Women’s Ambition

I went to the most wonderful lecture after work today titled Women’s Ambition by Professor Michelle Ryan.

She talked about the fact that women make it to the very top levels of management an awful lot less than men do and how, even when you take in all kind of eco-socio-political factors, women are likely to earn around 20% less than their male counterparts.
80 pence for every £1 they make.

In the words of Kanye West (who I imagine doesn’t get referenced a lot in the history of feminist discourse): That shit cray.

The really mind boggling thing is the willingness of people to put this down to innate differences between men and women.
Actually, Michelle Ryan’s studies showed that there is nothing innate about these differences, they are socially constructed and then ingrained within us all.

It felt a little hopeless at one point, as though women have been doomed – by society and by their own actions – not to succeed.
However, Prof. Ryan turned this into a wonderfully positive thing: If women are not innately less ambitious, if the opportunities and the lack of female role models in positions of power is what’s putting them off, then it is entirely possible that we can change things with a little proactivity.

Anyway, I genuinely thought it was one of the best lectures I’ve ever been to and it almost (almost) made me miss writing my dissertation.

Alice.

Getting Festive!

I walked through town and saw all the Christmas decorations in the shops today and it made me feel really happy ^_^

I know Christmas is still over a month away but I am already excited – this will be the first time in three years that I get to go home to see my family without having to rush back for work or having an essay I need to work on over the holidays!

I love Christmas. It’s pretty and you get to wear big jumpers and no one judges you for having second helpings of everything and I always feel as though everyone is just a little bit nicer to everyone else around Christmas time.

I’m pretty sure it’s not okay to wear these until December 1st at the earliest, but I have spent the evening making adorable little Christmas bauble earrings:

Also (a bit of shameless self-advertisement) they are available for less than £5 including postage and packaging from my Etsy shop: The Niche Nook

Alice.

The Three Faces Of Alice

To The Outside World…

She likes earrings but doesn’t tend to wear a lot of other jewellery and she feels most attractive after putting on lipstick and mascara (and by ‘most attractive’ she thinks she belongs in a Parisian film and she will hiss loudly at you if you try to contradict this notion).
She is confident about her abilities, but don’t let the wide-eyed look fool you, she’s here to fuck up the idea that beauty is definable or should be confined to boxes…

…she also can’t smile with both sides of her mouth at the same time.

Seriously, her face looks like an advert for Nike:

When Alone…

It has become hard to tell whether the dressing gown is like a child’s comfort blanket or whether, at this stage, the bond has become deeper and she and the fluffy purple dressing gown are slowly becoming one.

Is this an item reserved for early morning/late night selfies, or does she just not like adult clothes very much? Is she a slob? Is she wearing pyjamas under that thing or just pants? And when the hell does she wash it?
We may never know.

To Her Nearest and Dearest…

She is a fairly dorky-looking creature with big eyes, a small tongue and a genderless haircut.

The most perplexing thing about her is that she allows these photos to be seen by people when, quite frankly, she should just be ashamed of herself…

Alice.

Wear Pinstriped Trousers. Feel Fabulous.

Today was my second day at my new job.

A run down of the last two day:
My staff access still doesn’t work on the computer for everything I need; the building I work in is like a maze (J.K. Rowling apparently the based the idea of the moving staircases on this building and now I see why…); I have attended three meetings with very important people, even though I have no idea what they’re talking about and no idea what I’m supposed to contribute yet; I have been booked into meetings as far ahead as next March by people I’ve never met; I have dealt with two potential academic misconduct cases, which were pretty horrid; I have been asked my opinion on everything you can imagine and I have only sometimes managed a coherent answer…

Starting a new job is one of the most tiring things I’ve ever done.
And I am loving it!

Going to go continue my Harry Potter marathon and pass out.

Pinstripes away!

Alice.

A Positive Attitude Towards Underachieving

I always tell myself, just as I’m going to bed, that I will wake up and go running or go to the gym or go swimming. And then I never do.
And I always write really long to do lists even though I don’t always finish them.

I think a lot of people do this. I think everyone is full of novels and career choices and health ambitions and serious plans to revise and study hard that they will do tomorrow.
I think that’s a very human thing and, whilst it’s obviously important to try and make our aspirations a reality, I think it’s also important that we don’t beat ourselves up too hard when we don’t make it to the finish line.
I mean, I used to be really hard on myself. I still am sometimes. But it used to be all the time and it just left with a really damaged relationship with myself… which is a stupid thing to have. After all, I spend so much time with me – I spend more time with me than I will ever spend with anybody else – so I might as well try very hard to get along with myself.

That said, I have been waking up with a lot more energy and motivation at the moment than I have been used to since graduation. I’m still not involved in any theatre projects and I feel that I may have to continue to let theatre take a back seat whilst I get fully on my feet, but I’m surprisingly okay with that for the time being.
So this morning I went swimming.

See. Told you I went swimming.

I had a load of other stuff I was meant to get done today but I accidentally ran into a friend outside the Cathedral in town whilst he was enjoying the sunshine with a sausage roll.
…perhaps that should be ‘he was enjoying both the sunshine and a sausage roll’… otherwise it sounds as though he and a sausage roll were both enjoying the sunshine…
Whatever.

I went back to his house (which I used to live in when I was a student, so that was kind of weird because I tried to open the door with my new house keys) and we watched the musical episode of Buffy together.
If you have not seen this, then find a way. Even if you don’t watch Buffy (which you probably should because it’s awesome) – it’s just great and it will make you smile.

Anyway, I didn’t get a lot of the other stuff I was meant to do today done other than buying food for packed lunches and going swimming. Not very long ago a to do list, to me, was like a list of rules. I got anxious when I didn’t get things done properly and I would often avoid doing anything that wasn’t on the list – even if it meant missing out on catching up with friends or having a bit of a breather.

A lot of the friends I made at University – actually, a lot of my friends generally – are about to start their second or third years of study tomorrow. And I am about to start a new job, where I haven’t really got a clue what I’m doing.
But that’s okay, because I don’t actually think anyone really knows what they’re doing. I used to think adults were people who had everything figured out, but actually it turns out we just get better at blustering through things and faking certainty the older we get.

I guess – in a way that is not meant to sound preachy but will ultimately sound clichéd as balls – what I’m trying to remind myself in this post is that I have to celebrate everything that I achieve. Otherwise I’ll drive myself nuts and end up hating myself. And so what if I haven’t done the washing up yet? Or put away the clothes that have been hanging up to dry for two days? I went outside, I went swimming, I ate too many cheesey twists (actually, there’s no such thing as too many cheesey anythings, cheese is good, always) and I feel content.

I mean, I still need to do the washing up. But it’s okay. Even if it has to wait until the morning. Everything is going to be alright.

Alice.

If Harry Potter Titles Were True to the Films… (Part One)

I have been marathoning (which I have just decided is now a verb) Harry Potter since yesterday evening. I am nearly at the graveyard in Goblet of Fire which basically means that I’m at the turning point where the whole franchise goes from child-friendly story about loveable rascals who can do magic and are pure enough of heart to defeat evil on a whim to politically-driven freedom fighters trying to survive long enough to bring down an oppressive regime (and we don’t talk about the incongruous epilogue).

tl;dr: Shit’s about to get real in the wizarding world.

I grew up on the Harry Potter stories, as so many people did, and they will always have a very special place in my heart, but that also does not stop some of the earlier films being hilarious to me now, so I have come up with some alternative film titles for the first half of the series…

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

or

Harry Potter and the School that Safety Regulations Forgot

Harry Potter and the Grounds Keeper Who Can’t Keep His Mouth Shut

Harry Potter and the Female Friend With the Strong Eyebrow Game

Harry Potter and the Child Actor Who Can’t Blink With Both Eyes At the Same Time

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

or

Harry Potter and the Grounds Keeper Who Still Can’t Keep His Mouth Shut

Harry Potter and the Day Puberty Dropped His Voice For Him

Harry Potter and the Continuation of Neville’s Suffering Before He Beats Puberty

Harry Potter and the Elf Who Thought Killing Him Personally Would At Least Save Him Being Killed By Someone Else

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

or

Harry Potter and the Headmaster Who Has Zero Fucks to Give and Will Happily Talk About Strawberries To Save A Hippogriff

Harry Potter and the Time Snape Got Revenge On One of His Childhood Bullies By Telling Everyone He Was a Werewolf

Harry Potter and the School Who Has the Ability to Use Time Travel But, Rather Than Go Kill Baby Voldemort, Gives It To A Girl So She Can Take Extra Classes*

Harry Potter and the Loud Irish Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

or

Harry Potter and the Time They Should Start To Realise A Pattern In Their Choice Of Defence Against The Dark Arts Teachers

Harry Potter and the Time Everyone Realised That Hermione Is Actually Gorgeous

Harry Potter and the Heartbreak Of The Line “That’s My Boy”

Harry Potter and the Only Time George Would See Fred As An Old Man

* The time travel in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban works based on one theory of time travel called Fixed Timeline, so I know that they couldn’t actually go back in time and kill baby Voldemort.
This brilliant graphic (that I think was) made by tumblr user slavicinferno explains it well:

Anyway. I have to go and get on with things (like watching Cedric Diggory get killed whilst I do the ironing), but before I go, I present you with my absolutely fantastic morning mohawk-quiff-hybrid…

It is so sad that I couldn’t do this to my hair on purpose if I tried…

Alice.

Part Two is now available HERE.

The Moon and Hummous and Cats

The Moon (a writing exercise)

A winking face,
Bulge fat and round.
Whispering reminders
Without making sound.

Witches and goblins and ghouls look on.
As do I.

A comforting face
to walk me home.
A friend with a torch app
on their smartphone.

Drunkards and lovers and fools look on.
As do I.

---

 

Today I ate hummous and made friends with a cat. It may or may not be a stray. I may or may not want to steal it and keep it forever…

How do you even spell hummous?

Alice.

Writing Wrongs*

A Sense of Self

He spends his life falling through cracks, trying to imitate others.
He often stops to wonder if he is anything new, a strange wonder the world had yet to face.
Or is he just the product – an amalgamation – of all that he has seen; all that he has heard; all that has come before him?

It is not a new thought but it has started keeping him awake.
He concludes that he is as meaningless as it is possible to be.
He would pull his duvet up, over his head, press it tightly into his mouth and scream if he didn’t feel that other people had done this already, and he is sick of doing what others have already made their own.

If only he could see. By falling short of the Greats; by occupying this space in between, he is finding his own way in the world, just off the tracks beaten by those who have been and gone.
If only he could see that, maybe he would think those tracks mattered.

---

There. Have some more experimental writing. You lucky, luck things.
I don’t like the ending but I don’t have time to do anything about it.

I have, for quite a while now, been trying to do a little bit of writing each day – often free writing, sometimes just experimenting with common ideas and themes, trying to find ways of expressing them in the limited yet all-too-variable form of words.
I have also been trying to blog every single day.

Now, working night shifts, keeping irregular hours, trying to apply for jobs, and trying to have enough of a life on top of all of that so I don’t just want to spend every day in floods of tears has been difficult and, quite often, either the time I want to spend writing elapses before I get anywhere, or else I write really boring entries on this blog and then I end up wondering why I’m keeping up with it at all if I have nothing to say.

So, for the time being, I have decided to combine the time I want to spend writing and the time I want to spend blogging. Maybe not every single day as a lot of what I write is totally illegible/sometimes not fit to be read but – at least until I get a day job – I’m afraid that this blog may start filling with meandering thoughts and abstract short pieces of prose.
So, sorry about that.

Then again, it’s probably a bit of a relief not to hear me moaning on about how difficult it is to be a graduate with a nice flat and loving parents and a job which pays the bills and enough money in her purse to buy too much red lipstick…

Final thought: I tried to take about eight different selfies today and this is the only one I like… I wonder if that says something about me…

Alice.

*I think I may have stolen this title from something else. I can’t figure out what. If it was you I am sorry, but there is also a chance it is self-plagiarism and I just don’t remember… 

Diplomacy and Family…

Last night I played board games with a couple of friends I met at college.

We played Diplomacy.

What do you mean it looks like I’m cheating?

 

I decided that the only way to write orders was in rhyme…

 

We also played a game called Zombies…

It ended badly…

But at least the little black dude got to the helipad and escaped!

 Had a lovely meal tonight with the family. Kind of sad to be travelling back to Exeter tomorrow, but ready to get on with my life…

 

Alice.

Sex and Drugs and Ukulele…

Today I went to a festival in my old college town.

My father was playing a gig there with his ukulele band, which is about as metal as it gets in this family…

It has been a nice, long, lazy weekend. I have written a lot and my sister gave me a henna tattoo (it hasn’t all set properly so it doesn’t look great yet):

Really excited to see the boyfriend tomorrow.

Alice.