24 @ 24

So, I am writing this on my birthday eve. Technically, it is 00:14 and very much my birthday but I am yet to go to sleep so not counting it. I find birthdays really funny. It is going to sound really knobby of me to say but I love other peoples. I live for bringing them cake or taking them out for lunch. Birthday nights out are my favourite because I feel like people take it as an excuse to let loose and have the most fun. Yet I am not so hot on my own. I find them a bit embarrassing and aside from the presents and nice food I always end up feeling really reflective. Apparently that is a sign of getting old but we are going to skip over that.

I had so many ideas of what 24 would be. I thought I would be a real adult by 24. Today I ate a cheese sandwich on partially frozen bread because I still don’t know how to use the defrost function on our microwave… I thought I would have moved out by 24. Whilst I did move out I boomeranged straight back again. Perhaps most farfetched, about a decade ago I thought I would be married by 24…lol. So, as this isn’t the most original idea in the world, but I did enjoy looking back in the post I wrote last year and it is my birthday so you can just allow it, here are the 24 things I have learnt at 24.

• Be more impulsive (good)

I don’t know why but this year I seemed to have been better at being impulsive. I am a thinker and a worrier. I contemplate holidays months in advance, plan my weekends out meticulously, it takes me about an hour to work out what I want for lunch. Typical Libra and I know, I sound like a hoot. This year I have been so much better at just booking trips away, staying out just because, and doing what I want to do without worrying too much. I got a new tattoo and didn’t spend two months fretting about what other people would think, I chilled out about holidays which meant I got to see three new, incredible cities (Paris, Budapest, and Barcelona) and didn’t have a stress induced migraine in the process. Being more impulsive has definitely served me well this year.

• Quality friends

It is funny when you leave uni. You go from being in this environment where you are surrounded by people constantly to the big, wide world where you are working all hours of the day and sleep becomes a luxury. Your friendship circle seriously depletes. However, the friends that you do have are the best. They are the ones that you don’t see for months at a time but when you do it is like no time has passed and you immediately revert back to being ridiculous. It is the best.

• ‘Be careful what you wish for’ is shit

Just because you have wished for something, worked insanely hard for it, and wanted it for the longest time doesn’t mean that when you get it you have to be 100% joyful 24/7. I am so incredibly thankful that I get to use my degree in what I do and that someone is willing to pay me to write. But am I happy all of the time? No. For so long I thought I was being ungrateful for moaning about the jobs that I thought I was supposed to want when in reality no job is perfect and you are allowed to have a little bit of a bitch.

• Work wives are essential

I say work wives but they can be guys too. Having people around you that understand what you do and who you work with so when you do have those times where you are ripping your hair out a bit they totally get it. It is the nicest feeling to celebrate someone else’s success when you know how hard they work and how much they deserve it. Plus, what is a work day if you can’t find a quiet spot to have a procrastination coffee?

• Seek out mentors

Before I started working I didn’t consider the importance of having someone who has gone before me to chat things through to. I think so often we feel like we are going at things alone and no one understands the struggling of breaking into a career. Having someone there to get a little bit of guidance from makes things 100000 times easier. Plus, it is always nice to get a bit of inspo from someone who genuinely cares if you’ll do well.

• Friend are your best source of advice and comfort

I don’t know about yours but my friends are really fucking wise. In all seriousness, if I have done a silly thing and am having an emotional breakdown (which happens about twice a month, usually just before and after pay day) they just know what to say. They may be far away or know no better than you but there is nothing a soothing, ‘it’s okay I have done that too’ can’t solve.

• Hangovers are worse

I thought I knew what a hangover was. I was wrong. In uni I would get a headache and maybe heart burn and I would mope about on the sofa like someone had given me a death sentence. Now it is just better for everyone if I don’t move my body at all the morning after I have had any more than four glasses of wine.

• Don’t question it, buy it

This is the sole reason why using my card can be a bit like using a gift card, you never quite know how much is on there. I am not talking about letting mad 1 am ASOS binges become the norm but if you have seen something and pined after it, it is probably just better to get it. What if you finally talk yourself round to buying it and then it’s gone? No one wins. Plus a little treat coffee here and there is good for you.

• Talk about money

This is an extension of the point prior but this year I have got so much better at talking about money. After months of putting it off I finally sat down with my dad and opened a proper savings account. I spoke more about money with friends than I ever have before which can be painfully eye opening. I also stopped being embarrassed and weird about how much I earn and what I chose to spend my money on. Because I stopped feeling shy and secretive about money I started to spend it more wisely (about 90% of the time).

• Money comes and goes but experiences don’t

When I was younger I used to be really fearful of spending large amounts of money on things like flights, train tickets, rooms. The boring purchases. This year I have realised that if I just don’t buy that Pret every morning that in reality is making me fat and poor, I can afford to go away more. Once I stopped stressing about the money I was spending I got to enjoy doing and seeing amazing things. I haven’t thought about the £300 it cost for me to go to Budapest but I think about the fun we had all the time!

• Sometimes you just need to stop

This sounds really profound but I mean it in the most literal sense of the saying. I went away to Barca at the end of summer. It was a jam packed city break with 4 other girls. Needless to say it was very eventful. On the last day we were mooching around the city before our flight and we went to lie by the Arc De Triumph (there is one in Barca I am not just an idiot). I lay with my best friend of 20 years (eek) and we people watched, laughing at what people were wearing and berating the cringe couples trying to achieve the perfect angle with their selfie sticks. It was great.

• Stop being a brat to mum and dad

I found the transition moving home last October really hard. I was bratty to my parents who were so kindly housing, feeding, and putting up with me again after I had spent 4 years at university begging for beer money every two weeks. As much as I hate to say it, they are nearly always right and always want the best for me so reverting back to a misunderstood 15 year old needs to stop.

• Life is one big battle to be healthy

I try to be healthy, I really do but I feel like life is one constant battle of wanting to eat well and eating and drinking everything in sight. I think instead of fighting the urge to eat the bagel I now need to work on just accepting it and not feeling guilty.

• You are going to feel old sometimes

As much as I moan 24 isn’t old, gone are the days that you can go for a uni reunion night out at the Students Union and not live in fear that ‘Joe’ (insert any common uni boy name) has lied about his age, is actually 18, and you are going to be put on some sort of register before the night is over. I may start employing an ID system, you can never be too safe.

 

• Beyonce has the same hours in the day is also shit

I love Queen B, believe me. However, if I read one more Instagram quote that says Beyonce has the same amount of hours in the day as me I swear to all that is good in this world… Yes, she does. She also has about 100000 people helping her, is a real adult, and probably doesn’t have to deal with doing her own washing/ cleaning/ cooking on top of the other things that are required when you are queen.

• Stop saying sorry

I apologise for everything and frankly, it is embarrassing. Someone will walk into me, I’ll apologise. Someone will be sat in my seat on the train, I’ll apologise. Someone will make a mistake at work, I will apologise. STOP IT!

• Guard your heart

This year has been all change and in that I have been open to being hurt a lot. That is fine but I think at times I stopped sticking up for myself, and backing myself just to make other people more comfortable. It sounds really lame but I have let people hurt me over and over so not to be an inconvenience. For my own sake, I can’t do that anymore.

• It is okay to be vulnerable

At the same time, vulnerability isn’t weakness. If I have any hope in getting close to anyone I can’t hold them at arm’s length. If, once I let them in, they decide to fuck it up then that is fine. That’s on them, it isn’t a reflection of me.

• Take *a* weekend

Just because you choose to stay in on a Saturday night, face mask and leopard print pj’s on with a good book doesn’t make you boring. After weeks of mad trips, work and having fun over summer I burnt out. Spending a weekend to myself to just do nothing, not think about work, and not see anyone made me better when I resumed plans the week after.

• Bed time is not phone time

My dad used to tell me not to use my phone in bed and it used to really irritate me. I don’t sleep well and the fact that he would put that down to my precious social media accounts seemed ridiculous, only it wasn’t. He was right (as per) and now I have done the very adult thing of leaving my phone on the other side of the room and reading before bed I usually drop off before 2 am. I am a changed woman.

• You can’t always prevent bad things from happening to you

Searching for and stressing over every little thing that can go wrong isn’t going to stop bad things happening to me. This sounds so silly but I would obsess over being on time, not sharing  with new people in case they thought I was too much, or going over and over work in case I offended someone. It turns out trains run late, people are going to dislike me regardless, and someone somewhere is always going to be offended if you share your opinions online so it is better to just try and enjoy yourself.

• Twitter is not the place for love

I love having twitter crushes. Someone who is so hilarious, and informed, and witty in 240 characters and they are cute in their picture too. This September I learned it is okay to have these crushes, it is not okay to have a bottle of wine and then tweet them your proclamation of love. Especially if they work in the same field as you. Jill I am sorry, it was the Sauv Blanc.

• You’re getting old, moisturise

As much as I hate that this is completely patriarchal pressure but I would quite like to not have wrinkles and the amount I worry would suggest I will look 50 by the time I am 30. I have got the hair sitch under control, you won’t be seeing any greys through this black hair dye. However, I am not too sure I can commit to the Botox life just yet. Gone are the days where I would sleep in last night’s makeup and let my skin dry out to a crisp. Girls not getting wrinkles.

• Mental health above all

Lastly, this year I have realised that if my mental health is in a shitty place everything suffers but it isn’t my fault. Whilst, in the past, I have used going out and masking my problems with a hangover as a way of pushing any issues to the bottom of the pile this year I feel like I have found some ways of legit dealing with things. Writing stuff down, talking it out and if I need it, taking myself away for a little bit.

Wow, so that was long. Maybe as I get older I can just share my top five bits of sage wisdom. Because obviously within the next year I am going to stop being a dick on social media after a glass of wine, will have the perfect job, and maybe even a partner and child (lol eww no thanks). Here is to another completely ridiculous, hopefully even more eventful year.

 

 

72 hours in Budapest

Once again we are just going to ignore the time stamp on this post as I got back from Budapest a week ago and have essentially been sour ever since. As per usual, on the run up to the trip I managed to work myself up into a ‘what am I doing with my life? I will never succeed’ frenzy so waking up on Thursday morning and going to pick up my best friend was sweet relief. I had been on the planning team for coverage of the Royal Wedding all week so if anyone so much as muttered the names Harry or Meghan to me I think I would have snapped. I was on the edge.

The idea to go to Budapest was born like all great plans are, over crisps and wine (mine and Becky’s speciality dinner). I didn’t really know what to expect but had heard amazing things and at that point, a break anywhere would have been welcomed- be that Budapest or my bed for a Netflix binge.

After too many nights of sitting in the garden over a laptop and wine planning the trip it felt weird to be setting my out of office email on Wednesday night and actually think about the fact that I had to pack, wash my hair, shave my legs, tan and get into general holiday mode.

Budapest wasn’t really like any city I had visited before. I thought it might remind me a little of Prague or Amsterdam but it was so different.

Days:

One of the best decisions I made was choosing to go away with Becky. I thought I was organised but that girl is the holiday prep queen. We pre-booked two walking tours and a boat trip before we left which meant we had a general idea of what our days looked like before setting off, preventing aimless wandering around the streets.

I know she wouldn’t mind me saying that Becky and I have straight up no sense of direction. A bad combination of google maps not working and a paper map in Hungarian meant that we spent most of the first night wandering the streets looking for wine. The first walking tour sorted that right out. Lead by an insanely cool woman (the only kind you see when you’re away on holiday) she took us through Pest, across to Buda and back again giving us great recommendations on ruin bars, clubs and cafes. She also took us to some of the most beautiful spots in the city.

The next day (slightly hungover) we decided to take a communist walking tour- perks of going away with a history graduate. Lead by the sassiest guide, the tour was completely different, taking us around Budapest’s financial district, government buildings and remaining soviet monuments. Sadly though, the heavens opened and as Becky and I decided we were going on holiday and would bring the sun with us, we were wearing shorts. We took shelter in a nearby café before escaping back to the hotel for a little pre-sesh nap.

On the last day (majorly hungover and tired beyond belief at this point) we begrudgingly packed our bags, tried to put the room back together (hiding all wine bottles) and checked out. We went on to the House of Terror- a museum dedicated to the fascist and communist regimes. Budapest has so many museums and sights that I never would have pushed to go to the House of Terror had the communist tour guide not recommended it so highly and I am really glad we did. It gave political and social context as to why Budapest is like it is today. In the afternoon we took a boat trip down the Danube to Margaret Island. This is one of Budapest’s loveliest parks and is a nice place to escape the noise and bustle of downtown. While Margaret Island is mainly a great place for a stroll, there are a few attractions including Sculpture Avenue, medieval ruins, a small zoo, swimming pools, an outdoor waterpark/beach, and a health spa resort. It was the perfect way to spend our last afternoon, mooching about in the sun with an ice cream.

Nights:

The nightlife and food scene in Budapest is amazing! As two gals who more than enjoy a glass of wine and a good meal it did not disappoint. Food and drink is so cheap and delicious and there is so much choice.

On the first night, after some wandering around and getting lost (alcohol did not aid our sense of direction) we found ourselves in a queue for Instant- 2 houses converted into 6 bars, 3 dancefloors and 2 gardens. It was HUGE. We got talking to a few people while we waited to get in and ended up spending the whole night with them. The perks of meeting people when you’re away- if they’ve been in the city longer than you they know all the good places to go to and people are so friendly when they’re away. It also didn’t hurt that they were Italian.

Before we went away everyone who I spoke to recommended the ruin bars so on our last night we met up with the guys from the night before and took one of their recommendations. The bars were insanely cool set in the ruins of abandoned buildings, none of the furniture matched, the environment is super relaxed so it is dead easy to strike up a conversation and it was in no way like anything that we have in the UK. We stayed until 5:30 and then wandered back to the hotel as the sun was coming up over the city.

DISLAIMER:

I loved Budapest. It was a really beautiful city if a little rough around the edges. There is so much we didn’t get to do and we are already planning our trip back. The only downside I would say is that it seems to be a prime destination for stag dos. I’m familiar with being cat called and dealing with creeps on nights out but I have never experienced anything like how bad it was. It became a bit of a joke in the end- the final straw being two Japenese guys approaching us and trying to chat us up using google translate… it was a strong no. Aside from this, people were really friendly and if you brushed it off or ignored them it wasn’t threatening.

Being away has left me feeling refreshed, I just can’t get off skyscanner now. A week of work has left me in need of a summer holiday

And breathe…

Hey! So it has been a minute. The last couple of weeks have been a little bit mad. Going from working back to back shifts (I can’t complain, I treat myself too much for that) to heading to Paris for four days and then back into a week of night shifts, I have barely had time to sit down with a cup of tea. Netflix has seriously been neglected. But admittedly so has my blog.

I wanted to get this post out last week but between drinking my body weight in coffee and taking in enough culture to last a lifetime I didn’t quite get there. However, I have found this time really useful in its own way. Before I went away I was suffering some real writers block. I didn’t know where I wanted to go with this blog or what I had to say at all, period.

Being away from twitter, my laptop and news apps informing me that the end of the world is nigh left me to actually sit with my own thoughts and it turned out I did have some. I wrote more notes on my phone (34 to be exact) and felt more inspired in those four days than I have felt in months.

I was out there over Valentine’s Day- I know clichéd. For someone who doesn’t usually mark the day of sickening love with anything other than a jaeger bomb and subsequent hangover, this was a little different for me. I can’t say I am a convert and I’m not ready to give up Galentines Day but it was kind of nice wandering around Versailles with someone else not feeling like I am about to have a red bull induced heart attack. But what also became abundantly clear to me this V Day was that I hadn’t really had any me time on the run up to the holiday and it was showing.

So in the spirit of all things self-love here are the 5 things that get me back to me:

• Halsey/ Dua Lipa/ Hayley Kiyoko/ Lorde •

I list all four because who would want to pick? I remember driving home from uni in a friend’s car just before we finished our Masters belting out New Rules, there is nothing that puts me in a better mood. What unites all of these gals is I put them on and instantly feel stronger. I can be in the worst mood and it will be instantly changed by the opener of Now or Never. As my old flatmate so often says we function best when we are scorned and no one does scorned quite like these women.

 

• Perks of being a Wallflower (book and film) •

If you haven’t read Perks of being a Wallflower where were you at 14? Stephen Chbosky writes coming of age better than I felt it. I re-read this every year and whilst it always takes me back to being a horrible, ‘misunderstood’ teenager I also always get something new from it. You will fall in love with the characters so just be prepared for it to break you too. And I can’t help but hope that Greta Gerwigs’ ‘Ladybird’ is going to be like this but better.

• Olivia Bee •

I stumbled across Olivia Bee about 2 years ago when I was supposed to be finishing my undergraduate dissertation (funnily enough I found a lot of new hobbies in that time). Documenting her adolescence Bee’s images are hazy and sexy and really intimate. There is no denying she is also really bloody good at what she does.  By the time she was 15, Bee had shot a Converse campaign, and by 17, her work landed on the cover of The New York Times Magazine. She has gone on to shoot for Elle, Gucci, Unpublished Playboy and so many more.

http://oliviabee.com/

• Rupi Kaur •

Rupi Kaur cleanses my soul, pure and simple. There is no other way for me to explain how I feel about her. She writes about sex, race, love, rejection and rebirth in such a way that she expresses the experience of millions of women in so few lines. Whilst some have criticised her and her work, Kaur is the kind of poet who prompts heated debate, from people you never knew had any sort of interest in poetry, because among other things she is young, female, from a Punjabi-Sikh immigrant family, relatively uncredentialed and insanely successful.

https://www.instagram.com/rupikaur_/

• Joan Didion •

What did you want to be when you were growing up? I wanted to be a cat. Once I realised that was an unattainable goal I decided I should probably focus at school and do what everyone else does, go to university. But then what? I discovered Joan Didion at the right time. A confused student, coming to the end of my undergraduate with a love for writing and photography but no comprehension that some people get paid to do those things I stumbled across Didions first essay for American Vogue ‘self-respect’. Her voice wasn’t really like anything I had heard of the time (1961). I consumed her work like so many other people that love her- quickly! Researching her personal life, her experience covering 1960’s California and watching David Hares adaptation of ‘A Year of Magical Thinking’ didn’t just make me want to write, it made me want to report and investigate and experience.

So there we have it, the 5 things that make me feel more me. I can’t help but notice that so many of these have a running ‘coming of age’ theme further confirming that I haven’t quite grown out of being 15 yet. But in the mean time I am willing to indulge this and you should too.

The closest to New Year New Me as I think it’s going to get…

I don’t want to start this post by sounding like the elderly woman that I truly am but where did Christmas go? It always seems to come round so quickly but this year it’s come and gone so fleetingly that I’m not entirely sure whether I should still be in the pub day drinking or preparing for the New Year. Because obviously new year new me…

In all seriousness I hope you had the best Christmas celebrating with your nearest and dearest and are now cuddled up on the sofa in your PJ’s nursing the food baby that won’t budge until January 5^th. That is doing Christmas properly, after all.

I have written in the past about my niggles with New Year’s resolutions. If you want to do something go out and do it now. You don’t have to wait for the coldest, darkest month of the year, when you are surrounded by the most delicious food on God’s green earth to decide that you are going to drop four dress sizes and become a vegan. I promise you, nothing is more unappealing than leaving your cosy home to go to an overcrowded gym at 8pm on a Thursday night when it is practically Baltic weather conditions outside. January is the Monday morning of the months and I salute anyone who can do dry January when you spend the 1^st nursing the biggest hangover of the year.

This year feels a little bit different though. Whereas September used to be my motivational month- the month I would look forward to a fresh start, I am no longer in education so if anything September marks the end of summer and no one wants that. So this year, sat on the sofa nursing my poor body after a month of living off Christmas tree chocolates, sharer bags of Walkers Sensations and gin and tonics I have decided to make some New Year’s resolutions.

Look it really is New Year New Me…

• So, the first is completely practical- I need to learn how to drive. As someone who finds it very difficult to sit still, hates public transport and is over the age of 17 I should probably know how to drive already yet here I am still being ferried around by my increasingly irritated parents. So this year I am going to bite the bullet, book some lessons and with a bit of luck, pass my test. What is the worst that can happen?

 

• I want to read 50 books. This is fairly self-explanatory. I have a book shelf full of books that I have partially read and for Christmas I received 10 books- 4 of which were on Brexit (what a barrel of laughs I must be). I hate that I am forever buying books or adding to the ever increasing list of must reads on my phone but I never get round to actually sitting down and reading. If I have enough time in the week to get through three series of Made in Chelsea I should probably do something that adds to my intellect rather than taking away from it.

 

• Get published by somewhere that I love. Vague? I know but I don’t want to write down specific publications because then it becomes real and heaven forbid anyone hold me accountable… Since finishing my degree I have spent so much time writing cover letters and applications and dropped off with pitching and producing articles- actual journalism, you know, the thing I want to do. Pitching is one of those things that, in reality isn’t that hard until you stop doing it. Then you have the existential crisis that you have no good ideas, all editors are soul destroying (they’re not) and you have no idea what is going on in the world. So this year I am going to pitch and pitch and pitch until somewhere I love takes something of mine- or I’ll die trying.

 

• I don’t need to tell anyone that the last year in politics has been a little bit of a shit show. I have given up on saying Trump can’t get any worse because he always comes through and manages to surprise me. The British political establishment isn’t much better. However, through all of the disappointment something good has come from this year. I have had more conversations with friends about the issues that really matter to them than ever before. Me Too opened a space to start seriously talking about sexism, harassment and assault in an environment where, on the whole you wouldn’t be silenced. Years of austerity in this country has left hundreds of thousands of people homeless and there is so much more we can do. And Brexit is, well it’s Brexit. This next year instead of just talking to people about the things that I care about or taking to social media like some sort of tyrant keyboard warrior I want to get involved with activism. Go to a meeting, march, be fully involved. The news makes the world seem like a pretty bleak place but we are living in a really exciting time too.

 

• I would love to visit two new countries or cities this coming year. I got the opportunity to go to Prague last year and whilst I made friends for life and worked under some amazing journalists, it wasn’t exactly a holiday. I have the itch again, even if it is a couple of long weekends. I want to go and wander around a new place, people watch from a coffee shop and eat ridiculous amounts of food- all the appropriate holiday activities.

 

• And last but certainly not least I will see my friends more. I have loved moving home and getting to spend time with people I haven’t seen properly for the last four years. They have got me through the first few months of adult life. Saying that I so miss my friends from university. Spread out across the country, it feels completely unnatural that I wouldn’t see or speak to them every day. So this year I am going to make a proper effort to see them all as much as I possibly can.

So there it is. What an infinitely better human I will be by the end of next year… And obviously I will hit the gym harder, find a way to impeach Donald Trump, reverse Brexit and stop eating so much garlic bread. Even if I get to March and decide that my brain cannot retain anymore books and I have had too many near misses that I will be Ubers sole customer in my town I checked up on last year’s list and my first resolution was learn to snowboard. So if anything 2017 has made me a realist and once I have slept off the inevitable New Years Eve hangover (I can already tell it will be a two dayer) maybe something could get done in 2018.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

One of the reasons I love this time of year the most is because I will binge watch the entirety of Harry Potter from start to finish, at least three times. I know they’re not strictly Christmas appropriate but nothing gets me in a festive mood quite like Christmas day in the Philosophers Stone or the Yule Ball in the Goblet of Fire.

Like so many people my age Harry, Ron and Hermione shaped my childhood (my entire life). Coming of age at the perfect time, I don’t remember a time before Harry Potter. I became completely obsessed with the boy who lived, arguing with my school friends daily about whether we would be Ravenclaws or Gryffendors and fantasizing about my die hard crush, Dean Thomas. As a Ravenclaw our love would have transcended houses…

Come on now, you see it!

As a child who really struggled to sit still unless my tea was in front of me, reading was a bit of a mission. My parents had always read to me before bed but as I grew up and that stopped so did reading. Harry Potter showed me that reading could be incredibly enjoyable. It led me to try books by other authors, which has paid off many times since. It changed my life because it allowed me to love reading again.

The books also taught me some integral lessons growing up and in the spirit of Christmas I have picked my favourite from each book…

Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone

“It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.”

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

“It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

“Don’t let the Muggles get you down.”

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

“Numbing the pain for a while will only make it worse when you finally feel it.”

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scars than almost anything else.”

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

“‘The thing about growing up with Fred and George,’ said Ginny thoughtfully, ‘Is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.’”

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.”

The Hollaback Girls

It is Friday at 6pm on a train. There are enough people packed into the carriage to make anyone forget that the weekend is here and you spend most of the 20 minute journey trying not to stand too close to the armpit of the man next to you. This is only made harder when said man refuses to hold onto any of the railings tightly enough and therefore falls into you, pit first, every time the train so much as jitters. As the carriage empties he moves away from me and I can finally go back to breathing through my nose.

“Hi”, he said. I wasn’t really sure if he was addressing me initially and as Riscas were getting me in the mood for Friday night I wasn’t about to turn them off for anyone so I smiled a tight lipped smile and looked back down at my book.

“Excuse me…hi.” I took an ear bud out thinking he was going to tell me I had something on my face. “How are you?” Evidently, he didn’t realise that we are in Britain and any social interaction on public transport should be restricted to apologising when you hit someone with your bag. “Yea I’m good thank you.” Silence…

“I recognise you, do we know each other?” He asked moving to my side of the carriage. “No, not unless you have seen me on the train before,” I said taking a step back and willing the conversation to end. Nonchalantly leaning against the door he said “Well I would like to really get to know all of ‘that’,” looking me up and down, “come for a drink at my flat tonight?” In an ideal world the doors of the train would have opened and he would be gone. But instead I told him to go to hell and walked off down the carriage. Then, in front of at least 20 other passengers he shouted “you shouldn’t play hard to get babe, you’re not pretty enough for that shit.” No one said anything.

This is tame and by no means exceptional to the experiences of so many people every day. The Huffington Post revealed that around 1 in 3 women experience sexual harassment on the street. It was the year of naming and shaming and #MeToo but is anything really changing?

As I got home and set about spilling my anger over the page of a note book, cup of tea in hand, I started to let go of how upset I felt but couldn’t help but wonder how many women had experienced something very similar the same day. How many would that be?

Sophie Sandberg is a student in New York. Over the last couple of years women have sent her unwanted comments they have received and she has gone to the place where it happened and written them out in big chalk letters on the pavement. She hopes people will recognise their own words in her work and will make them think twice about catcalling.

Instagram: @catcallsofnyc

I first found Sophie’s Instagram, @catcallsofNewYork after reading Everyday Sexism by Laura Bates. Fixated on how people express their own personal trauma, opening up and speaking out in the hope that it empowers someone somewhere. When it happens it so often sounds like a compliment- “Hey girl, hey gorgeous” but it makes you feel so uncomfortable and dirty in your own body as if, by token of being a woman in a public space you are being watched and open for comment on.

Instagram: @catcallsofnyc

The perfect thing about #MeToo, Everyday Sexism and Catcalls of New York is that it lets people know they’re not alone and that they aren’t doing anything to provoke unwanted attention or advances. Women are expressing their pain and experiences so that a conversation that has always been going on behind closed doors is now in the mainstream and it isn’t going anywhere.  It is no secret anymore that it is nice, normal boys that are harassing, assaulting and abusing women. It isn’t always the creep that jumps out of a bush.  They are the boys you went to university with, that you work with, that come from good homes and your mum asks you how they are from time to time.

TIME announced their person of the year for 2017 were The Silence Breakers pushing for change. The more we speak out, the more people will listen and I know after some of the most unpleasant encounters that I have experienced this has got me through.

All I want for Christmas is…no news, Tom Hardy and a puppy

Is that too much to ask?

It is two in the morning. I am watching the minutes tick by on my phone and every so often I work out how many hours sleep I will get if I fall asleep right at this minute. Six hours, five hours, four hours. Scrolling through my twitter feed endlessly I am getting more and more panicked.

The Supreme Court has just passed Trumps travel ban which has resulted in another sleepless night for me because whilst ghosts or monsters scare some, Trump, the Westminster elite and the patriarchy keep me up at night. It has been a lottery over the last few weeks as to which would keep me awake but I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in about a month. My weary face and eye bags could probably give someone a sleepless night at this point.

Experts have said that “survival- threatening subject matter, such as crime, war and famine, automatically grabs out attention and generate an emotional reaction. As a result, news is not just news, but information increasingly harnessed for spectacle and entertainment.” Sensationalism is not a new thing, the Sun has earnt its daily bread off it for decades.

Because 2016 was the year that all of our favourite celebrities died and 2017 revealed the rest of them to be rapists, harassers and pests.

This morning I woke up and watched the news with my morning coffee, hair wild and half asleep. Then as I got ready for the day and made myself look more human I listened to the Times Red Box podcast debriefing the budget. I spent the rest of the day staring at a computer screen, flitting from the Guardian, to the BBC, to the Times reading and despairing. I got home and I decided I needed to de-stress, I went to the gym and whilst working out listened to this week’s Guardian UK Politics podcast- Trumps tweets and the Irish border. It turns out you can’t even go to the gym without Trump following you. And all the while my phone was buzzing with breaking news updates. It is relentless.

Now, granted the news is very much tied into my life. I am interested in politics and the more you read the better writer you are so if anything it is research. Yet I wonder why I am going to bed anxious when I have been glued to a screen all day reading about our government which is attacking the poor, destroying peace agreements and falling apart all at the same time. It is like an addiction, I know it is bad for me but I can’t stop. I wouldn’t have three Big Macs everyday so why am I filling my head with negative opinions and often, gossip. We know that eating crap is bad for our physical health so why don’t we equate reading crap as being bad for our mental health?

So this Christmas, in the midst of the Good Friday agreement collapsing and Trump starting World War Three (or so I have been told) I have decided I am going to go on a news detox. I am not going to inhabit a cave for the next three weeks although if I get my other Christmas wishes and Tom Hardy wants to join me I am sure we can work something out. Caves can be cosy with the right company and puppies.

Failing that, I am going to listen to feel good podcasts at the gym, be proactive in my reading because there are positive stories out there and get my head out of the news bubble.

In my one day mission to not let the DUP, US and Brexit ruin my Christmas I have found…

When Life Gives You Melons- An incredible podcast hosted by the hilarious Maya Jama discussing everything from bad dates, the best career advice you can get and wriggling out of relationships. This is the perfect podcast for a long commute or cardio session so long as you’re not embarrassed at laughing to yourself in public.

Late Night Women’s Hour- Another funny and frank podcast headed up by Lauren Laverne this will give you your fix of clever ideas and thoughts on topics such as hair, ageing and balance. You will feel like you have really learnt something without hearing someone bleat Trump at you.

Why I am no longer talking to white people about Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge- So after cutting my screen time I actually managed to get through a whole book without it taking me a year. Tired of playing nice Eddo-Lodge is done with white compatriots talking about racism as if it is an intellectual exercise that so misses the point of her lived experience. Discussions about racism are so often lead by those who are not affected by it and if anything this book has taught me to sit down, shut up and listen.

University dating: An 18th Century Nightmare

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of many bumble dates.

Not Austen’s original words but she was a gal before her time and I am sure the Bennet girls (Lydia in particular) would have spent many an evening in front of a roaring fire with a bottle of wine thinking of all the inventive ways to capture the open shirted, Mr Darcy had they been born 200 years later.

It is December 1^st which means I am now allowed to be excited about Christmas! The festive coffees and big fluffy jumpers and coats, the lights and the carol services, I am ready for it all. I am also ready to reread one of my favourite novels and fall in love once again with the witty, bright Elizabeth Bennet; a total proto-feminist badass, and Mr. Darcy who answers every “Convert a jerk into the perfect boyfriend with true love” fantasy we’ve ever had.

It is one of my favourite past times- usually when work is slow or I have had too much caffeine so I am sat up in bed at 3 am writing absolute nonsense- to equate the men in Pride and Prejudice to the man boys you meet at university.

You meet Mr Bingley at a predrinks during fresher’s week when he turns up at your flat with alcohol that isn’t Tesco’s own brand and a Louis Theroux tee. As the night wares on he explains to you that he has already decided he is going to write his dissertation on the Paris Commune and the merits of Henri de Saint-Simon (in short you fall in love with him instantly). You share a sociology seminar and he always ensures that he gets in that his parents grew up on a council estate somewhere in the north, as if he is some sort of rags to riches prince but he means well. This is Bingley’s problem, he is a really nice spineless guy. Like a Labrador, everything is new and exciting to him and whilst he is super ‘woke’ he doesn’t understand why you can’t swing a three week skiing trip in Portes du Soleil at the drop of a hat. Because whilst he may not wear his wealth like the Mr Darcy’s of the world, he is still extremely rich and he might be painfully lovely but his two sisters are not. You eventually decide that his snobby family are a deal breaker and his faultless optimism becomes a bit much. You don’t need anyone telling you that the capitalist state will fall as they sit there sipping a Starbucks coffee.

We all know a Mr Collins and whilst most of us didn’t date him (thank god) university campuses are crawling with them. He lives in your flat block and turns up at your door one day asking if he can borrow some milk. In reality his mum stocked his fridge up before she left, this is just his in. Over the coming months, you and your flat aren’t quite sure how, but he has wormed his way in. He is always there! Someone breaks up with their boyfriend- enter Mr Collins. Someone is homesick- there’s a knock at the door. You never see him leave the flat block so there are questions as to how he is passing his degree and if he is even a student at all. In short, he is an idiotic pest that you will try to shake for the four years you are at university and he will still slide into your DM’s occasionally after you gradate. Word of warning: do not encourage Mr Collins in any way, shape or form! He doesn’t need it!

You find Mr Wickham at the bar on your uni sports night. When I say find, he walks over to you, topless and drops the cheesiest one liner you’ve ever heard. You hate yourself but it works. You don’t know if it is the 90’s pop or that toga that he wears so well but you think he might be the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to you. He is above any night out that doesn’t involve taking copious amounts of coke and you don’t really have conversations, he just tells you how his sport team is doing and then you make out…sexy. He is completely gorgeous and knows it and his family are so rich that he can afford this coke habit well into his thirties before he realises he should probably settle down and get a job. A master of negging, he is aloof, he doesn’t message you back and he won’t introduce you to his friends which in a backwards way makes you want him more. Yet when you’re with him he makes you feel so good you keep coming back. No one settles down with Wickham, you might think you have but chances are so do about seven other girls. It won’t end well and in the throes of you finally waking up and realising you don’t need this dick pirate anymore he reveals himself to be the misogynist you always suspected. Run girl!

You meet Mr Darcy post Wickham. You are done, you’ve been burnt before and you’re not ready to entertain any more floppy haired, little boy crap. You have resigned yourself to the fact that you are going to live with your super successful friends and cats. Then you spot Darcy in your university coffee shop. He is everything Wickham was- hot, brooding, rich. Yet you are not the little spring chicken that Wickham met in the student union. You have barriers that have gone up and whilst you have already planned out yours and Darcy’s wedding before you’ve even said hello, you are not about to make the same mistake again. Only you do… just slower. Instead of falling at Darcy’s feet the first time he takes you out for drinks and doesn’t have a battle with you when you insist on paying half you play it cooler. The he saves your paralytic flatmate from a predator in a club (or your sister from a pompous, lying weasel whatever floats your boat) you realise he might not be so awful after all. You also don’t want to give him up because his name is so fancy, it makes you fancy by association (Fitzwilliam Darcy, come on) like you’re grown or something.

So there it is. A long thought out, Pride and Prejudice 3 am mind vomit. But I don’t think bumble, one night stands and Netflix have made dating any more complicated. If anything at least we can spot the Wickham/ Collins and the Darcy/ Bingley’s from a mile off now. Is there anything Austen didn’t know?

The 5 books to get down with this ‘cuffing’ season

I firmly believe that spending a Sunday afternoon on the sofa with a constant supply of tea and a good book is one of the last forms of pure joy on this earth. It is my happy place. If I have had a long day it won’t fail to lighten my mood. If I’m unwell, it will distract me. It is a fail safe way to make a day 100 times better.

We have finally rolled into November. I say rolled quite literally, October was spent eating birthday cake and Halloween sweets. The clocks have gone back meaning longer, darker evenings. This marks the beginning of cuffing season- the time of the year that perpetual singles and tinder kings and queens everywhere settle their ways for the winter months because drinking mulled wine alone just isn’t the same.

If, however, you are anything like me (don’t see any issue eating cheese and wine alone and a little bit too lazy for cuffing season itself) then I might have a solution so you can hang your heels up for the winter months. Here are the top five reads that are going to get me through to December 25^th.

1. The old favourite: Pride and Prejudice- Jane Austen

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife” might be the greatest opening to a novel in the history of literature…I’m not bias. It doesn’t matter how many times I pick up Pride and Prejudice, Austin always leaves me with something new. I don’t know if it’s the fact that she wrote female leads so empowered and before their time or that Mr Darcy comes to life in those pages that keeps me coming back.

If you haven’t read it I am giving you permission, close your laptop, put your phone down and go and find a copy. You won’t regret it. Elizabeths sarcastic quips and her torn feelings towards the sexiest man ever written will get you through the dark winter evenings.

2. The ‘Best Friend in the form of a novel: Hot Mess- Lucy Vine

Moving home was quite difficult for me initially. After spending four years living with and seeing some of my best gal pals every single day to only having group chats to sustain my vulgar sense of humour and ridiculous need for gossip Hot Mess came right when I needed it. Ellie Knight will become your hero. This book did what so many which have gone before it couldn’t, it made me feel better.

Whether it is tinder dates with grotesque men, tackling the fact that some of your friends are actually settling down or life just generally not going to plan, Lucy Vine leaves no stone unturned and creates a character so relatable you will inhale this novel. Since my parents don’t seem to appreciate my jokes about sex/ poo/ the general human anatomy at least I can still message my friends and then read about Ellie.

3. The Thriller: The Dry- Jane Harper

I am not usually one for thrillers or books that could in any way scare me. Obvious endings annoy me and an elaborate plot at the expense of good writing just isn’t for me. I can happily say The Dry is none of these things. Initially recommended by my Dad, it unravels a mysterious triple homicide and a small town’s dark history.

I couldn’t put this book down for weeks. It is gripping and just complex enough to keep you hooked right until the end.

4. The Thought Provoker: Of Women- Shami Chakrabarti OR Freakonomics- Steven D Levitt and Stephen J Dubner

Depending on what you’re after, both of these books are exceptional. I have already written extensively about Shami Chakrabarti and her new book but it has proved to be as good as eagerly anticipated. Unpacking issues faced by women across the globe she makes, what can sometimes be presented as very complex theory, easy to understand and digest. You can dip in and out of it or sit for hours and, if you’re anything like me get increasingly inspired to get off your ass and go and fight the patriarchy. In a time when attacks on women are getting so much media attention this is THE book to read.

I first picked up Freakonomics on a long haul flight after it was recommended my politics tutor. There was definitely some hype around it but, without sounding too cliché it literally blew my mind. Levitt and Dubner have the rare capability of making maths and economics understandable and engaging. I practically devoured the book in a matter of hours and ordered the next two (which are equally as good). They question everything and their theories are applicable to most things in life- from drug dealers, poverty, weird baby names and perfect parenting.

5. The Christmas Novel: Little Women- Louisa May Alcott

The closer I get to December 1^st the more I pine for candles, Christmas lights, festive films and Mariah Carey. Whilst I start the Christmas count down on October 13^th (age is just a number) I am aware some people aren’t so jovial.

I love reading Little Women at this time of year to start getting me into the Christmas spirit. Granted this is not the happiest book in the world and it breaks me every time I get to the end but following the adventures of Meg, Beth, Amy and Jo really puts me in the mood for mince pies and snuggly blankets.

‘They’re’ wrong, you should meet your heroes!

I have wanted to be a lot of things in my life. I remember going over to a friend’s house, aged six with one of the massive tubs of haribos they used to sell at Asda which have since been discontinued due to the rise in child obesity (children ruin everything). We would sit for hours and hours and take it in turns being the teacher, asking questions and rewarding each other with fat handfuls of cola bottles and fizzy cherries.

Then as I got a little older I decided teaching wasn’t cool, so obviously not for me. Covering myself with tattoos and piercings and dying my hair blue with semi-permanent spray in hair dye, which literally breaks your hair, seemed like the way to go. I would become a designer and live in some sort of communal arrangement with lots of other creatives. This would have been a really nice idea, if only I was able to draw.

I think it is easy to feel like everyone knows what they want to do age 14- when your friends who will one day go on to be doctors and lawyers work out they need to start getting work experience now if they ever want to get into university. I was no different.

My parents have always had an impressive book collection in the back room of our house. Hundreds of books piled on top of each other- from Harry Potter to Hungary. I remember one day back in 2014, in a bid to procrastinate from exam papers I picked up ‘On Liberty’ by Shami Chakrabarti.

Never had I read my own views back to myself so succinctly. It was like she had climbed up into my head and was ordering my thoughts in a way that made sense. At the time I was half way through my Sociology BA with a passion for gender, race and queer inequality theories. I didn’t think there was a job that would allow me to talk and research these topics to my little hearts content.

I fell in love with the ideas in On Liberty and I still am to this day. So, when my dad asked if I fancied a Sunday afternoon at the Royal Exchange to hear Shami Chakrabarti talk about her new book it was a no brainer.

Speaking about everything from feminist economics, the BBC pay gap, Trump and Weinstein, austerity and the housing crisis, Chakrabarti and the speaker Rachel Holmes deconstructed her new book ‘Of Women’.

She made me laugh, at times I despaired a little bit (simply at the state of the world we live in- it happens about once a day) and I was completely heartened listening to her anecdotes and views.

I am lucky in that I generally surround myself with strong, outspoken, fierce women who I love very much but there is something to be said for watching a women who I so admire, share how she keeps on going; getting trolled on twitter to helping her little boy deal with sexist comments at school. I am at a point where I’m not really sure what I am doing and how to move forward at a time that feels completely messed up. It is good to be reminded that it is worth pushing forward because we have so much to fight for.

‘Of Women’ is out now and I know I will be devouring it ASAP! They say that you shouldn’t meet your heroes, but they’re wrong.