this will never end. After all, I intend to be a student forever and ever. I will do my degree, then go travelling, then do an MA, then go travelling, then do a PhD in something useless with imaginary funds. I will then marry a penniless writer and live in an oh-so-bohemian squat in Paris during which, I will surely continue in my lefty ways. See, I've got it all mapped out...

I have decided to go to Nottingham, with Warwick as my second choice because it's a slightly lower offer. This is a slightly odd decision. This means Spanish not Italian as my second language, which will obviously be more useful (as hoards of people have told me). Not that any of this matters. I WILL be going through clearing unless I get my arse in gear. Oh the joys of uncertainty...

They make REALLY big jars of Nutella. Mind. Blown.

Also, the Juno soundtrack is probably my favourite album. Buy it. It rocks my socks...

rugby and rib-ache...

So it's half term. At last. And spring seems to be on the way (by which I mean there are some daffodils on the fireplace...) I had an ace weekend drinking far too much in Leamington Spa with the smelly big sister and her friends who are all pretty cool... I ended up watching all of the Six Nations rugby matches with many twenty-something boys who know much more than I do about the sport. The undeserved (though not unwelcome) Wales victory secured my good mood for the next few days. We also saw West Side Story at Warwick University which was really very good, though made me feel fat and very English and unskilled. But that's fairly commonplace...

I'm giving up meat tomorrow for Lent. I am determined to actually do it and will not relent. Not even when presented with a massive big steak and chips... wait, I'm salivating... I should be fine. I don't mind quorn mince and I'm always fond of good old lentil-based cuisine. I made really rather yummy Dahl the other day, following the recipe of an Indian friend. It was completely brilliant and I intend to make it a regular dish.

I'm supposed to be visiting Cardiff University tomorrow with my friend Rosie, but I have no idea whether or not she's expecting me. I don't have her number and her parents won't allow her to have Facebook (she is forced to spend the time more productively by doing work and suchlike things. I will never understand this). So I can't get in touch with her and I imagine this could cause a bit of tension when I do see her this week. Her parents already hate me. I ooze student lefty idealism and they are really rather Tory. I will have to rectify this. (The dislike, not the political stance. I am just one girl)

I went shopping in Birmingham yesterday and successfully squandered an impressive amount of money. I say squandered. I found a lovely high-waisted black skirt and a scarf in Zara, my new favourite shop. I find shopping cathartic, completely brilliant. In that respect, I am really rather girly.

My ribs hurt. Time for the doctors?