“Now all that’s left to me is Paris in the rain”

I was born for the stage

Originally uploaded by Lola how_i_lie

I was so determined to remain unimpressed. Despite my characteristic impatience, I managed to cope quite well with the seemingly interminable countdown until I would grace the shiny St Pancras International with my presence. Girlfriend in tow for our first official ‘couple’ holiday (pathetically only our first in the three years we’ve been together). Nonchalant as only a Londoner faced with a competing metropolis could be, I was all about the minimum fuss experience, about as far from my previous business travel whirlwind as I could imagine.

Straight up? It’s gorgeous. Stunning, magnificient and breathtaking. I am very quickly running out of superlatives and most days I struggle to conjure up even one. Perfect for walking around, surprisingly easy to navigate by public transport and we had the sort of crisp late winter weather than means that only the onset of mild frostbite could force us back indoors.

No stereotypical rudeness, an abundance of English speakers to meet us where the Higher French began to fail and a perfect set of experiences, each in their own romantic or comedic bubble that seems indelibly part of my memory slideshow.

In the end we dodged the favoured tourist pursuit of queuing. We did contemplate a synchronised shuffle round the Louvre, but the endless snaking miles of people at the Eiffel Tower settled our decision to focus on the more superficial, the wide-angle lens for our weekend. Well, that and K’s abject fear of heights could only be nobly suppressed for so long.

The buzz, the music, the hustle and bustle and godsent pizza down a side street, it really was a wrench to drag ourselves back to Gare du Nord. Overall, the most delicious part for me was the unfamiliar experience of relinquishing control. Other than wielding my map-reading-fu expertly, I let K do the talking and the deciding of pretty much everything and I actually relaxed for the first time in Jaysus knows how long. I suppose that’s what holidays are for!

“Like they have any right at all to criticise “

George Monbiot has produced an excellent, bordering on definitive article on the mess of religion interfering with access to abortion.  Since I’ve been old enough to know what contraception, sex and abortion actually were (and not from any form of s£x education at school of course) I’ve been firmly and completely of the opinion that the Churches cannot have it both ways.  If you want to lower or eradicate abortion, allow the contraception which will stop it even being an issue.

The needless cruelty inflicted by religious charities in developing nations, namely denying access to family planning resources appalls me beyond words.  They’re not dying from a lack of Bibles, you insufferable preaching numpties, they’re dying because they can’t stop having kids they can’t feed, or realistically prevent the spreading of STDs.  You should be dispensing condoms before communion wafers and anything other than that is far from humane.

“Could Jesus run for office and provide a perfect slate?”

So John Edwards has finally admitted defeat.  I’m not sure what irritated me most: his Ken doll $400 haircut, the blatant hypocrisy of a trial lawyer being “I’m Mr Poverty”, his ganging up on Hillary, or cashing in on his family tragedies at every opportunity.  Grown-up, my ass.

This primary election cycle is shredding my every last nerve, and I’m not even voting!  It matters a great deal even to the rest of the world, and when you compare it to the limp noodle that is the UK political scene, how can you blame me?

Obama is going to rue the easy ride that the MSM are giving him.  When he trashes opponents he’s “raising valid points”, but when anyone criticises him directly it’s racism or destroying hope.  Nonsense, he needs to be battle-tested before any Republicans get their hands on him.  Do people honestly think that swift-boating and the nastiness of the nineties will evaporate if you just avoid the Clintons?  Hell no, the same Democrat haters are out there, and a newbie just gives them unlimited ammunition.  He won’t get much mileage out of being the nice guy after March (and to be fair, I don’t think he could possibly be as saintly as made out to be, he is after all a professional politician).

As for the Kennedy clan endorsement, well, colour me not that impressed.  Ted is by far the weakest of the three political brothers, and while he’s more than paid his dues in the Senate all these years, most people outside the Democratic faithful view him as far too liberal and the woman dying in a river story doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.  I know about the political machine that he brings to the table, but that’s not much threat to a machine like the one at Hillary’s disposal.  Also, this is me finally publishing a pre-Super Tuesday draft, so suck it Teddy Kennedy, even your own state doesn’t listen to you. 

I really am anxious about the outcome of this nomination, and there’s no point denying that I am, and have always been, a Hillary fan.   Louisiana has already been conceded and realistically Obama could be in front for the first time in the delegate race.  It’s either going to be the start of unstoppable momentum that means Hillz losing ground in Ohio and Texas, or it may mean that the tougher questions are finally asked of him as a frontrunner.  He’s said nothing that I inherently disagree with (though I think he’s wrong on healthcare, Americans need a mandate or sweet FA gets done), but then he hasn’t really said enough for me to take issue with.  I can see why it’s all so captivating but surely Americans, Britons and everywhere else have realised that entrenched systems are rarely swept away by the force of one good slogan?  It’s all very well to bash lobbyists and the slow Washington system, pork barrel politics and all those very fashionable ideas, but eventually the person who is elected has to…. go to Washington and work with the existing system.  Who’s got a grade A in working in and successfully manipulating that system?  Step forward Mrs Clinton (I miss the Rodham, Hillz, I really do. And yes, I know you could say much the same of McCain.)

If we learned anything from the first Clinton administration, it’s that all the puppydog enthusiasm of a new wave cresting in the White House, vanquishing a disliked predecessor, it can’t actually do as much as you think.  Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell?  Healthcare?  All policy victims of thinking you can do it a new way, that you don’t need to have the Senate or Congress on your side.  If ever a country wasn’t ready for a liberalism revolution, it’s the US.  God, they think the likely Republican nominee is too liberal.  This situation calls for a strong will, a handle on minutiae and baby steps.  Incrementalism is sneered at, but it’s pretty much how every big change without bloodshed actually comes about.

“I may be mad, I may be blind, I may be viciously unkind”

Since Finn was nice enough to tag me, I thought it about time that I finally did that 10 Weird Facts About Me meme, since it affords a quick and easy peek into the dark mess that is my psyche.

So, without further ado:

1. I can’t abide anyone putting something made of wool in their mouth.  From pulling gloves off with lips to the cats chewing on a scarf, the saliva + wool combination actually makes me shiver.  I honestly think I could kill a person just to get them to stop
2. The buttons/ties/poppers on the duvet cover must, must, must always be at the bottom of the bed.  I believe I’ve actually been able to sense when the duvet has moved while I sleep and woken up in a panic to rectify it.  Not to mention tipping people out of bed to sort out the duvet before I’ll join them.
3.  I have a million different football superstitions, my latest is that I can only watch Liverpool on the living room television because if I watch in the bedroom or go to the pub, they lose or draw.  The living room seems to guarantee a win, so I’m not messing with it.
4. My happiest time is the middle of the night, dancing around in my jammies with headphones on.
5. I secretly want to be 90s TV character Murphy Brown, even though I have zero journalistic skills.
6. When I get on the tube, I’ll only sit on the opposite side to the door I got on at.  I’ll stand otherwise (unless my legs are actually falling off)
7. I am unmoved by all documentaries and charity appeals, unless they are for animals in need in which case I dissolve into a hysterical wreck and need trauma counselling.  I seriously can’t control this!
8. I have about five different accents, depending who I’m talking to.
9. I really, really hate South African accents.  I’ve tried to get past it, I have nothing against the country or its people, but despite meeting many lovely South Africans the accent remains like a tinfoil on a filling to me
10. I sleep better for having sung before I sleep.  I mean full-blown musical scores sung out of tune singing, until my voice gives out or K puts a pillow over my face.   You see why working nights is such a wonderful career move?

“You can wear the uniform and I could play along”

Now, I’m hardly anyone’s idea of a feminist.  Well, perhaps I should rephrase: I’m not any feminist’s idea of a feminist.  I tick most of the right boxes: pro-choice, liberated, independent; but for the most part I don’t feel the need to keep screaming and fighting like so many do.  I honestly believe that the real progress now has to be achieved by women themselves, since in this country at least many of the institutional barriers are non-existent. 

That said, I was shocked to see this van on the road outside my doctor’s office the other morning.  My initial reaction was mild bemusement, but after a moment I was outright horrified.  Firstly, it does nothing to dissuade that knee-jerk stereotype of the unenlightened working class male.  It may be that this is an ill-judged marketing ploy and in fact most women are as horrified as I am, but what terrifies me is the thought of women equating the need for skilled labour with the need to be married.  I may be lucky in coming from a family that recognised either gender may need basic skills like wiring plugs, putting up shelves or unblocking a sink, but surely it’s not so hard for the less fortunate people who have to learn as they go along?  Even if you argue that we London types with our high-falutin’ careers simply don’t have the time for doing odd jobs, then why is it only women who need this?  Overall though, I’m annoyed at thinking there are women like this out there, who need someone else to everything for them, either through marriage or paying a professional.  Whatever happened to self-sufficiency?