Girl Plus Qwertyuiop

To all adoptive parents, hopeful adoptive parents, and anyone who has ever even considered adoption...

2011-12-12T17:01:00.001Z

I am posting this on my blog in order to share it further. I believe that this letter is open, truthful and fair and deserves to be read and taken seriously. It was not written by me, it was written by a fellow adoptee who has given permission for it to be posted as she too, believes that its message is incredibly important in a world that believes adoption is nothing but rainbows and butterflies. Massive thanks have to go out to her for writing this.

Recently I have been trying to be more honest about the realities of adoption for all involved and am very grateful for the honesty of others and the amazing network of adult adoptees who work so hard getting our messages across and fighting for adoptee rights across the world.

Unfortunately our message is often branded as bitter and blamed on a poor adoption experience. I would like to state for the record that my adoption experience has been as close to perfect as one can get, I have an amazing adoptive family and my reunion with my natural family has been so far very successful. I am not bitter, ungrateful or trying to upset any potential/existing adoptive parents. I am simply speaking the truth. I have lived and breathed adoption my entire life, I am speaking from experience in the hope that fellow adoptees will know they're not alone, adoptive parents can better understand what their children are going through and that mothers thinking of relinquishment may reconsider their other options.

I would not have posted this here it I did not agree with it. The words are not my own but I feel they eloquently convey a message which needs to be shared. I will say no more because this letter says it all.

To all adoptive parents, hopeful adoptive parents, and anyone who has ever even considered adoption:

Being adopted hurts. Being adopted is hard. It is not beautiful; it is brutal, it is tragic, it is a cause for great sadness. For in order for a child to even be available for adoption, that child must first go through some sort of tragedy; whether that be abuse, hunger, homelessness, neglect, or even the simple fact that he or she is losing the life and family he or she was born into. This makes adoption a thing to mourn; not a cause for celebration or joy. To be joyful about adopting a child is to be glad that this tragedy happened.

I don't think there's a soul alive who would actually choose to be born into a situation where being relinquished for adoption, voluntarily or otherwise, was necessary.

Of course there will always be a need for children to be removed from their parent(s) and placed in safer, more stable, loving homes - but please understand that no matter how good and loving and wonderful the adopting parents are, nothing will ever erase the pain, the grief, and the loss that comes with being adopted.

The very foundation of adoption is that of loss - a child loses his or her mother, father, and entire family; a mother, father and family loses one of their children. And, yes, even a loss for the adopting parent - sometimes the loss of the expectation of having their own, biological offspring, the loss of a dream of having a baby of "their own." A separation of one family MUST occur before a new one can be built through adoption. Maybe it isn't a voluntary destruction, maybe the destruction is necessary for the health and safety of the child - but it is still a destruction of the very core, fundamental foundations of that child's life that will forever be altered.

Think of it this way...one of your parents dies, and your surviving parent eventually goes on to remarry. Though you might grow to love and have a great relationship with your parent's new spouse, no amount of love and happiness in this present situation will erase the grief you feel over the loss of your other parent. So please, if you have adopted or are considering adoption, keep this in mind.

Adoption should be the very last resort after all other options have been tried. Ask yourself this - does an adoption HAVE to happen? Is there anything I can possibly do to help this young mother keep her child? Are there resources I can direct her to, items I can supply her with, can I offer her the support and encouragement she needs to be a good parent? If so, then pursuing adoption is not the right choice. Too many unnecessary adoptions happen as a permanent solution to a very temporary problem. Adoption, after all, is forever - while a current living situation, job situation, etc., is temporary and can be changed and improved. Most women who relinquish their children do so because they feel they have no other choice...but what if she does have another choice, and only needs the support and encouragement to make it?

Adopted people know we are a second choice, a "Plan B," a solution to someone else's problem. While there are some people out there who would choose adoption first, most only do so after failed attempts at pregnancy or to "complete" a family of all boys or girls or to give their current child a sibling. Adding to your family through adoption should never be about meeting some need of your own...it should always and only ever be about providing for the CHILD'S needs. Please don't put the added pressure on an adopted child by forcing them to live up to the unspoken standard of the child you couldn't concieve or the son or daughter you couldn't produce. Adoption is not a cure for infertility, nor are adopted people "gifts" to be passed around in order to complete somebody else's life. We are human beings in our own right, with our own feelings, needs, and wants. Don't add to an already painful situation by expecting us to be something we weren't born to be.

Please be willing to be completely open and honest with the child you may someday adopt. It doesn't matter how horrible of a situation they came out of; tell them the truth, and tell them early. For the truth can be dealt with, it can be processed and closure can be found; but nobody can get closure from fantasies and daydreams. Adopted people are stronger than you give them credit for; believe me when I say, we imagine and prepare for every possible scenario when it comes to our families or origin. Don't think we haven't entertained the idea that our biological parents were the worst of the worst, or idealized them as some sort of saintly creatures, and everything in between. We have already survived the loss of our original families; don't for one minute think we can't survive knowing the reason why. And on that note, if an adopted person ever chooses to search, reunite, or just know more about their family of origin, don't guilt them into not doing it or make them feel beholden to you. It has NOTHING to do with you. NOTHING. Human beings are born with an innate curiosity about who and where we come from. For some adopted people to feel whole, they need to know their own personal history and explore their roots. There's nothing wrong with that. After all, you, as the parent, are responsible for your adopted child's happiness and well being...not the other way around. Swallow your pride, put away your jealousy, and support your adopted child in any quest for truth they may wish to undertake. Believe me, they will thank you for it.

Don't fall into the terminology trap. Adoptees know they have more than one set of parents...two that created them, and the parent(s) who are raising them. ALL are real to the adoptee. Don't get caught up in who is "real" and who is more important; let your adopted child choose the terminology that suits THEM. If you have been a good and loving parent, that's all you need. Besides, a parent can love more than one child, so why can't a child be allowed to love more than one parent? The heart has an infinite capability to love. Don't begrudge your adopted child the possibility of loving people he or she may not even remember.

And don't disparage the biological parents or family either. They may be evil people, the scum of the earth...but to say anything bad about the biological family is the same as saying something bad about your adopted child. The child did come from these people, after all; and better or worse we did inherit parts of ourselves from them. The old saying applies here more than anywhere else...if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Adopted people experience a range of issues from having been adopted...many suffer from the fear of rejection and abaondonment, have problems trusting others and forming relationships. After all, our very mothers could walk away from us, so what's to stop anyone else? Though not all adoptees experience these, many do, and to varying degrees. Just because the adopted person in your life hasn't mentioned it, don't think they don't feel it. Many will never, ever talk about their negative adoption issues for those exact reasons...fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, and just the overwhelmingly negative response they expect. If the adopted person in your life (your child, a friend or other family member) ever does talk about it, take your personal feelings and judgments out of it. Resist the temptation to say things like, "But you had such wonderful [adoptive] parents!" or "but you could have been aborted/thrown in a dumpster/etc.!" Adoptees are the only subset of society who are wholly expected to be grateful for our very lives, and with this expectation comes the need to try to suppress any negative emotion or feeling. Most adoptees won't even admit to themselves, let alone other people, that they are hurting. After all, we got this "better life," didn't we? We don't have the RIGHT to feel sad/angry/depressed. So many adoptees choose to stay silent and instead live a lie.

And, yes, that goes hand-in-hand with the child-parent relationship thing...remember, the PARENT is repsonsible for the health and well being of the CHILD, NOT the other way around. Only in adoption are adoptees somehow expected to always be careful not to "hurt" their adoptive parents; not to rock the boat or bring up something about their adoption because their PARENTS might not like it. This is another reason so many adopted people don't speak about adoption...we are afraid of hurting our adoptive parents. I know that as a parent myself, I would never expect my children to be responsible for my well-being...so please, don't ever place that expectation on adopted people either. After all, their adoptive parents WANTED to adopt, they WANTED a child, and chose this path for themselves. The adoptee most often did not choose it and had no say in the matter. Don't expect gratitude. ANYONE could have been aborted, could have been abandoned, could have been abused. These are not phenomena that are solely related to adoptees. Just because a person was adopted doesn't automatically mean they were unwanted, that they "could have been" anything...they are just people who are being raised by a different family and are living a DIFFERENT life, not necessarily a better one.

Please, if you are considering adoption or have already, educate yourself. Read books such as the Primal Wound. Read blogs by adopted people and relinquishing parents. Go into it with an open mind and open heart. Understand that there is the very real potential that the child you someday adopt might just struggle with it. And while you can be a terrific parent, a wonderful guide and mentor, the damage has already been done. Be prepared to do the hard work of helping your child deal with any grief, anger, and other issues he/she may feel. TALK to them about it. Adoptees are notorious for keeping things bottled up...let them know it's OK to talk with you about them. Reassure them that you will NOT be hurt, offended or damaged by their feelings. ALLOW them the freedom to feel whatever they feel.

If you are considering an open adoption or have entered into an open adoption, HONOR that. Unless there is some clear and present danger to the life of your child, KEEP THE COMMUNICATION OPEN. Don't cease contact with the biological family because it's an inconvenience for YOU. Understand that yes, at times it might be emotionally trying for your adopted child, your child may come away from visits or reading letters and feel depressed and angry, but don't take that as a reason to cease contact. TALK to your child. Help them understand WHY they are feeling this way. It's only natural that this might happen; and in the same breath, the biological mother/father/family may also feel overwhelmed at times and pull back, but do what you can to keep the lines of communication open. Remember, adoption is based on loss, and being reminded of that loss can be overwhelming. But that doesn't mean it should be avoided. Your adopted child will thank you someday for sacrificing your own happiness and comfort to allow him/her to keep this very important connection.

Try not to make a big celebration out of your child's adoption day (and PLEASE don't EVER use the horribly offensive and insensitive term "Gotcha Day). The same goes for birthdays. For while it may be a happy occasion to remember, keep in mind that it also marks the day that the adopted person was permanently and forever separated from their mother, their father, their original family. Birthdays are especially hard; for most adoptees have the knowldedge that our births were not cause for celebration; nobody was bringing our mothers flowers and balloons and offering congratulations; our entrance into this world was one of sadness and trepidation. And it marks the day we were phyisically separated from our mothers; for many of us, it was the last time we ever saw her. So if the adoptee in your life withdraws around his or her birthday or doesn't appear to like celebrating, respect that. Understand that to many of us, it is not a cause for celebration.

I am not trying to tell anyone not to adopt. I am not saying, "shame on you" to anyone who already has adopted. What I am saying is, please step back and really think long and hard about the ramifications of adoption on the very person who is at the center of it all - the child you hope for or the child you have brought into your home. Be ready and willing to put a lot of hard work into helping this adopted child heal, to feel whole and complete in themselves. Be prepared to put your own needs and wants on the shelf and to put away your expectations, do what it takes to attend to the needs of your adopted child. All the love in the world, all the toys and gadgets and material things you might provide will never replace or erase what was lost.

Family preservation should always be the goal. Adoption should never, ever be utilized unless it is the last and only option left. Because adoption should be about finding homes for children in need; NOT finding children for people to fill a need. Jesus commanded us to help the orphan AND the widow...we as a society should do more to help famlies stay together instead of tearing them apart. Nobody really wants to be adopted...if given a choice, they'd rather their family situations could improve so that they wouldn't have to be separated. Would YOU have liked it if your mother gave you away?

Sincerely,
An adut adoptee

Baby Emma Wyatt

2011-08-21T12:34:00.002+01:00

I would like to add my voice to support John Wyatt's fight to overturn the adoption of his daughter. As an adult adoptee I know the pain of growing up away from your natural family and I am a firm believer in family preservation. It is clear to me that the rightful place for Emma is with her natural father. In this situation her adoptive parents are no better than kidnappers. They know full well that John has always wanted to parent his own daughter and yet they continue to fight him and deny his access to Emma. If this is allowed to continue I am without any doubt that Emma will grow up to resent her adoptive parents for this gross injustice.I am appalled that Utah state has rejected John Wyatt's attempt to overturn this illegal adoption of his daughter. I know that I am not alone in this opinion as there are many supporters for this campaign. If you agree that this is unfair and unjust and a violation of both Emma and John's human rights, click the banner above to visit the official website for baby Emma to find details of who you can write to urge them to return Emma to her father.

In my opinion these adoptive parents are unfit as they clearly do not care about what is best for Emma. They are only causing more damage to an adoptive daughter they claim to love by fighting this. They are selfish and so blinded by their desperation to parent that they have lost sight of what is right and what is best for Emma. I have no sympathy for them as they should have returned Emma the second they found out that her natural father opposed the adoption and wanted to parent his own daughter.

This case is very similar to that of Grayson Vaughn, who's adoptive parents fought for years to keep him and deny his natural father's right to raise him. Thank goodness that justice was achieved in this situation and Grayson was returned to his father, unfortunately it took three years for this to happen. The adoptive parents are again to blame here for the damage caused to Grayson being taken away from the only family he has known. They knew full well, like Emma's parents, that his father opposed the adoption and yet they chose to fight it and prolong the period of separation between father and son. This is selfish and wrong. People like the Vaughns and Emma Wyatt's adoptive parents disgust me. This should not be allowed to happen and I was delighted to hear that the Vaughns now owe Ben (Grayson's natural father) over 1 million dollars in damages. These damages can never replace the lost years for Ben and his son, but they are a step closer to justice. Hopefully this will put off any other adoptive parents in the future from denying natural parent's rights to their own children.

So Obama has a birth certificate? Lucky him.

2011-04-28T11:49:00.003+01:00

To Whomsoever it may concern,

I am glad that President Obama was able to obtain a copy of his Original Birth Certificate to prove that he was born in the United States.

However, if President Obama had been born AND ADOPTED in the United States, he still would NOT be able to produce his Original Birth Certificate for the public or even for his own viewing. By law, he would only be able to produce an "Amended Birth Certificate". (An Amended Birth Certificate is issued at the finalization of a person's adoption. This "birth certificate" replaces a person's birth name with a new name and his/her natural parents' names/info. with his adoptive parents names/info Once an ABC is issued, a person is kept from viewing/possessing their truthful documentation of birth. His/her Original Birth Certificate is sealed FOREVER.)

I wish President Obama had been adopted so that the country could see how discriminatory it is to seal an adopted person's birth certificate and replace it with a falsified one.

"We're not going to be able to do it if we just make stuff up and pretend that facts are not facts."-President Barack Obama, 3/27/2011

Sincerely,
An angry adoptee.

I did not write this letter. It was written by a fellow adoptee, who is angry for a very good reason. We have a few things in common, we both care about animal rights and adoptee rights. We were both relinquished for adoption and raised by people other than our biological parents. But here's where the similarities end. Being lucky enough to live in the UK I have access to my original birth certificate. As she, and millions of others live in the US they do not. This is because of an outdated and frankly outrageous piece of legislation which has the birth certificates of adopted people sealed away FOREVER. Adoptees are issued with a falsified certificate, which according to wikipedia is to protect them from the 'shame of their illegitimate birth.' Ha. Well I'm not ashamed of my illegitimate birth actually and if I was American I'd be more ashamed that my own country denied me the right to know where I came from.

If you are a reasonable human being I am sure that you will agree that denying these people their original birth certificate is a violation of their human rights. In some cases it stops them being able to get a passport and clearly they wouldn't be able to be president if that means they have to produce a document which is currently denied to them. Even though I am technically unaffected by this disgusting outrage, I will not stand by and say nothing. I want my fellow adoptees to have EQUAL ACCESS and EQUAL RIGHTS, because that is what they deserve.

Obama says he has better stuff to do than show off his birth certificate. Hopefully this includes releasing those of many of his fellow Americans. To be honest I'm not Obama's biggest fan, but this could change if he would just WAKE UP and see that he is leading a country which denies its own people some of their most basic human rights and that he needs to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

All credit to Mara, the 'angry adoptee' who's great letter I am sharing with you. Feel free to issue this to anyone you see fit and spread the word. As I am not in America sending it in to my local paper is not going to generate much response, but if any Americans who share my outrage do so I'm sure it would be a great help to the cause.

Living in Fear.

2011-04-07T11:28:00.001+01:00

Last night I was scared. This isn't a rare occurrence, in fact, whenever I sleep alone I tend to pull a 'Busted' number . I have an over active imagination and have probably watched too many horror films and murder mysteries. Anyway, it was past midnight and there I was looking up self defence classes, which made me think; am I letting my fears get out of hand? I'm going to go ahead and put forward an answer of yes. Why? Let's take a look.

Phobias:

1) Heights - I feel that this particular one has got completely out of hand, I even feel sick on hills and escalators. In fact, on a recent hill walking trip in the lake district I was only a few deep breaths away from freezing up and sobbing on the top of one particularly high and steep slope.

2) Needles. Let's just say that after seeing the syringe pit in Saw II I was found with my head between my knees to stop myself from fainting. I may be 20 years old but I will act like a 5 year old whenever I require an injection. Yes I have two tattoos, but those needles don't looks scary, because they don't look like needles to me.

3) Sharks - (water.) I don't like seeing or touching pictures of sharks and I never go in the sea. Pools are ok, but I still get nervous in the deep end.

4) Waxworks/mannequins. Horrible, they're like dead bodies. I can deal with shop mannequins because they're usually not too realistic. As long as I'm not alone with one or see one where I'm not expecting then I'm ok. Historical waxworks in museums and exhibitions freak me out. Probably because I once watched a goosebumps episode where they came to life and tried to kill the kids. The trouble is, I really enjoy museums and historical exhibitions so I have to send someone in ahead of me to warn me about any that might be in the next room. If they're behind glass I can stay in the room for a small while and look at the other stuff, but if they're loose I just have to run through without looking. Pathetic, I know.

So those are my phobias and I try and keep them in line so they don't stop me doing things. I did manage a high ropes course in the summer, despite wanting to cry all the way round. I just want to be able to do these things without the paralysing feeling that comes with them. I do get injections and I have given blood but I will never feel comfortable with needles or be able to watch them in use on tv without wanting to throw up. Eugh, makes my skin crawl.

Unfortunately those are not all. They are my phobias, but I have a number of other fears which I probably worry about more than your average person.

1) Sexual assault - hence the self defence classes. I also have a rape alarm, but I feel I need more and as mace is illegal in the UK I guess being able to pack a punch is the next best thing. Whenever I have to walk in the dark alone I am usually terrified. I hate being home alone and will insist on checking that doors are locked even when I'm with other people. I am aware that constantly fearing attack, even in my own home is pretty ridiculous, but hey, better safe than sorry.

2) Murder. Pretty much the same as above. Especially being stabbed. Is wearing a stab vest to the supermarket too much?

3) Kidnap. As above. I'm definitely thinking self defence is something I should invest in.

4) Car accidents. I used to get nervous on planes, but then someone told me that you are more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash. Now I sit back and enjoy flying, but get nervous when people I love haven't contacted me after they've driven somewhere. ALSO, wear seatbelts people. Man, I hate it when people don't belt up behind me on coaches. Thanks for putting your comfort before my life.

5) Any terminal illness or disease. I know that everyone is scared of these, but I think I take it to the next level. If I had my way I'd have a monthly health check to make sure I haven't got anything serious. (Obviously without needles though.)

6) Someone setting my house on fire. Fairly self explanatory.

6) Most of all I'm scared of any of the above happening to people I love.

If you would like to be as paranoid as me, make sure you watch as many horror films and murder mysteries as possible. If you never want to feel safe, even in your own bed, don't miss Paranormal Activity 1 and 2. Invest in a rape alarm and remember to split up cards and cash between your pockets and bag so any mugger will hopefully not get it all. If you want to carry something that can be used as a weapon then make sure it has another use or you'll get done by the police. Remember that anything you carry on you could also be turned against you by an attacker. Lock all your doors, check the batteries in your smoke alarm, research prices of bullet proof glass, stab vests and self defence classes. Wear sun cream. Skin cancer affects non-gingers too you know. Aaand seat belts. (Rude not to.)

You can thank me later.

ETA: I watched Katie: My Beautiful Face (available on 4od) and realised that I have the same level of fear as someone who has survived an acid attack. Watching her lock and check the doors and windows in her home and talk about wearing protective clothing was like looking in a mirror. Pretty sure I'm bordering on neurotic now. To be fair I'm not (and never will be) a model/TV presenter and therefore will hopefully never be in a position where I'm tempted to date a stalker but don't worry, I won't let that stop me being scared of it nonetheless. All joking aside, I need to sort my life out.

2011-03-23T15:54:00.000Z

For the first time ever I am ashamed to be a Glasgow University student. This is due to the fact that my status as a student at the University of Glasgow might affiliate me with the brats who currently occupy the Hetherington building, or as they like to call it 'The Free Hetherington,' as apparently their occupation of it, preventing it being turned into music and art facilities for students, makes it free.

If you have seen the news you may well be aware that yesterday, 22nd March 2011, police were called to evict these student protesters as they had been asked to leave by the university because their protest was no longer peaceful. The police gave the occupiers a choice, to walk out or be forcibly removed. They chose the latter. Now they're whining about police brutality and suchlike, even though all evidence I have seen shows the police acting perfectly suitably for the situation, in fact I comment Strathclyde police on their handing if the situation. I happened to be in an English Literature tutorial when they were evicted and so heard them shouting as they marched up University Avenue to the main building. This disrupted our tutorial as a girl in my class was trying to give a presentation. It makes me so angry that these clowns think that they represent the main body of Glasgow uni students and that they think they have the right to disrupt the rest of us who are trying to learn. As an English student I already pay fees so I'd like to get my moneys worth thank you very much.

To make matters worse, when they arrived in the main building they tried to occupy rooms within there to continue their ridiculous protest against cuts. The university then allowed them to return to the Hetherington. I am shocked and appalled at this! How can we give in to the temper tantrums of a few spoilt, immature brats and think that they represent the main student body? I urge the university to get these disruptive demonstrators out once and for all because, quite frankly I am sick of the "free" Hetherington and do not wish our reputable university to be associated with a childish minority who waste police time and resources.

The occupation at Glasgow uni does not receive any sympathy from me whatsoever. There is a deficit that needs to be dealt with, cuts need to be made and in all honesty I'd rather see pretentious losers like those at the Hetherington reach into their pocket and pay for their education than see DLA and pensions suffer. From what I've seen, these students deserve to pay fees because they just don't know how lucky they are. Maybe if they hadn't wasted a vote on Lib Dem then we'd all be a tiny bit better off. How can they think that acting like spoilt brats is going to get them what they want? Meanwhile, the people who risk losing their DLA are ignored because they're not having temper tantrums on the streets and attacking police. No-one is fighting for them because everyone is too busy watching the students kick up a fuss, well I for one refuse to let them be ignored! Put my fees up if you want Mr. Cameron, but please don't cut my sister's DLA, or anyone else's who needs it for that matter.

The students at the Hetherington have also created an event on facebook urging all students to support the UCU strike tomorrow by not using university facilities. Well, I have a report due on Friday that requires me to use minitab which I can only access in university facilities so I will be crossing the picket lines whether you like it or not. I am also less than sympathetic for the cause as it has lead to a lecture being cancelled that was going to be on a text that I had wished to use for my English exam. I'm sick of all these strikes that claim to be in the best interest of students, they do nothing but disrupt my day and waste my tuition fees. Sort it out Glasgow.

It's actually quite difficult to write this.

2011-01-28T11:49:00.000Z

I'm not sure if this will be published. I'll have to think very hard. The reason I'm unsure about posting this is because I'm worried that my families would see it and be upset. By no means am I trying to upset anyone but I feel I need to say this. To explain. Usually when I write about being adopted, I do so anonymously, but right now I feel it's important that I'm honest.

I was relinquished for adoption shortly after my birth. I lost my mother, my father, my brother and my sister... I gained a wonderful adoptive family. Two parents who loved me from the day they met me and have stood by me and supported me throughout my life and later, an adopted sister who I would move mountains for. I am grateful that I have a lovely family, that I have always known the truth about my adoption, that as a UK adoptee I have had access to my original birth certificate and that I am now in successful reunion with my natural family. I am grateful for all these things. I am not grateful to have been adopted.

People, mainly stupid people, or those who don't stop to think about what being adopted entails, have told me to be grateful that I'm adopted. That I was 'taken in', that I have a family despite being an illegitimate ginger kid, that I was 'chosen.' Apparently I'm bitter if I say anything other than how wonderful life as an adoptee is. Most of these people have no real knowledge or experience of adoption and probably think that my mother dumped me in a care home and my adoptive parents wandered in and picked me out of a line up. This is not what happened. My mother who is and will continue to be a great inspiration for me, made a plan and entrusted me to two people who promised to love and care for me all my life. My adoptive parents did not chose me from a home, but were matched as suitable for me after being approved to adopt. I am not a puppy. I am not from a rescue home and I object to being compared to an animal.

This probably sounds like a happy ever after. Why shouldn't I be grateful? Well, I'm not. No more than non-adopted people are for being born. Do I deserve to live less than them? No. I am not grateful that my mother couldn't keep and raise me herself. Sorry to disappoint you. Growing up as an adoptee is tough. I have missed my natural family my whole life. This is not any fault of my adoptive family, this is just what being adopted is about. Adoption begins with loss. When a child loses a parent to death, it is not unsuitable for them to mourn, even if they gain a step-parent in later life. I can, I have and I always will love two mothers and two fathers and all the siblings and nephews and nieces life throws at me because love isn't limited or defined by genetics. And at the same time I have and I will continue to grieve for the life that could have been. The life with my natural family.

Sometimes I want to scream because hardly anyone can understand. Sometimes people slip up and make a stupid comment and if I respond I must be the dramatic adopted kid. She's bringing that up again. Hasn't she got over it yet. She completely over reacts when people leave. She always needs to be told that she's missed and loved.

Yes I do over react. Yes, I will bring it up again. I am sorry. I truly am. I realise how selfish I must seem and I don't mean for it to be like this. It's not all about me, but it is. I was that baby who had no choice, no say and no part in the events that lead up to my adoption. I have grown up away from my natural family, in the knowledge that they were out there and having to come to terms with that fact they they couldn't be a part of my life until I was older, or maybe not at all. And now, I am in control. I'm in reunion and I'm telling you how I feel. I'm telling you that adoption isn't perfect. It gave me a chance but I lost an awful lot for that chance. I won't encourage any mother to give up her baby for adoption because it should only be a last resort. I will tell potential adoptive parents the reality of being an adoptee and I will continue to express my disgust at sealed records, the baby-buying business, Brad and Angelina's saviour complex, Madonna's saviour complex and all the rich people in the world who think it's good to separate mothers and children when for the money they pay for that baby they could help families to stay together. I don't care whose toes I step on. I won't let children be treated as commodities.

I'm not asking for sympathy, or attention. I mean only to offer some sort of explanation for myself. I can be very angry, I can be very emotional. To other adoptees, I am sort of normal, but the rest of the world can find me hard to understand. I can't keep explaining. I can't. I can't deal with that awkward silence when someone asks why I'm upset and I have to tell them I'm adopted. Even as I say it, I can see them thinking, thinking that I'm ungrateful, wondering how I missed a mother I can't consciously remember, not taking me seriously, not knowing what to say. There is nothing to say.

I love my adoptive family. I love my natural family. I blame no-one for what happened and I understand why. But I'm still upset. I am adopted. I am a lovechild, a bastard, lost and found, wanted and cherished and missed and loved and loved and loved. I know I am not the only one to have been hurt in this world and by no means have I suffered the most. I'm telling you this, I'm writing this because I want you to understand, to try and understand. I'm really trying. Because I want to be the best daughter I can be for the mother that adopted me and the mother who lost me. Because I want to be the best sister I can be for the sibling I grew up with and the siblings I am getting to know. Perhaps I want to prove that I can be something good even though this happened to me. I want to heal, I want to be happy. But I still want to educate the world. Adoption is about children and I was that child. This is my voice.

The Broken Of Britain.

2011-01-15T17:43:00.000Z

You may have missed this amongst the bratty student protests and the outrage against the coalition governments proposed cuts, but there are a large number of British people who are going to suffer far more, should this proposition go through.

The government are currently planning on cutting the mobility component of Disability Living Allowance, meaning that many people in residential care homes will be unable to get out and about. As a sister of someone with a hemiplegia, I have seen first hand how the smallest of everyday tasks can be a real challenge, even with a mild disability. Therefore, I am disgusted to think that our government would consider cutting the help for those who need it most. Disability Living Allowance, or DLA is a benefit paid to disabled people under the age of 65, to support them with their care and mobility needs. For many, it provides vital support that would be otherwise unable to afford.

The Broken of Britain is a disabled people's campaign to fight for the rights of disabled people and against hate crime. One Month Before Heartbreak is an event they are hosting to try and raise awareness for the government proposal. On 14th February 2011, there will be a consultation about disability reform. We all need to pull together to show our support for those who will be hit with the cuts, and to show our disapproval of the proposed cuts.

Disabled people can't easily march round London in protest. They're not ripping flags off the cenotaph or assaulting police officers, but they are going to suffer should the DLA reform let them down. Are we, the people privileged enough not to need DLA going to let this happen? Are we going to stand by and watch the student temper tantrum about tuition fees but ignore the plight of those who are far more vulnerable?

Please sign the petition at: http://www.petitiononline.co.uk/petition/petition-the-minister-for-disabled-people-to-recall-the-public-consultation-on-dla-reform/569/0aa4fc2026635b34c32b57a1e644d746

Follow 'The Broken Of Britain' on facebook and twitter to stay updated and to show your support for the campaign and visit: http://thebrokenofbritain.blogspot.com/ and http://onemonthbeforeheartbreak.blogspot.com/ for more information.

New Years Resolutions.

2011-01-04T15:22:00.000Z

1) Get back to the gym you fatty.

2) Stop worrying. Especially about people you love dying. They probably WON'T have been in car crash/got stabbed/been abducted/left the gas on and accidentally suffocated themselves/fallen in front of a train, just because you haven't heard from them for a while.

3) I know the budget is tight, but if you stick to it more you can probably have your cake and eat it too i.e. be able to go on holiday in the summer and still have money to buy tramps food.

4) Go to ALL your lectures. You know you'll regret it if you don't, what else do you think your tuition fees are paying for anyway?

5) Find more time.

Christmas Time....

2010-12-15T13:57:00.000Z

Mistletoe and wine.

I love Christmas. It's my favourite time of the year. I don't care if it's over commercialised or if it's not 'PC' to refer to the holidays as the 'Christmas holidays', instead of the 'winter holidays'. I'm sure the non-Christians won't mind. In fact, a lot of them will be celebrating the season regardless of whether they believe in Jesus or not. Some people think this is wrong. Turning Christmas into Xmas, taking the 'Christ' out, forgetting about the story of Mary and Joseph, the three wise men and the shepherds. However I think that Christmas is good because whether people believe or not, it is an opportunity for families to get together and for people to take a day or two off work. It's a time for children, when they can really believe in magic and it's a time where the public's generous natures is shown as people give gifts to the ones they love and donate more money to charities. Because it's Christmas. Because it's not all about you. Because your life really isn't as hard as you might like to make out and because some things are more important. Ever take a moment to be grateful for the life you have and to think about the ones who don't have it as easy? Or are you just stuck in the 'me' cycle?

This post is all about what I like to do at Christmas, aside from eating too much, drinking too much and getting over-excited.

This year as I have done for the past few, I will be returning to the streets of Royal Tunbridge Wells to try and persuade the shoppers there to part with some of their cash. Each year a group of buskers takes to the town centre equipped with a guitar, bells, woolly hats and smiles to raise money for a selected charity. This year the charities in the running are Scope, Read and MSF. Busking is a perfect example of people's generosity as last year the guitar case at our feet ended up with over £200 in it for The Salvation Army. Full credit goes to Squizzle's guitar skills, the ex-Wealdians 6th Form Choir and the clearly bulging pockets of the Royal Tunbridge Wells-ians. Hopefully the charity we choose this year will end up with an equally generous donation. Anyone in the area come and give us a penny or two on 23rd December :)

Christmas is also a time where people become far more aware of the homeless. Everyday I walk past lots of homeless people as I make my way around Glasgow. It honestly breaks my heart. Only the other day I saw a man begging to money outside Tesco, wearing only a t shirt and jeans. It was below -5 degrees outside. I wanted to help him, to buy him a jumper and take him for a hot meal, but as I only just have enough money left in my account to pay my rent, I knew to do so would break my budget. I can't afford to buy the big issue from every seller on Byres Road, however much I want to, and I can't always spend my own food budget on a homeless stranger. But at Christmas it's the end of term and this year, like last year I have saved a bit of money up to buy a food parcel for a homeless person. It's only a small gesture but when you live on £30 a week, it's the best I can do at the moment. But if everyone did something like that, it would make a real difference to someone's Christmas.

Another thing to do this year is to visit http://www.operationchristmaschild.org.uk/ and create a shoebox of gifts for a child in the 3rd world. You can do it quickly and easily online and the cost is small considering the difference you can make.

Christmas is great because people are happy, the streets are pretty and it's a chance to catch up with people you haven't seen for a while, (because maybe you moved to Glasgow from Kent and all your friends from home live 500 miles away...) But it's also great because instead of staying in and procrastinating about their own little life, most people realise just how lucky they are to have a roof over their head and money to buy food and gifts and therefore can be involved with the spirit of the season and help someone less fortunate. And when it come to New Years resolutions? I know mine will be to try and find the time and money to help people throughout 2011, because being poor/homeless/disabled/ill is devastating all year round, not just in December.

Perhaps this year the spirt of goodwill that makes me love Christmas so much, can continue on into the new year and maybe, 2011 will be a year that the people less fortunate than us can turn their lives around.

So I guess everyone's a 'visionary' now.

2010-08-25T19:43:00.000+01:00

There's no real better call to arms than 'everyone's doing it,' but please, if you read this, do not take it upon yourself to join the ranks of the irritating.

Back at Christmas I had a rather unfortunate coach journey from Glasgow to London. As I am a poor, poor student I was on the 9hr megabus and of all the people on the coach I was sat next to the nutter. Don't get me wrong, he was harmless and very friendly but BOY was he irritating. Not only did he write his own songs (mostly about Jesus), but he insisted on teaching these to me and making me sing with him. So, there I was sitting next to a man, who until a couple of hours before had been a complete stranger singing:

'Le-et Jesus come and take away all your troubles,

'Cause there's nothing that he can't dooo..'

Over. And. Over again. People were staring. The worst part was that he kept saying, 'hey, don't worry, I know I'm good, but you're ok too.'

FOR THE RECORD; he couldn't hold a tune if his life depended on it. He reminded me of all those deluded X Factor contestants who are genuinely shocked when Mr. Cowell enlightens them as to their total lack of talent. On the other hand, I can sing, I'm actually a classically trained singer and he was patting me on the head and telling me 'not to worry.' Mate, I wasn't singing quietly because I was in awe of you, I was singing quietly because I was on a COACH surrounded by STRANGERS, none of whom had requested A SING-SONG.

Anyway, the fact that everyone thinks they can sing is a WHOLE OTHER CAN OF WORMS. But, this man also told me that, despite never having studied psychology, he fancies himself as a bit of a psychologist and LOW AND BEHOLD, he had piles of notes on his 'theories.' Which he read. To me. For hours.

I can't tell you in detail what his theories were, because I literally switched off after about five seconds, but I can tell you that they basically followed this gist:

'Live life to the full';

'Believe in yourself';

'To reach your full potential, you have to work hard';

'Don't be afraid to go for it', etc etc etc.

I'm sorry, maybe I am just blessed with enlightenment but I'm pretty sure, that EVERYONE KNOWS those little gems of wisdom and it doesn't take some idiot with a massive spiel of denty bungle, who fancies himself as a bloody visionary, to tell us.

Bill Hybels said that: 'Visionary people face the same problems as everyone else faces; but rather than get paralysed by their problems, visionaries immediately commit themselves to finding a solution.' Right. So I'm pretty sure these procrastinating, Hamlet types aren't really all that visionary, or they wouldn't feel the need to write all that rubbish down. (Not that Hamlet was rubbish, I heart Shakespeare.) These people, like my megabus buddy, need to get over themselves, because guess what, you're not the first to question the point of life, and you're certainly not the first to get on everyone's nerves telling the rest of us what you think, and then what we should all do, based on this 'revolutionary' view of yours.

To be honest, visionaries should be long gone. It's all been said and done before and if anyone tries to tell you different, they probably think that they some sort of visionary, when in reality they're just a student who has suddenly got a glimpse of the real world and now has an opinion on everything. 'Visionaries' today, just grind my gears.

Oh opinions, how you make life fun. I have many strong opinions: I hate abortion, I believe in the British Army, I know the importance of nature and that of nurture, I support equal rights for everyone, (not just your usual homosexual, women, racial minorities, but also the often forgotten; disabled, adopted and fathers etc.) However, these and all the rest of my strong opinions are on things I know about, things I am actually, or have been, involved in, not just my feelings formed by watching a documentary, or the news, or reading a book. The ignorance of the general public astounds me, not necessarily on these things but about so much in general, and not only their ignorance, their belief that they can debate or argue on these subjects that they know next to nothing about.

Now don't get me wrong, when it comes to opinions, views and feelings feel free to spew them everywhere. This blog is a prime example of that! But what I'm trying to say is, if it's important, get a well-formed opinion, before choosing to tell the world, or argue about it... and don't expect everyone to listen. Believe me I don't, if I did, I wouldn't have this blog as a space to vent.

Opinions are great. They make life interesting. And you know what? Even if you have no actual knowledge to back up your opinions, it makes it that bit more fun for the rest of us when you try to argue. But opinions don't make anyone a visionary. If they did, I'd be up there with the greats, but they don't. No, you're not revolutionary for voting Lib Dem, just clearly young and inexperienced with politics, or you probably just hated Brown and Cameron. And no, you're not a visionary for opposing the war in Iraq, I've never met anyone who supported that and I've been involved with the army for years. And guess what? Pride? Yeh, that's been going on for ages, you went? Good for you, but it would be great if there was a huge festival for every other minority group whose rights are overlooked as well.

The world needs to open it's eyes. There are better people than your favourite actress, singer, writer or sportsperson. There are organisations that do more than Starbucks for fairtrade and the environment. You're not fighting for anything if all you do is talk about it, or sit behind your screen and write all about it. There are people actually out there fighting and facing real bullets whilst you sit all cosy with a glass of wine and reveal your feelings about the war, or gay rights or serious illness. If you really care about something, actually get involved, raise some money for charity, sign the petitions for what you believe in, write to your MPs about the issues that matter. Go ahead and write, tell the world, spread the word, but don't fall into that age old trap of simply sharing your view without raising any awareness of what people can ACTUALLY do for the cause. Opinions, when they lead to action are what makes everything count. Just watching that documentary about children in Africa and saying 'oh how terrible,' is not enough. Nor is writing about how sad something made, you and how much it made you look at your own life. That's great, how about trying to help stop it happening again?

Like right now, there are thousands of families missing a father, mother, brother, sister, daughter or son, because they are out there fighting. The armed forces are something I have always and will always support. On myspace there is a section where people can put who their 'heroes' are. Most fill it with friends, musicians and actors, few of whom have ever done anything heroic. I ask you to do your bit today and spare a thought and maybe even a couple of quid for the real heroes: http://www.helpforheroes.org.uk/donations.html.

One friend of mine who is not quite in the army just yet, but is still a hero to me is Sian, who is doing a Dragon Boat Race to raise money for The Scotts Project Trust - which provides care for adults with learning disabilities. To sponsor Sian and help support this worthy cause please visit: http://www.justgiving.com/Sian-Harris91.

Let's stop talking and procrastinating and writing and and start doing.

Oh and if, like my megabus pal, what you're writing about isn't even a proper opinion on something, but just some stupid theory on life and how deep you are? Shut up yeh?

On Being Legit.

2010-08-10T18:27:00.000+01:00

This Summer I've become very aware of the Adoptee Rights Coalition, whose basic premise is to fight for the rights of adoptees to access their original birth certificate.

If you are a humble member of the general public who hasn't experienced adoption then you may well be unaware that in some parts of the World, most notably America, when a person is given up for adoption their records are sealed and they are given a modified birth certificate. These people are then denied access to their own original birth certificate, and despite this in itself being a breach of what I see as a basic right, for some people it has caused problems in gaining passports etc due to the gap between the DOB and the registration data.

The reason I'm writing this post is not only in outrage on behalf of all those 'unlucky' adoptees who cannot find out the truth about where they came from and who they are, but also to try and raise awareness amongst the general public inc. the UK as I don't think that just because we are fortunate enough to have our OBCs, we should abandon the fight for equal rights for all adoptees. I have always had my OBC. I am a lucky one. I shouldn't be, it should be the norm.

Adoption is not something widely spoken about and a vast percentage of people have their facts about it drastically wrong. One of my pet hates is when people tell me how sweet it is that my parents chose me. No, that's not how it works. I'm not a puppy. You don't just walk into a foster home and say 'I'll take that one please.' Also, please don't ever tell an adoptee that they should be grateful. I'm not anymore grateful for my life than any other person, saying anything otherwise is suggesting that I deserve to be here less than a child who stayed with their biological parents. And for crying out loud, don't ask us who our 'real' mothers are, or worse try and tell us. I have two, very real, very lovely mothers. That's my view. Other adoptees may only accept their birth mother or only their adoptive mother, or neither. 'Real mother' is a term that annoys me as it implies that one of them is made of plastic or just a complete fake. Telling me who you think my real mother is, is not only presumptive, it's patronising.

The truth of the matter is that there's a lot about adoption that people who haven't experienced adoption can never understand. I can barely put into words how I feel sometimes for my own benefit, so trying to explain it to others is even harder. It's not simple. It hurts. But I'm ok.

The way the media chooses to portray adoptees also really grinds my gears. From the film Orphan, to a storyline in Hollyoaks, adoptees are apparently either bitter psychopaths or as seen in 'Bella', we're perfect, simpering little kids who are just so grateful to have been adopted. Sick. I wish more people were educated on the truth about adoption, so that people wouldn't make hurtful comments, assuming that no-one in the room is adopted. Yes, science teacher that told the class that adopting 'isn't really the same' when someone inquired why an infertile couple trying to use cloning to have a child, didn't adopt. Oh it's not the same is it, I guess my adoptive parents love for me is all for show then. Get out. And the other science teacher that set my homework as getting a photo of each parent and then matching where all my features like hair colour etc, came from, you can get out as well. And as for the rest of world, who will blurt out stupid 'oh I'm adopted' jokes, 'get out', is too polite for you.

Adoption is not perfect, especially in countries like America where too much money is involved for the agencies to remain impartial and fair. However, it has given me a chance at life, unlike abortion, which is so often quoted as the 'cure for adoption.' I'm sorry that there are adoptees out there that wish they were aborted, that's them. I'm certainly not one of them, I love my life. But what every adoptee deserves, whether they're glad to be here or not, is their own birth certificate. How dare the state try and keep anyone's identity from them. I give full support to adoptee rights activists and hope that they can win their fight to get everyone what they deserve. The video featured here is that of Zara H Phillips and DMC - I'm Legit and looks at the issue of adoptee rights. This is a cause that anyone who believes in human rights should support, whatever parents they were raised by.

I'm legit, and so are we all. Adopted or not.

http://www.adopteerightscoalition.org/

Less Glee, more gloom.

2010-07-22T19:26:00.000+01:00

So, I guess I'm a bit late with this but hey. There are worse things to be late with.

Glee's season finale. Now, I know that a load of you Gleeks out there were wiping tears off the remote, applauding Matthew Morrison's 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow,' and cheering on Sue Sylvester as she voted for New Directions. I'm not gonna lie, I am a Glee fan and have watched and loved the entire season. However being away for the last three episodes and having to catch up a month later had left me a little bit behind. But everyone I know was going on about how great it was and... then I finally watched it.

Let's do this in a good ol' compliment sandwich. So I loved their Journey compilation, I mean, it didn't blow me away, but it was good. Sue Sylvester voting for New Directions? Nyahh, I like the sentiment, but realistic? No. Now obviously Glee isn't meant to be the most realistic show ever, it's a musical, high school drama, but Sue Sylvester suddenly changing her mind about the Glee Club? Not likely, but hey, nice little twist. I'm glad they didn't win, as keeping their status as 'underdogs' makes it much more interesting.

There we go, the bits I liked. Now, onto the rest. Will and Emma love each other, Rachel and Finn love each other, what a cliché. But, clichés are what musicals are all about, right? Glee seemed to take this to the next level; Quinn giving birth mashed up with Vocal Adrenalines' 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' was more than a little ridiculous and 'To Sir With Love', nice sentiment, but again, cliché. Now I'm not asking for serious drama here, but at least give me something I could vaguely believe.

As for something else I couldn't even vaguely believe, Rachel and Shelby's relationship. Not only ridiculous, but very annoying. So after Shelby's gone to all the bother to find Rachel, she abandons her yet again. Something that Rachel seems to deal with very well. Too well. Oh and that moment when they sang together in episode 20? I actually lent forward out of my seat to see what song they would chose for this special moment... oh of course - 'Poker Face.' Then Rachel hears that thanks to her being left motherless, Shelby has NOW discovered that she wants to be a mother, but as it's 'too late' (what?) for Rachel, she'll just replace her with a brand new baby. And of course Rachel accepts this with good grace.

And to top it all off, where does she find that new baby? Oh, when she justs turns up at the hospital, signs a piece of paper and takes, surprise, surprise Quinn's baby. For me, that was just too much, and Quinn? Oh, back to school, back to normal, no sign of any grief that goes alongside giving up the child you've carried for nine months. Yeh, let's just throw in a happy little adoption story to make it extra musically sickening. I don't think that anyone whose ever been affected by adoption would be anything less than annoyed with that conclusion. It was obviously written by someone who, as usual, has no idea, and has thought it too trivial to actually research. Of course no-one in real life has ever been involved in adoption so it's not like anyone will notice, or be bothered by it. I bet everyone who has been privileged enough to lead a life not touched by adoption thought it was the perfect, adorable ending, but then again, ignorance is bliss.

Overall it just felt like they were desperately trying to tie up all the loose ends and in my opinion they tied them too tight. It was too perfect, it was too cliché, it was ridiculous and I hated it. Oh, don't get me wrong, I will be tuning in for the next season. I'm still a Gleek and I love a good musical number, let's just hope that next time I'm not left with such a bad aftertaste.

I COCKING LOVE...

2010-07-18T17:48:00.000+01:00

My fitness hula-hoop! Had it a few months now and it's great. When I was still at uni I would whap on an episode of 'Desperate Housewives' and do some hooping every morning. I must admit that I find the claim on the website that it can burn 300 calories in 10 minutes a little too good to be true, but hey, any minus calories is good with me. The fact that this can be taken apart means that this trusty little fitness buddy will be following me round for most of the summer. Oh yes.

May.

2010-05-25T15:09:00.000+01:00

All my lectures have finished
For the year so
I've been relaxing in the sun.
It's been a lazy day and
I had sushi for lunch.
I wish I could afford sushi everyday.
The West Quadrangle is quiet
Now exams are over.
I wish I could hold onto this feeling
Forever. I wish I could capture
This moment. This one
When everything's okay.

There's
Fluffs of pollen falling
Like snow. I'm listening to
Christmas music as I head down
University Avenue. It makes everything
Seem so happy. Byres road is full of students,
Sunglasses and Shorts.
Cars in traffic roll down
Windows to catch a breeze.
That woman is playing her mouth organ
At the bus stop. I wish I had some
Change. But I don't like change
I cried when we moved next door.

Crossing the road
I decide to take the long way
Round. I head through the Botanic Gardens,
Where hundred of people line the grass
Making the most of those UV rays.
Bet they're not wearing factor 60
Or even 30.
Down to the river where
The shade is welcome.
Couples work together to lift
Prams up the stairs.
Babies are so cute. I wish...
But maybe in a few years.

Dog walkers
And kids on bikes
Love this route. I'm walking
My run backwards. It seems
longer this way. Two men wave
At me as they sip beer in the sun.
I wish I had a beer. A cold one.
But no ice.
I'm not falling
For that old scam Spoons.
Oh Spoons,
I miss your doubles for £2.90.

The canal
Winding back up to Murano,
A solitary swan preening at the
Edge of a lock. Drunk
Glaswegians ask if I'm
Enjoying the sun. 'Yes'.
But it's so hot.
I wish I had a parasol. Are
Parasols still socially acceptable?
What do I care,
I'm ginger and wearing Indian harems.

Sixty-five steps.
Sixty-five to get up to my house.Seventeen
is the worst one. It's a bit bigger than the
others. I'll be moving out in a few days.
No more counting.

And
I'm looking forward to going home. I'm
so happy we're getting on well. I know
I'll never be sad again. I'm in my room
and it's a total mess. Your photo's on the wall.
I need to email you. I need to start packing.
I need to buy a parasol.
I'm glad I found you. I'm so glad we've met.
Summer stretches out in front of me

Cornflakes for dinner.
It's all I have left.

The Privilege of Being a Woman?

2010-04-17T17:35:00.000+01:00

"Let all the babies be born. Then let us drown those we do not like." - G. K. Chesterton.

I'd say that's a fairly shocking statement. One that most people would say is disgusting. But is it really? After all we are in a culture where in 2008 the total number of abortions carried out was 195,296. And that's only England and Wales. That statistic sickens me, just as much as I expect the opening quotation would sicken the vast majority of the British public. But luckily, drowning babies is not socially acceptable. Tearing their little bodies into pieces with a suction tube is. Not to mention the part where the head is too big to fit down the tube so it has to be crushed first. Like cracking a nut.

You have probably guessed that I am anti-abortion. I should clarify that this does not make me anti-choice. I would never want any woman's choice to be taken away from her, but I cannot understand how an abortion is ever anything anyone would choose unless they were in a life or death situation.

This little blog post has been inspired by a number of things. Firstly my dealings with various people around the internet who tell other women who are considering to put their child up for adoption that they should abort it. I understand where they are coming from but I want to see more encouragement for PARENTING as an option.

Obviously many of these people told me that I was wrong. That abortion was not murder. It was preventing the creation of a child, not murder as the child never existed. They're not alive, they're just a bunch of cells etc etc etc.

Right. Forgive me, but I was under the impression that contraception PREVENTS creation, abortion DESTROYS.

Nope, apparently abortion is just a surgical procedure to prevent pregnancy, so therefore is contraception.

I'm sorry, but if you don't realise that to qualify for an abortion, you kind of need to BE pregnant, then I'm clearly wasting my time trying to have an adult discussion about anything as complex as the abortion debate.

What worries me is that there are plenty more out there:

embedding is disabled, but if you follow these links you will find a woman who I would quite happily punch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0i5-rNTwtEM&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2hHdtqNIZDo&feature=channel

and this girl is actually on a pro-choice rally, when she has no idea what she's talking about. Fine be pro-choice, but get some facts:

and this is why Obama isn't 'baracking my world.' Partial birth abortion is currently still legal in cases where the parents discover their child has a disability such as down's syndromee. The child is deliberately induced early and then left to die. It is infanticide and Obama voted against an ban on this:

My views on abortion are nothing to do with God. Abortion is not a religious issue, it's a human, moral one. I think abortion is the most selfish, sickening thing that we as humans have ever invented.

"Human beans is the only animals that is killing their own kind." Roald Dahl - The BFG, not strictly true, but raises the issue of what kind of race devises methods to kill their own children? What kind of mother could choose an abortion? How could any woman raise kids, knowing that they had killed one in the past, perhaps because they deemed themselves 'not ready,' perhaps because they couldn't bear giving up a child to adoption so the easy option for them was to kill it, perhaps because they were focussing on their career back then. It makes me despair of the world.

I know that, sadly, my views are against many of the people I know. I wish abortion could be illegal, but, it can't, simply because making it illegal won't stop it, it would just be made more dangerous for the woman. I do, however think it should be harder to get, and that the time limit should be reduced. The election is coming up and unfortunately the only party that seem to suit my views are the Torys. Who I hate. But I hate abortion more.

I have had argument after argument on this topic so if you are reading this and want to disagree then I suggest you watch this as it covers almost all of my points, so it will save you a lot of time. If you still want to have it out then feel free, I like nothing better then telling pro-abortionists how awful I think that view is. Some say I'm anti-women by being anti-abortion, but that makes those of you who are pro-abortion, anti-baby. Abortion should always be a last resort, it should not be readily available for every woman who gets herself knocked up. Yes it's your choice and you chose to have sex, knowing the possibility of pregnancy is always there, even when taking precautions, so please, stop for a moment before you condemn me as anti-woman, or anti-choice, or deluded. Yes it's a baby, or else you wouldn't be pregnant and yes, at 3 weeks after conception the heart is beating and 5-6wks into the foetal stage, despite being only an inch or so big it can breathe, swallow and hiccup. This is what pro-abortion campaigners don't want to hear, as one of the main premises of their argument is that foetuses are not living. Who are they to decide when it's ok to kill, or who should be allowed to live or die?

Abortion destroys life. No-one can contest that. Abortion is anti-life. You want one? Then live with that fact and be grateful that whoever conceived you, thought differently. You may fight for animal rights, be against animal testing, be a vegetarian. You may fight for the environment and chain yourself to a tree. You may fight for women's equal rights, for the right to education. I'm just fighting for the ones who don't have a voice, the ones who may not be able to rely on their own mother to defend their right to life.

"I've noticed that everybody that is for abortion has already been born." ~ Ronald Reagan.

January.

2010-01-18T20:13:00.000Z

My psychology lecture has finished so
I'm walking home. It's been a long day
but it's finally six and I can go.
I forgot to charge my zen player
and I wish I had some music. Ashton Lane
is brightly lit and the music blaring
from 'Ketchup' makes me smile.
I wish the lane was longer. I wish I could afford
a burger. Maybe crocodile, or maybe that Hawaiian
one with guacamole.
I love guacamole.

There's
a man sitting on an upside down metal bin,
playing the mouth organ, a few coins in
the hat at his feet. Byres Road is
so familiar now, as is the Subway station
that blasts me with warm air and the faint
smell of sweat and students as I hurry past.
A car is caught
in traffic and decides to share his music
with me. I think that's nice because I
forgot mine.

Crossing the road
you have to be careful. The cars
just don't indicate here. One,two
three go by. No indication.
I wish they would indicate.
I notice that there's an awful lot
of polystyrene chip boxes on the pavement.
Scotland should probably invest in some
biodegradable chip and kebab containers.
Would save the litter pickers some time.
That or they'd be out of work.

That pharmacy
has turned into a Boots now.
I thought it was getting robbed as
I walked past because the alarm was
going off, but then I realised it
was just the staff leaving.
I don't know why I imagine that wee
shop to be such a crime target.
The staff are laughing
I wish I knew what was funny.
I hope it's not me, I'm not even wearing
a silly hat today.

The hill,
it doesn't hurt anymore, it's so much easier
I think, therefore I am
assuming that I must be getting used to it.
I'm racing the boy on the other side. I'm
definitely going to win. He probably dropped
all those kebab containers. Puffing. Puffin.
Penguin. But I prefer a kit-kat.
I wish I had a kit-kat.
I pass a mother and her children.
I smile at them, the little girl's
talking about cardboard.

Sixty-five steps.
Sixty-five to get up to my house. Seventeen
is the worst one. It's a bit bigger than the
others. I counted the ones up to my flat door.
There's eight.

And
I'm so happy you remember. I'm
so happy that you'd wondered. I think
I'll never be sad again. I'm in my room
and it's fairly tidy. Your photo's on the wall.
I need to email you back. I need to sort my
lecture notes out. I need to charge my zen.
I'm glad I found you. I'm glad we looked.
It's a whole new year.

Soup for dinner.

You know what? I am going to speak ill of China's judicial sovereignty.

2009-12-29T23:58:00.000Z

Totally side-stepping from my usual lighthearted blog topics but I am so angry.

So this bloke,; Akmal Shaikh was executed. Personally I think it's disgusting. Just looking at the responses I've seen on facebook and suchlike makes me actually despair over the state of the world. This man, whether he was innocent or not should never have been killed for what he did. Full stop. And the plebeians that seem intent on throwing their ignorant, racist opinions on the matter all over the internet need to grow up, learn how to spell, get some facts to form an educated argument and then just maybe I maybe able to take them seriously. Comments like:

'look like your plan dident work' from one such ignorant pleb, pretty much sums up how the point behind a facebook group created to offer support to the man facing execution, is completely lost on some individuals, who still feel the need to carry on posting more and more comments such as 'well there is not much we can do now.'

I also found out today that apparently the reason he went to China was because he was trying to promote this song, which he genuinely thought would be a number 1 hit and help bring world peace:

It just makes me want to cry that this man has now been executed by a country with an already blood stained human rights record. I just read an article that described how China are now warning us to stop fussing about this serious miscarriage of justice or we'll harm the ties between our two countries. SORRY, WHAT?

Nobody has the right to speak ill of China’s judicial sovereignty,” said spokeswoman Jiang Yu.

“We express strong dissatisfaction and resolute opposition over the groundless British accusations. We hope that the British side can view this matter rationally and not create new obstacles in bilateral relations.”

Yeh, because killing people is definitely the best RATIONAL way forward and that's definitely not going to CREATE NEW OBSTACLES IN BILATERAL RELATIONS.

You know what? I am going to speak ill of China's judicial sovereignty. China may be a super power, but they are NOT God and they have no right to execute anyone, especially one who was clearly an expendable drug mule, who was too mentally ill to know what he was doing.

All that is left to say is Rest In Peace Akmal, I hope justice will be done.

Peter Stringfellow.

2009-12-14T18:21:00.000Z

Peter Stringfellow once said that women are either funny or sexy and can't be both. Examples given were: Kate Moss - sexy, not funny and Lily Allen: funny, not sexy. I for one would like to challenge this as I think Lily Allen is actually quite sexy. ALSO my friends are very sexy and they're also pretty funny.

People often tend to laugh at me which would suggest that I'm in the 'funny, not sexy,' category that Stringfellow so kindly assigns to those of us who aren't blessed with blonde hair, normal shoulders, long legs and nice noses.

Then again, I'm also pretty sure that I have caused at least a few men some distress. Not going to go into all that because usually this leads to, or is caused by my own distress. Actually, one friend over the summer actually introduced me as 'Linda, she can be a bit of a maneater.' This was mainly down to a phase I went though... (am still in?) in which I decided that pretty much all men have hurt women at some point, so I would start to take, small, but pleasurable measures to get revenge. I love revenge. Money, dinner and revenge are three of the greatest motivators in my life. ANYWAY, I generally just did this by getting them to spend money on me, money to get into clubs, as many drinks as I could get etc without me having to even kiss them, just make them think that I might if they get me what I want. Nothing massive, I'm not fleecing men for diamonds so that at least when 'those louses go back to their spouses' I have a best friend.

BUUUT I would if any of the men I chose to fleece could afford diamonds.

I also would keep the usage of them short-lived, to make sure I didn't get attached or anything ridiculous. So usually after a few drinks, I'd bugger off and find a new one. I have been known to get a bit carried away though, in fact one night, when I was feeling particularly cold towards the male race, I got so many free drinks that I decided that talking was too much effort and that simply breathing in the next blokes ear would be the way forward. Oh yes.

Needless to say it worked, he might have just thought I was out of breath, but care as in I don't (meg) I got another free drink. At this point though, number 3 came up to me and started pointing at number 5 as if to say 'how come you're dancing with him now?' and I just shrugged like I have no idea what this guy is doing, then number 1 turned up and started on 3 and 5 and I decided to finish my drink and exeunt.

I'm not entirely sure what happened after that or whether that has proved anything to do with women being funny AND sexy, but either way when I got back, I spent about half an hour purging all those hard earned beverages from my overworked long suffering liver. What a night.

Ridiculous things I have said in blogs over the years.

2009-12-12T17:31:00.001Z

Ok, so in my time I have done a fair few quiz things online, many have been lost in bulletins on myspace, but some have survived time and now I take all the best bits from them to have a good laugh at myself.

6. Have you ever: Gone scuba diving or snorkeling:
not really, but i sort of tried snorkeling once on holiday before my fear of the sea got the better of me. it was horrid. i suddenly realised the entire sea floor was covered in massive crabs and i panicked and then a wave went down the breathing tube thing and i couldn't breath and was too scared to put my feet down cos of the crabs and i just ended up floundering and crying. me and the sea have never got on.

that actually sounds like a weird kind of metaphor for my life.

10. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
not really. used to get in wardrobes all the time for the following reasons:

1) in search of NARNIA.
2) playing this ingenious game called 'lifts.' basically in our old house in france there were these wooden wardrobes in every bedroom, once i had a established that there was no magic wood hidden in the back of them i used to play this game where i'd get in and pull the door to (not shut, i'm not silly like edmund) and then 'press a button' to get to another room with the matching wardrobe, then get out, run to the wardrobe of my next room, get in the wardrobe there and then step out again as if the 'wardrobe lift had magically transported me there. ENDLESS FUN.

HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A GOLDFISH?

NO! i used to have goldfish. my favourite was called Goldie, imaginative i know, she lived the longest out of all my fish and when she died i tried to resuscitate her with a straw.

recently found out that she did in fact die when i was on a brownie camp and my rents secretly replaced her. I WAS DISTRAUGHT.

2. i am ginger. and it's the best thing you could possibly be. unless you're stuck in the desert with no sun cream.

13. i teach chinese children, read with them and help them with new vocabulary. it's good money. and i get free tea. and sometimes free chinese (food) i used to work at c&h so i can tell you how much fabric you need for your curtains if you like. i also always look at curtains and what lining they have.(blackout is my personal fave) one of the many side-effects of a year and a half at the fun factory. i also sort of work at smart and simple hotel in t.wells but because of the economic crisis i don't get many shifts anymore. not that i'm complaining. my boss was major ross.

3) Cartwheels. I suck at cartwheels, but care as in i don't (meg). They're even more fun on damp grass actually, like early morning or evening time, when the grass is all cool under your hands. Having said that whenever the sun is shining I get the urge to cartwheel. Or at least try to. Whenever the sun is shining I also want to wear dresses, which leads to an unfortunate clash of urges, one to keep my dignity and the other, to take off my shoes, put my hands on the floor and kick my legs up in the air. Dignity nearly always loses cos I've lost most of that in my short 18 years of being alive anyway.

know what else i hate?

i hate pity
i hate it.
it is the single most useless thing on this planet.
like a prostitute without a vagina. or any other bodily cavity.
eugh.

In lapland - when we crossed the finnish finish line, after wading through a swamp to get to the road. okay just basically everything that happened in lapland - the best days of my life. cept when bellshaw ate all the cereal bars.

to be honest i don't see why arriva need to print out reams of those free tickets for the kids with thoses passes. TREES ARE BEING CUT DOWN. jeeeez. hardly pioneering environmentalists are they. soon the rainforests will be dead and then where will we all be? not on an arriva bus hopefully, although i do seem to spend half my life waiting for one.

SHOP WORKERS WRESTLE PEN FROM CRAZED TEEN THEIF IN EFFORT TO END THIS STARTIONARY CRIME WAVE.

I should become a recluse. and never have to face this cruel cruel world again. what with its imperial refusing to go metric, judging shop workers and poor grammar.

another travesty: my dad just came in and asked me when i was gonna get off the computer, why i was still on, how long i'd be etc etc and i told him i'd be longer if he moaned...

...and then he decided to tell me to shut my mouth.

THAT's not very nice.

three exams tomorrow.

and he tells me to shut my mouth.

parental support nowadays. not what it used to be.

i am a deprived child.

ahhh the life of a thespian.

Gracie: A WHAT?
Linda: a thespian.
Gracie: oh.

I, linda hunt, love you all, you and your faces.

An extract from my yr11 personal statement: I do choir within school because I’m doing music for GCSE. I’m Lady Montague in the school musical too. Apart from that I don’t do any clubs at lunchtime, probably because I prefer to keep these times free. For eating and music compositions and suchlike. I am deputy form rep this year. So maybe I can be responsible and nice. (Unlike last year when I was just nice

once upon a time they put chickens in plastic bags and gave them out as balloons in central malaysia
we can stop this by forwarding on messages

when the waves finished i left.

leaving behind the fatties
the screaming, pissing children
the glorified showers
the lukewarm tub
the perverts
the body parts hanging out of costumes
the immature adolescents
the plasters
hairballs
dirt
sweat
otherwise hideousness of the pool.
and left them all to it.

'that linda,' i said to myself ' was your social effort for this year.'

and i went back to the apartment and had a drink.

i now have a year before i feel i have to integrate myself with the masses again.

and i think i've earned it.

Imparting My Vast Knowledge On The General Public. (you)

2009-11-16T19:56:00.001Z

Things I have learnt in my short 19 years on this earth:

1. pi = 3.14159265

2. There are two types of sonnet: Shakespearian (English) and Petrarchian (Italian).

3. The opening of Beowulf literally translates as 'What!' but is often 'indeed,''what ho' and 'so,' in modern translations.

4. Scottish accents have 14 vowel phonemes. Received pronunciation has 19.

5. The first stage in the acquisition of language in children is wailing. This is followed by the protolanguage stage, which is babbling.

6. Monocular depth cues can be apprehended with one eye, binocular depth cues can only be apprehended by using both eyes.

7. Cheese comes from milk.

8. More people in the world drink goats milk over cows milk.

9. Sleeping through your alarm is not advised.

10. Running away from your feelings for someone doesn't always go exactly to plan.

11. Don't ever fall for the rebound.

12. Do not sleep with someone you are using. It messes the whole thing up.To get what you want, you can't give them what they want. See?

13. Men are easy. (But I'm not mean enough to take advantage of this fact.)(Sometimes.)

14. Always tell the truth. It avoids a whole lot of hassle.

15. I used to say I didn't give second chances. Just before my A Level exams I went against this rule and gave someone one. This was possibly the worst decision I ever made and I ended up more hurt than the first time he fucked up. So, never give second chances.

16. Never say never.

17. Don't ever defend abortion in front of me. No spin you put on it can changethe fact that it's baby killing. The only legitimate reason I can see for this monstrosity is if continuing with the pregnancy puts the mother and/or child'slives in danger. Full stop.

18. Downs syndrome is not an excuse to abort.

19. Neither is, 'I just hadn't planned on babies until I'd been married a bit longer.'If you can't deal with the responsibility of a child, be more careful.

20. Adoption isn't perfect.

21. But blood ties aren't always all they're cracked up to be.

22. There's no place like home.

23. Going to uni is massive. You suddenly have to adjust to a new town, a new room and new people. You have to cook for yourself everyday, you have toclean up after yourself everyday. You have to live without the friends andfamily you've always relied on and whilst adjusting to a whole new course ofstudy, try and make new friends. PLUS you have no money but you spend it anyway. It's mental.

24. Uni is also a whole lot of fun.

25. I came to Glasgow because the uni looked like Hogwarts, the city is incredible, the people are friendly, it's one of the best unis in the UK and theworld, I needed to get away and also because I thought that if I came thisfar people would be more likely to miss me. I didn't allow for how much I'd misseveryone else.

26. For some reason I need people to miss me.

27. I also feel that I need to earn my place in life more than other people do.

28. After a large amount of experimenting, I've found that a bizarre mix of TomWaits, The White Stripes, classic love songs (like, oh yes, Celine Dion and Whitney), Cat Stevens, Enya, Les Choristes, Babyshambles, Billie the Vision, Fleetwood Mac, Jeff Buckley and Michael Jackson are the best things to listen to before I go to bed.

29. All prayers are answered with 'yes', 'no', or 'wait'. Think about it.

30. Tea makes (almost) everything better.

31. There is an enormous difference between being a nude model and a porn star. Trust me.

32. Everything happens for a reason.

33. Sometimes you have to fuck the budget.

34. Tap twice. The second time in the head, just to make sure.

35. Always laugh at yourself.

36. You're never not drunk enough to dance. Too drunk to dance is a completely different kettle of fish. Yes, weirdo at the art school staggering around theclub and occasionally flinging your arms in the air, I'm talking to you.

37. Long distance relationships can work. As long as one of you doesn't get brainwashed into some sort of cult.

38. People should say yes to more things. But not heroin. Or third chances.

39. You can learn an awful lot from people watching.

40. Always be helpful, kind and polite, work with a smile, right into the night.

41. Be there at 12 means be there at 11:50.

42. 'I love you' is easy to say and hard to take back.

43. Men tell you what they think you want to hear if they think it will get them what they want from you. BUT they don't THINK about the consequences of doing this. I feel it is my duty to enlighten them to these 'consequences of their actions' when they do it to me.

44. Underestimating ugly women and stupid men is a mistake.

45. Don't give away pieces of your heart too easily. Right now, I've got all my pieces back together, but I think there will always be a bit left at Weald.Most likely near Ms Barrett's room, the drama studio or the music block. As gay as that sounds. I loved my school.

46. Always have a plan B.

47. Unfortunately, in the current climate, war is necessary.

48. Ignorance is bliss.

49. Always trust your instinct. Or, always trust mine. I am very rarely wrong about these things. Never ignore that bad feeling. Or you'll end up crying inspoons. Not a good situation.

50. Hakuna matata.

November

2009-11-09T18:10:00.000Z

My psychology lecture finished early so
I'm walking home. Cold air hits me as I walk outiside
and I wish I'd worn a hat. Ashton Lane is brightly lit
and the smell of 'Ketchup' reminds me I haven't eaten all day.
I wish the lane was longer. I wish I didn't have to turn
onto Byres Road with its 'Iceland' and its subway and its 'Subway'
and' Greggs.' Along the pavement where the people bustle past
and get caught in the queues for cash. I need to check my bank balance actually... They can't have taken much rent this month, I wonder, should I query this?

There's
an old man playing a fiddle, a few coins in the case
at his feet. The cracks in the pavement are hard
to see in the dark. The bears will get me. It gets dark
so early now. I wish I could hear his music all the way home.
I wish I had some change to give him.
Past 'Oran Mor', where Glasgow low prices
do not apply. Doubles are over £6. They had a vintage sale
in there yesterday. I didn't go, it cost £2.50 to get in
and there were no free drinks.

Crossing the road
I almost die, didn't see that car coming.
Taxi rank is full, brightly coloured ads
show holidays in the Carribbean, yeh right
like I'd survive in that heat, I'm ginger.
I'm walking pretty fast though, want to get back,
want to keep warm. I wish I'd worn some gloves.
I wish I'd eaten something today.
There's a man on the corner, he's not selling
bones, he's smoking and watches me go past.
I wonder what he's waiting for.

That pharmacy
I was in the other day has had its insides pulled out.
I think it's turning into a 'Boots,' or maybe
it was robbed, I saw police there yesterday.
I wish that hill wasn't coming up. I wish I could afford
some dinner from 'The Full Bhoona.'
At least I got my psychology essay in though. Now
I just have to do that English one for Thursday.
I hate Mondays. I hate that it's so dark.
I should get an early night tonight.

This hill,
it doesn't hurt so much, it's getting easier
I think, therefore I am
assuming that I must be getting used to it.
Not looking forward to the stab alley, I hope
I don't get stabbed. I need to email my Dad.
I need to email my Dad. Should I spend my birthday
money on a new tattoo? Or vintage clothes?
I wish I was more decisive. I wish I could apparate.
Can't be bothered to run for the green man,
he'll be back.

Sixty-five steps.
Sixty-five to get up to my house. Seventeen
is the worst one. It's a bit bigger than the
others. I haven't counted the ones inside up
to my flat door. There's not very many.

And
I wonder if you remembered, I
wonder if you wonder. I think
I heard a firework in the distance.
Or a gun shot. I'm in my room and it's
a right mess. Your photo's on the wall.
I need to email my Dad. I need to start that English
essay. I need to find my gloves. I need to tidy my room.
I wish you'd find me. I wish you'd look.
It's just that time of year again.

Sausages for dinner.

I COCKING LOVE...

2009-10-17T20:49:00.000+01:00

Tchi-Ovna - Glasgow.

This is honestly the best place I've ever been. Described as 'Tea Mecca' it serves chai, herbal, fuit, green, chinese, japanese... pretty much any kind of tea you want. Yogi yogi chai is AMAZE.

Add to that mismatched furniture, cute little teacups, loads of cushions, shisha, a zen area and reasonably priced veggie food like falafel and the almighty 'healthy boy special' - a sandwich with hummus, salad, cheese and sweet chili sauce and you should guess why I am intending to fritter away my entire student loan on exotic tea.

If this isn't a reason to visit me in Glasgow, I don't know what is.

OUR RECORD SHOW YOU HAVE NOT BOUGHT A TV LICENCE FOR YOUR ROOM.

2009-10-14T16:29:00.000+01:00

BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE A TV YOU MASSIVE TWATS.

I am sick to death of the tv license people constantly being on my back about my TV licence. Every single website I go to has their adverts on, the other week I was accosted by men in the street waving tv licence leaflets in my face and now to top it all off they're sending me scary looking mail that looked like some kind of bill/penalty notice that just tells me everything I know, yes, I know that if I watch live tv on my laptop that I need a licence, but, I DON'T. Why would I fork out £150 to do that when there's a tv in the central services block or when you can just watch catch up the next day, which you don't need a tv licence for, by the way.

This ridiculous letter then says that if I don't watch live tv in my room, I have to spend my credit and my precious time, calling them to say, 'oh by the way, I don't need a tv licence.' If I don't do this, they're threatening to send enforcement officers to my flat to check up on me. FUCK OFF.

What is this?! Do I need to call Tesco every time I look in the fridge and see that, no, I don't need to buy any milk, thank you? Should I be calling Comet right now and telling them that I am managing fine without a dishwasher so I won't be purchasing one off them?

Stupid, cocking tv licence idiots threatening me, funnily enough, I don't feel inclined to buy anything from you, no.

Welcome to the 21st century you dicks, students don't watch tv anymore, apart from on a Saturday/Sunday evening when they go to the common room (which has its very own tv licence) to watch X Factor. The rest of the time, we're drinking or working. Leave us alone.

And all this 'Big Brother,' shite isn't washing with me, sending me stuff saying:

'we know you're a student, we know for you, the laptop is the new tv, we know the location of every unlicensed room in UK halls...we know that students in England receive an average of around 14hrs tuition a week.'

Well fuck you, I'm not a student in England, I'm in Scotland and I have three subjects worth of work to get through and therefore do not have the time, let alone the money to sit and watch 'Loose Women,' live on my laptop.

I hope they send those enforcement officers round to me, I'll fucking slice them.

Dickhead Wearing Shorts.

2009-10-08T00:09:00.000+01:00

I wrote a song about the dickhead who wears shorts.
Sing it to the tune of 'I Am The Music Man'

I am a massive dickhead
And I am wearing shorts,
Even though it's raining
And it's October
I'm wearing shorts...

Dickhead, dickhead wearing shorts, wearing shorts, wearing shorts
Dickhead, dickhead wearing shorts, wearing, wearing shorts.

I don't listen in lectures
Cos I think I'm too cool
But I'm a dickhead
Who boasts about it
And I wear shorts...

Dickhead, dickhead wearing shorts, wearing shorts, wearing shorts
Dickhead, dickhead wearing shorts, wearing, wearing shorts.

I make annoying comments
And never wear trousers
Cos I'm a dickhead
A MASSIVE DICKHEAD
WITH DICKHEAD SHORTS.

DICKHEAD, DICKHEAD WEARING SHORTS, WEARING SHORRTS, WEARING SHORTS
DICKHEAD, DICKHEAD WEARING SHORTS, WEARING, WEARING SHORTS.

I sing this whenever I see the dickhead wearing shorts, usually in my head but sometimes I get carried away and start bobbing up and down to the tune and singing bits out loud.

I don't care.

He's a dickhead.

(wearing shorts)

fuck this shit, i'm going to marks and spencer.

2009-10-08T00:08:00.001+01:00

so i'm joining the army.

yep, officially, as long as they don't find that i have some previously undetectable condition that prevents me from joining up. that must be why i have to strip down to my underwear and have my boobs prodded by a strange man. just to make sure.

then hopefully this bitch of a chest infection won't affect my run too much and i can attest! i am so excited about attesting, i have to put my hand on the bible and swear allegiance to the Queen and all her successors.

then i'll get my tam o'shanter, kilt, combats, more boots and i'll be away.

don't worry, i'm joining a type b ta unit - we can't get called up.

i had to do a selection weekend this weeked, which meant getting up at 7:00 on saturday and sunday. the training wasn't tough, but i was so weak and ill and tired and homesick that by the time it came to walking home i'd forgotten about all the nice new people i'd met and how great it was to see a picture of the Queen on the wall and how comforting the army is and how it made me feel like i was back home when i heard 'don't lean on the walls they've been there longer than you/ the only time in the British Army is 1-23-1/ i'm not a sir, i work for a living/ listen in/ got a good joke?/ any questions? no sir' and so on and so forth.

on the way home it felt like every step was making me weaker and i was bent double (like old beggars under sacks) no, just bent with the pain and even old ladies were over taking me and i looked around and hated me life, cos right then everything just seemed so cocking CRAP.

like glasgow gale force wind, scottish bank notes without the Queen, no mummy and daddy to make you dinner, no-one to give you a hug, same beggars in the same places on your walk home, same old woman playing the mouth organ and begging for change between breaths, the same GLASGAE accent coming from all directions, knowing the kithcen will be a mess when you get in, knowing that your flatmates will have used your plates without asking and not washed them up, coughing your guts out (chest infection) so everyone stares at you like you have swine flu, pain in your chest from muscle spasms from coughing/whiting, everytime you breath, having 1.5 miles to walk uphill to get 'home' and in lectures no-one sits next to you and weirdos take your paper and other weirdos sit three seats away and then turn and stare at you and other weirdos give you funny looks when you make notes and look interested and that dickhead wearing shorts is in all your lectures with his dickheadness and his shorts.

it was one of those days

so i thought

fuck this shit

i'm going to marks and spencer.

and i cocking well did, cocking went and spend a fortune on a posh ready-meal for my cocking dinner and everything.

BUT I COCKING DESERVED IT.

I COCKING LOVE...

2009-10-01T21:50:00.000+01:00

enya - watermark

this used to be the album my rents played to me as a baby to send me to sleep.
i recently dug it out and it's still the best thing ever to calm me down :)

plus they used to play one of the tracks as entrance music at my primary school so it takes me back to a time when all i had to worry about were pikeys stealing my plimpsols.

what i hate about uni...

2009-09-30T21:34:00.000+01:00

owh. i do miss weald <3

okay so I know it's only the second week of lectures and yes, I wasn't in the first week of lectures (thank you mr chest infection)

but are we all so pathetic that we have to do that thing where you leave a seat between you and the person next to you in lectures? it's so annoying. in the introductory enrolment sessions the lecturers encouraged us to move along so that there were no seats between us and to talk to the person next to us. but that doesn't seem to happen anymore. plus, due to the fact that I missed the first week of lectures, seminars, turorials, orgies, lab workshops, clubs, highland fling gatherings, I don't know ANYONE in my lectures. no-one. zip. zilch. zero.

what is even with that saying? zip. zilch. zero. eugh. sounds painfully american.

ANYWAY. today in my english literature lecture I went and sat right next to some boy, who didn't look cocky, annoying, weird. I noticed that he had left a seat between himself and the girl on the other side and when I didn't do this, he looked at me like I was a psycho. Loser. he should be grateful to have someone as interesting as me sitting next to him. He looked pretty boring if I'm honest, but it was either sit next to him or sit next to the girl who has clearly tried way too hard to look cool for her lectures and just looks like a FOOL. She looked annoying too. And she eyed my wooolly jumper with a less than appreciative stare. THINKS she's fashionable but really, ISN'T.

Then, in my Psychology lecture I was one of the first in (keen, that's me) so I went and sat in the middle of an empty row. Then this boy followed me and sat down, one seat away. The girl that followed him also sat one seat away. I was like 'OH COME ON!' well, not out loud obv. It looked ridiculous, but then, the girl was asked to move up to let some more people in. So everyone else was sitting next to one another. But the cocky looking male nearest to me still didn't move up. Then, to make matters worse a massive group of friends filed in the other end of the row. Again. One seat was left. As they were all friends they all sat next to each other, which left me slap bang in the middle of the row with one seat left either side. I looked like a complete loner. It was FUN TIMES. I don't care anyway. I'm a one man army. YEH. :(

I also seem to spend my time waiting outside lectures watching all the other students arrive and judging them: ugly, loser, show-off, bitch, dickhead, normal etc etc (I'm a massive bitch deep down)

One guy arrived today whilst I was sitting in the waiting area for my Lit lecture and I immediately thought 'dickhead' from the way he waltzed in. Then he sat in one of the chairs near me. This was a mistake. It was a mistake for two reasons, the first being that I thought he was a dickhead, the second being that I was wearing a massive woolly jumper, jeans and a thick coat. He was only wearing shorts and t-shirt. What an idiot. It was raining and cold and he made me look over-dressed. Then he proceeded to boast about how, in English lang lectures he just sits with his ipod on. What a douche. We don't have to go to lectures, no-one notices if you're not there as I discovered last week. So what's the point of him going if he's just going to listen to music? It's no school. It's not Creaky. It's not necessary. Then he sat behind me in the lecture and kept banging on the table, moaning that it was boring and refusing to participate in the group poetry reading. I thought the lecture was interesting and the lecturer was really nice, but this dick had to keep making clever comments.

Don't get me wrong, uni's fun, but that's what I hate so far. Oh, and the fact that I've been so ill I can't go out, but my flatmates still do and they lost their keys so they insist on ringing the door buzzer at 4am when they return. It would appear they're hosting a kitchen party now with the boys who call me 'Florence.'

Apparently I look like Florence, but not the machine.

if i could be anywhere in the world right now...

2009-09-28T21:35:00.000+01:00

511 days ago - the utter grotesqueness that is a public swimming pool.

2009-05-27T19:11:00.000+01:00


	the public swimming pool - a damp, humid environment filled with the screams of small children and shouting grown ups, occasionally pierced by the life guard's whistle. upon arrival at said location one could be excused for thinking that it looks like fun: jets of water spraying out at you, an enormous, twisting flume, wave machines, jacuzzis etc etc etc. but look closer my friends and you'll begin understand why i hate these public gatherings of nearly naked people all crammed into one large expanse of too blue water. first you have the changing rooms, a small, cramped cubicle in which you can never be sure if that so called lock on the door is going to hold it shut. all over the floor are bits of dirt and hairs floating in small puddles of water where people have walked in in their shoes. then removed them and stood in the crap left on the floor in this hell hole you carefully undress and put on the swimming costume. which brings me to my next point. the swimming costume. just a slightly more water resilient form of underwear which fat middle aged woman seem to think makes them look young again if they try to squeeze into that tiny bikini (which fit about 10yrs) ago henceforth subjecting the rest of us to the unseemly sight of stomachs hanging over bikini bottoms, pubic hairs poking out from the sides and the tiny bikini top doing pretty much nothing in the way of covering up or supporting their sagging boobs then there's the men, great guts again hanging over the top of skimpy speedos, in fact at the pool at which i made these particular observations a bloke walked past with his penis hanging out the side of his speedos. i'm not quite sure whether this was deliberate or not. i masked any form of emotion on my face and hurried off. then you get to the pool, where pretty soon you realise that those exciting looking jets are no more than a glorified shower and the jacuzzi is just a lukewarm tub with a few lazy looking bubbles popping up here and there. so you decide to head for the main pool, handily split into two loactions: the deep end, and the shallow end. the shallow end: full of screaming children pissing themselves everywhere the deep end: full of their fat parents, launching themselves from one end to the another in a desperate attempt to lose those stubborn seven pounds. it's quite revolting. and in the corners, used plasters, fingernails, scabs and hairballs gather in an accumulation of repulsiveness, bobbing up and down, even more fervently when, every half hour, the bell rings and the dreaded wave machine is turned on. finally the flume. i myself have had some pretty bad experiences with flumes, the first time i went on one i nearly drowned as i was 4yrs old, couldn't swim, wasn't wearing armbands and so when plunged at 100mph into the deep landing pool i was relying on my dad to pull me out. he had a momentary relapse of memory however so i was underwater for quite a while. good times. and then there's the idiotic adolescent boys who try to enhance their time in the flume by making it last as long as possible, i.e wedging themselves halfway down, therefore rendering the traffic light system at the top utterly futile as the next person, usually me, sees the green light, wonders why the hell she is launching herself into a black hole of rushing water (the mind boggles) and sets off. 20secs later there i am, wedged next to said adolescent male in the afore mentioned black abyss of rushing water. to make matters worse his mates follow, so there was are, six of us all crammed into a corner of this wretched flume. the boys are also french. to make matters worse. finally we shoot off , landing in a heap of bodies at the end. i dust myself off and leave. this happened to me last year, so this year i avoided the flume. and even worse than the flume is those ones in which you're in a great big bowl with a hole in the button and you feel like a coin in one of those charity boxes, spiraling towards the hole. this terrifies me. plus i always fall through backwards. eugh. as you may have guessed, i'm not a big fan of these 'aquadomes.' they sicken me. add to that my hatred of water and well, it's not a happy combination. so when on holiday this week, the family decided to make the most of the 'aquadome' at the place we were staying, i was not the most enthusiastic of parties. still, i came along. the utter grotesqueness that is the public swimming pool fascinates me in a disgusting sort of way. upon arrival we were greeted by the bell signalling the wave machine. great. i watch in my disgusted fascination as the masses all try to squeeze into this one tiny channel, where presumably the waves are stronger. the waves begin. at this point i realise that at this pool it is less of a wave machine, more of a tsunami generator. my sister nearly had an athsma attack. but i braved it, kept my head almost above water and my mascara didn't run and the bikini stayed put. and then dear readers, upon observation of the masses in that one tiny channel, curiosity got the better of me. in a moment of blind madness when the bell rung for the next set of waves i too made my way to the channel with the masses. the waves begun again. there were a few mothers and children in the same section smiling blankly and going 'ooo' and 'ahhh' as the first few waves went past. then they got stronger. much stronger. in this particular channel the already rather large waves become concentrated and with all the people crammed in there, they turn into a towering mass of bodies and foam. the mothers and children force their way out, children screaming. i stayed put, held onto the rope and braced myself. WHY? i don't know. maybe for you, for an interesting blog, maybe just to say i did it. but i started so i was gonna finish (if i didn't drown) when the wave hits, you're sort of forced under, crushed under about ten other bodies pressing down on you, crashing into the person in front, lurching forward, almost wrenching your arms out of their sockets as you try to hold onto the rope. you force your way to the surface, regain you position and brace yourself again. this lasted about 10-15mins, no joke, the longest wave machine ever. by the end i was the only girl left in there. surprisingly my bikini survived. well, i had to keep checking, half my brain was concentrating on not dying, the other half on not losing my costume. i came close, but i maintained my dignity. when the waves finished i left. leaving behind the fatties the screaming, pissing children the glorified showers the lukewarm tub the perverts the body parts hanging out of costumes the immature adolescents the plasters hairballs dirt sweat otherwise hideousness of the pool. and left them all to it. 'that linda,' i said to myself ' was your social effort for this year.' and i went back to the apartment and had a drink. i now have a year before i feel i have to integrate myself with the masses again. and i think i've earned it.

376 days ago - moths.

2009-05-27T19:07:00.000+01:00

right. bloodyfuckinguselesspointless moths.

poor, ugly, crappy imitations of butterflies that just flap everywhere, all in your face in your hair, never taking any notice of the fact that your desperately waving them away with both arms.

so last night, a bloody moth decide to infiltrate my bedroom. now moths only live for one thing light, i should know, i played one in a play once in which i (and the rest of the cast) dressed in white, ran into a column of light centre stage and died, all piling up on top of one another, whispering 'into it, into it ,into it' and then a tramp cried cos we were all dead.

it was called the insect play alright. go look it up.

it was a beautiful moment.

ANYWAY so this effing moth is going for the flight, flapping about not nearly as elegantly as my fellow thespians and myself had done.

i was like, alright mate, you're there, it;s a light, just calm down.

did it calm down? no. it bloody well didn't. sorry to say, i had to end its ecstasy and turn the light off.

at which point it goes mental, crashing into the wall and diving at my head, all i could hear was it flapping and crashing and generally being annoying.

why the hell did it insist on trying to crash ito my head? maybe it's cos i'm ginger and my head provides some sort of radiant light for it, yes. ha bloody ha.

picture the scene, it's pitch black, i'm bloody knackered and this moth is just dive-bombing me over and over again, i'm sitting up in bed waving my arms around like a loon with odd socks on. i can't see the fucking thing, all i can hear are it's bloody wings.

maybe it was trying to eat my clothes? BASTARD.

why the fuck are moths even nocturnal if they're so obsessed with light? try coming out a bit earlier mate, you'd have a field day.

in the end i left it, opened my door a bit and prayed he'd fly out.
i had to hide under the duvet though to stop him flying at me, eugh, imagine if he landed in my mouth.

ruined my fucking night that moth did.
wikipedia says that moths are eaten by bats, owls, lizards, cats and rodents.

i'll just get a lizard then.

oo oo better idea

http://www.pestcontrolshop.co.uk/aca...

helllll yeh
what's the most inhumane way of killing these bitches, i want them to buuuuuuuurn.

FLYING INSECT KILLERS FROM £14.99
Flying insect killers are a great way of killing moths that fly in through open windows and doors and then dive-bomb you when you are trying to get to sleep!

THAT SOUNDS GREAT.

Hello.

2009-05-27T18:57:00.000+01:00

I'm Linda. I'm 18. I am also ginger: See? This is me:

I should probably be revising for my A-Levels but instead I thought I'd start a new blog.

A blog is a very good idea for someone like me with an overactive imagination that my mouth cannot quite keep up with most of the time. I find that it is also very good if you need a rant. I rant a lot.

I should probably say now that if you haven't read any of my other blogs then you should familiarise yourself with the fact that a lot of the time I write with the persona of a snob and everything I write should be taken with a pinch of salt. To get started I'm gonna post a few old blogs from other sites. Ok? Ok. Then you can get an idea of how I roll.

Oh dear. I have just discovered that the spell checker on here is American. Great.