gigantic, a big big ho

The conspiracy theorist in me may be about to come out to play.

In Britain, as in the majority of countries, education is free. This right to a free education is something we passionately protect and advance. For example, many of the debt-release schemes in Africa had in their conditions a commitment to the provision of free education in the future and the introduction of university top-up fees was not without its protests. The provision of free education by the state is rightly championed.

The idea that people should pay for education seems incredulous and counter to our societies values. The long history and existance of private schools often comes under attack. Parents are sometimes criticised for sending their child to a private school, but if that child needed an operation, they would not criticised in the same way if they chose a private hospital to treat her.

The NHS is unique, in other countries citizens are expected to pay, or least get their insurance company to pay, for their own medical expenses. Nearly all of the population live in privately owned housing. Although child care tax credits are avaliable, child care is also privately provided. The railways have been denationalised, and the bus companies are companies too. The energy companies, phone companies, and now the postal services operate in the free market. In several countries, including Britain, Bolivia and Australia, even the water supply has been privatised. The world bank is actively advising Ghana to follow suit. There has even been a call to legalise organ sales, and let a free market economy solve the problem of donor shortage.

Why is free state-provided education championed so universally, when the idea of state-provided (even if it isn't free) housing, healthcare, and water is dismissed?

Is it because education is "every child's right" and is such a basic need that the state needs to intervene? Is access to water not as important? Is decent housing? Or healthcare?

Does the state provide education because the parents can't be trusted to provide it "properly"? Does it set a national cirriculum because trained teachers don't know what children need to learn? Or does the state provide our free, controlled education so we can be trained the ways of the state and learn how to be good citizens, in their opinion? Do they provide free education so children get used to the fact that they learn at school, and not at home, so if the state wanted to place ideas about the world in their minds, those ideas could be instilled and nutured before they have learnt to think? Something that the controlled school system could all to easily neglect to teach.

you must have known that i was fond of you

I am back at home for a brief soujourn before I flit off to Russia.

I miss my little yellow room. It is completely empty and devoid of life. I am sad to leave it behind. I'm finding it strange having to ajust to having doors on my wardrobe and actually having drawers. I keep checking my pocket when I go to the loo to see if I have got my key, even though I don't need to anymore. I have more space but less privacy.

Sleeping in the dark is proving difficult. I have just set up my radio alarm clock, which now provides a comforting warm glow, reminding me of city centre living.

I miss noise. Life is so quiet here.

I have lost independence. I can no longer easily get to anywhere I would ever want to go by myself. The bus now costs £4.70 rather than £1. I can't get to the trian station in 14 minutes.

The sitting had been completely commandeered by Katherine while my parents continued their exile to the "breakfast room".

It is impossible here for 4 people to share the kitchen, whereas 16 coped perfectly well in our cupboard-kitchen in London. No one sits around together just chatting. At uni we cook seperate dishes but eat together, at home there is one dish and seperate rooms.

There's no newspaper in the kitchen anymore. There are no tea breaks. No one does the crossword. Grocery shopping is no longer a social activity. If someone wants to go out, no one will go with you anymore.

the village store opens whenever it likes

I was reading the news today.

What stirkes me about this, is do the girls really need to check so regularly? Once a month, do they think "Oh, I wonder if I'm still a virgin. I'll go and check." I know that isn't the mentality really. Is it another expression of the age-old "I'll get together with people like me" combined with an obsession with virginity/non-virginity as shown in the delightful Channel Four documentary Virgin School, and in the "technical virgins" of the Bible Belt? Or by giving over their bodies to their elders, are these women self-empowering?

Then I read this.
There are many points I want to make, and I can't form an argument or structure right now.

• Charities operating in the UK only have to have 8% of their income going towards the actual "charitable work". This isn't necessarily directly relevent, but I thought I'd throw it in.
• A charity is a company that makes no money on purpose. So any school that set up with the idea "So we'll take the money and spend them on teachers and books and stuff, and if we have any left over we'll get some more stuff for the school, for the kids. We won't make a profit, we'll give it all to the kids" surely is a charity.
• What benefit do I, a resident of Pocklington get from any of the schools in Pocklington? Should I just be greatful that they provide somewhere for the pesky teenagers to go during the day? Should the state schools lose their charitable status, after all, what do the residents get from them? After I had moved to a private school, how were they contributing to my education?
• "Mr Johnson said private schools tended to get more specialist teachers and spend more money on facilities such as science labs." Well, there's no one saying "Oh no we can't refurbish your lab, or sell you equipment, you're a state school, and you're not allowed"
• Is he suggesting that that private schools should let the local state school use their labs for free, or should they charge?
• Basically his viewpoint appears to be "The nasty private schools are doing better than us. It's not because we're mismanaging, it's because they refuse to share. So we're not going to try to improve state schools by our own efforts, but instead we'll stamp our feet and demand they give us stuff"
• There are definitely grounds for removing charity status from some private schools, but they aren't about lending the state their facilities.

wearing tennis shorts made of stripes

I've been home, and now I'm back. Somehow blogging while at home just doesn't work so well.

I was supposed to completely gut my room and throw away the many, many items of junk that I mustn't really need because I've coped a whole year without out them. This didn't really happen. I have, to be fair, gone through all of my bank statements since 2004 and destroyed them all. I also managed to find all the bits of "useful paper" that I have stored safely in my room, and put them all together. I have also begun to collect a whole box and more of stuff that I don't want but could possibly be sellable. I didn't even think to open the box by my window to explore it's contents.

I started, but there is a long way to go. So now when I arrive home next week with the entire contents of my room here I will probably be unable to move. Never mind.

I was going to write about road works and their place in causing annoyance in my life, but I have now realised that in fact it is the absence of road works that has caused me irritation over the past week. The prime example being when the traffic on the A1079, which is already at almost double the normal volume due to the then lack of the A166, was stop-start for a full 5 miles going west and 3 miles going east. Why? Because some road-work-men had set up a set of traffic lights and some cones in the road! There were no actual "works" going on whatsoever! But, I hear you say, they were surely just preparing for the imminent digging up of the road. No. I drove back along that road just 4 or 5 hours later and the men, the lights, and the cones had gone. They had done nothing. Equally irritating were the traffic lights by Merton/Murton yesterday. They had FINISHED resurfacing the road. The only reason we couldn't have 2 lanes of traffic at once was because the traffic lights were in the way. Fantastic.

Or not.

it takes a second to say goodbye

Ben is in the bath.
I'm on the sofa.

When my alarm went off today I was genuinely puzzled as to why it was interrupting my sleep.
When I drove home from the station today I really had trouble with my spacial awareness. "Where exactly is the outside of the car?"
When I watched Sunday morning TV I thought to myself that Edwina Currie wears even more make-up than the PussyCat Dolls do.
When I read Post Secret I prayed for the girl (I imagined it to be a girl) who misses God.
When my mum and I had prawn salad for lunch I made the dressing.
When I tidied my room I found the letters I received while I was in Tanzania.
When I cooked peas I used the new colander.
When I went to church I got held up by an old-school traditional gypsy horse and caravan.
When I listened to the sermon I held his hand.

we'll no longer memorize or rhyme

My perspective is changing.

I'm realising that I'm the same girl.
I'm realising that I could have done it all along.
I'm realising that they think I'm worth it; that's where it all comes from.
I'm realising that they are probably right.


I have failings.
I am not a failure.

But although I have realised, I may still act like I have no idea.

i love you dearly but you're never alone

Firstly : Three observations I made on my journey to Charing Cross this morning.

1. I saw a pigeon eating sick. Those birds are digusting.
2. The tube announcer lady says "Tottenham" of "Tottenham Court Road" in a mildly amusing way.
3. I got the tube at 8am. The only other people in the station were the tube men, and there were only 2 people in my carriage when I got on. This was the emptiest I have ever seen it. It was good.

Secondly : Some blog related thoughts.

After the excitement of having La Bella Principessa comment on two of my posts, I got myself a clustr map, which is now prudly sitting in the right hand column. On the first upload I found that apart from myself, my boyfriend, and maybe Graham, I had at least four other people reading my blog that day, one in France, one in Toronto (La Bella Principessa), one in California and one in Western Australia. I had 20 visits that day.

However, I was unsure how many were me, so I made an effort not to look at my blog for a day. That day I had 12 visitors.

I have just checked now, and yesterday I got 2.

Were they both Ben?
Probably.

we're gonna steal your skies

8/5/05 1800 Decide to write a blog about my actions over the next 24 hours.

1801 Made some squash with 2 ice cubes. Got a text from Lucy Brown

1805 Washed up the pan and plate from the asparagus and eggs on toast I had for 'lunch' at 1500, for once remembering to wash the coffee cup too.

1810 Tidied the junk from off my bed.

1813 Thought about how cold I have been today, checked the weather forcast, mused that it must have been colder than 18 degrees.

1826 Looked at a map of Kazan' to find where I'll be living in June. Unlike nearly everyone else in my class, I am unworried about the prospect. It's just a month, it's a big city, it's a G8 country, I speak the language. It's not 6 months, in some village, up a muddy hill, in the 178th richest (or 24th poorest) country, the language of which I knew 2 words. One of which turned out to be incorrect.

1852 Read some of A History of Poland - Anita Prazmowska.

1910 Left my room to go to Lucy's via Tesco and a Tube Station.

1915 Attempted to register my already registered oyster card at Warren Street. Had my intelligence insulted and my ego bruised by the tube lady.

1919 Went to Tesco, saw that juice is 98p. But as I am adamant it costs 79p in the other one, reesolved to go to J Sainsbury's instead. Set off walking to Lucy's

1935 Arrived in Mornington Crescent, went to Sainsbury's. Purchased Sainsbury's pineapple juice, which turns out to be better, but more expensive that Tesco's.

1945 Arrived at Lucy's. Cooked rice, with a sauce made of what was left in her cupboards and fridge. That is 2 onions, garlic, tomato pasta sauce, pesto, dried parsley, salt and pepper. Ate this. Chatted. Had yoghurt and malteasers for desert. Chatted. Washed up.

2220 Left, walked to the bus stop, got on the 29.

2244 Arrived home. Brushed teeth, face-wiped, put pyjamas on. Was very, very tired.

2252 Called Ben, arranged to call again in 10 mins so we could talk while in bed together 200 miles apart. Phaffed nonspecifically

2302 Turned off laptop, got into bed, wrapped self in double duvet, called Ben, got told he needed a few more minutes.

2305 Called back, somehow talked for an hour, despite my sleepy sleepy state.

0010 Said bye, hung up, went to sleep.

0800 Yesterday's exam alarm woke me, I turned it off.

1020 Woke up of my own accord, but the bed was so soft and revision so unappealing that I rolled over, and slept again. Had a complicated morning time dream in which, among other things Tadhg shot my dad, but that was at the beginning and not the main source of action. That was provided as I attempted to get a rich family to take me to a train station so I could get 3 trains to a police station, they would have to buy my ticket, but I would send them a check in the post. We were all wearing tweed. The twist came just before I woke up when it turned out that Tadhg, dressed as he was at the Back to the Future party was their son, and it was him I wanted to get arrested.

1250 Woke up again. Was shocked at the time. Got up, dressed etc. Tidied up a bit, made some squash, drank it, checked my email, had one from TfL saying they were giving me a refund. Wrote on some people's facebook walls.

1430 Got round to revision. Resived

1506 Made coffee, began to drink it, with the help of six Cadbury's chocolate oat biscuits on the trot.

1512 Ben called :)

1520 Carried on revising.

1621 Looked out the window. It was raining.

1645 Wrote an email to Lucy, it took half an hour but was 1732 words. That's an essay, oh how good life would be if I could write an essay in half an hour.

1722 Sent the email, revised again.

1752 Went to the kitchen to make a tea of asparagus and peas. Noticed that something was "going down" at Saatchi and Saatchi, three matching vans with suited minders wearing earpieces were waiting in a row outside. See the picture below.

1800 Passed me by.

read all the pamphlets

Why is it that scientologist evangelists and Labour politicians dress the same?

why did we have to meet on the night i lost my head?

In church yesterday I was clearly not paying the correct amount of attention, and found myself musing about something that really annoyed me between 2003 and 2005. This was part of the time of my life I spent working at The Cherry Tree restuarant, and one of the deserts they offered was a crème brûlée, but they didn't spell like that. I don't think I would have minded 'creme brulee', bearing in mind that the owners were a bit old and probably had at least a small amount of difficulty finding out how to type accented letters. But on the menu it was written as 'creme brulé'.

This annoyed me for three reasons.

1. They have spelt it wrong, 'crème' is feminine and therefore requires an extra 'e' on the past tense verb, that is 'brûlée'.
2. They have missed off the accent on 'crème', and they have missed off the other accent on 'brûlée'. (This wouldn't have annoyed me half as much if number three didn't apply.)
3. They clearly mananged to accent 'brulé' once, so why can't they manage them all?

Let's take an all or nothing attitude on this sort of thing.

But that attitude is probably not helpful in a lot of areas of life. It is helpful in the sense that if something is going to be a little, or nothing, it'll probably be nothing. However, if something is going to be some, or all, you'll try and make it all, have it consume your life, begin to annoy you, and you will ultimately fail. So, in recognition of this, you'll go for nothing in all things. That way you will never fail.

All or nothing is therefore perhaps only a bad thing when combined with a fear of failure.

All or nothing can leave you open to never appreciate 'good'. But that depends on where you set the bar for 'all', or indeed 'nothing'.

All is subjective.

last night i missed all the fireworks

Last night I danced the night away in Mornington Crescent. I was not in KOKO, but just across the road for a third of the price.

It was a small place, but not without its interests. There was a pole on a stage which provided an opportunity for the over-confident people among the crowd to show off. It was mostly gay men who availed themselves of this. During a song called 'The watering can song' a watering can the shape of an elephant is filled with vodka and poured into the mouths of the crowd. There are four girls paid to dress up and dance at the front of the front stage for the full 6 hours, one of whom was dressed as a sailor. Behind the front stage was a screen playing films on silent, last night these included Corpse Bride. There was a quick quiz and CD give away, which I managed to benefit from.

There was a very interesting lesbian couple, who rather unfortunately looked like a pair of drag queens. One did so in the large, wide, tall fashion of a pantomime dame, the other was also relatively tall but really skinny so spotting her boobs became difficult, but not impossible. She was possibly wearing a wig, but certainly a lot of hairspray, glitter false eyelashes on both sets of lashes. Clothing wise she had on an extremely short dress with suspenders and fishnet stockings. Bearing in mind the fact that most tights models are waxed men, this dress/stocking combo made me think 'only a man could have legs that good'. I then realised that the dress was so short I could tell she definitely didn't have a willy. Nice.

The worst dressed of the night goes to the woman who was at least post-30, tall, with a model's figure, wearing clumpy furry boots, a see-through black lace top with no bra, and black rubber hot pants with a red heart strategically placed where you'd expect it to be.

Despite these freaky-types, there were some genuinely normal people there. Even the people in what could be reasonably considered fancy dress weren't pretentious, and didn't look down at the more conventionally dressed. I didn't feel out of place. The professional dancing girls asked us to dance up on the stage. I got a free CD. There were no creepy too-old men that think students will sleep with anyone. The journey home was swift, easy and uneventful. It was a success.

But it made me realise again how many people are hurting, broken, needy, and looking in all the wrong places for the answers. And that if we're honest, even if we know were not to look, we all go there sometimes.

throw all consequence aside

Just a thought, is anyone actually reading? Please let me know with a quick comment, and if there is a 'following', I'll endeavour to improve my postings for my readership.

If not, I'll improve just for me.
I might do that anyway.

But, right now, it's time for sleeps. Night night.

can't you see what you've done?

Is being valued so rare that it ought to provoke tears? Or is it such a precious thing that we should all be crying everyday?

[I was being too cryptic, but if you want to find the puzzle, look here. ]