Women's Equality Day

So today is Women's Equality Day which means I can find joy in scrolling through the hashtag to find numerous feminist tweets. One's that make me think 'hell yeah you go girl, you fight for those rights'. Basically the type I love.

Because to quote my all time fave film (Titanic if you didn't know) 'Of course it's unfair. We're women. Our choices are never easy' which hits the nail on the head (obviously by a man because women doing DIY and using tools is one big NO.)

Unfortunately this trend has also been taken over by meninists or (less radically) people who do not see inequality (as every other female empowerment trend always is because why should women get to speak, am I right?)

I have to thank these tweets in a way, they help me feel a lot better at myself as I know that I'm not an arrogant fool who literally cannot see inequality even when staring you in the face (maybe you should go to Specsavers love.)

And of course there are many types of anti-feminist. There's the people who don't understand feminism and therefore don't support it (understandable but if you read up on it you're likely to agree so you should do it). Then there's people who see inequality but as a fact of life and not a problem which needs (urgently) addressing. There's people who don't see inequality and just want all these angry feminists (who are obviously on their period) to shut up (um mate maybe you'd be angry too if your gender was being constantly oversexualised and deemed to be weak and made fun of and highly domesticated on too many occasions). There's people who think that all feminists are 'butch lesbians' (we are not). There's also (and these are my favourite) people who think that women and men can't be equal because of the biological difference (sorry but that is just bullshit).

Out of the what-do-you-mean-you-want-equality tweets I've seen today, one of my faves has to be the one describing being female as 'boob privilege'. Now, clearly you don't have boobs because, if you did, you'd probably agree, it isn't really a privilege. Yeah boobs are great and all but they are super, super annoying and bras are super, super uncomfy. And, it wouldn't be 'boob' privilege even if it did exist, it would be 'big boob' or 'average sized with lots of assistance of a push up bra' privilege because that seems to be all guys ever want (in terms of boob size.)

And all these little extras and freebees that females get are totally within the capabilities of us women who receive them. It's not my fault that we are oversexualised and, because of that men think they can do things which claims ownership of us like buying us a drink (which is not an invitation to bed I'm afraid). If I could stop the sexualisation of women I would in a heartbeat, it's not nice to be harassed in the street because I made the time to look pretty (for myself) today (which you can read about here). But I can't. Why? Because I'm not the one sexualising women.

But this is a problem. Despite the feminist fight which ignites inside of me when I see these anti-feminist tweets, there is a huge problem.

There are women in the world being forced into marriage (often as children). Women being raped by boys who are 'just being boys'. There are women who are sexually harassed in the work place. There are women who are forced to raise children they don't want as single parents because abortion is not legal in their country. There are women who are scrutinised in the media because they didn't wear a bra (c'mon ladies #FreeTheNipple is where it's at) or because their swimsuit was revealing which, unless it's not covering the vagina or nipples (which is the whole point of a swimsuit as it should be as minimal as possible because then you get less awkward tan lines) then how is it revealing? Breaking news: woman has thighs and stomach and boobs which aren't completely covered by a bikini. I'm sorry to scare you like that, I bet that has come as a huge shock to you all.

So when you look at all these issues (and more, which you can find a list of on one of my favourite websites http://everydayfeminism.com/2016/02/160-examples-of-male-privilege/)  how can you have the guts to tell me inequality doesn't exist? And is that what you're really saying, or are you in fact saying 'yes I can see these issues but they just aren't important enough to accept' because, if you are, you are trash.

So I'm going to celebrate being a woman today and I'm also going to celebrate every other day that I walk this planet. Because female inequality is real and it is happening now. So I'm going to fight for the equality I deserve because, in the words of Rachel Platten's 2015 hit 'I've still got a lot of fight left in me'.

--- Aimee ---

Results Day

This morning I woke up to the typical 'good morning' text from Jack feeling anxious and rough. I hadn't been drinking, I had another reason to feel rough; I had slept awful. Why? Because today was results day and my body wanted me too know that, waking me up at 1am and again at 5.

7:40 was way too early for my body to even think about getting up but I forced myself to. I needed to get into school both for my own results but also to be supportive for my friends.

I was going to write this blog post but I didn't in fear of jinxing myself for the big day (that just sounds like I'm getting married; I'm not). But it would have made little difference, I got the results I was expecting which eased the sharp pain of disappointed I could have felt.

Thankfully I wasn't alone so I was able to laugh about the fact I got a U on one (of the two) exams I did. It didn't bother me, not anywhere near as much as it should have but I think it's better that way.

It's not because I was happy with getting a U. Of course I was annoyed (and can I just point out that I got a D in the subject overall so, actually, it wasn't that bad.) But yesterday I made myself adopt a positive attitude towards receiving my results. Worse case scenario I would have to retake two exams (shout out to English Lit for not being split into AS and A Level).

Two exams isn't the end of the world. If I had to resit two exams the world would still keep spinning, people would still die, it wouldn't really matter.

I think I needed this, to put a perspective on life (woah that sounds deep) to ensure my own sanity when I opened that dreaded envelope.

Despite the D that stood out on my results sheet (is that what it's called? I have no idea) there was another result which probably assisted my lack of worry. That result was a miraculous A which I was over the moon with. I'm still in shock that I could get an A (like seriously, cut the joke now, A's are not my thing.)

I've been on such a high all day (a personal pride high is legal don't worry). And it's (oddly) made me really excited for Year 13 and University (pft what a nutter). I'm just so extremely happy that sometimes hard work really pays off. I was so nervous of expecting an A (it seemed pretty ambitious despite how confident I felt with the subject) in fear that I would get nothing more than a C.

I think the most important thing that today has taught me is that believing in myself can be a worrying thing but that maybe I'm not always as awful at things as I first assume. And maybe that's just about the best lesson I could ever teach myself.

--- Aimee ---

Girl Groups

Growing up every teen chick flick seemed to revolve around one thing; girl groups. Ok yes, relationships and crushes often came in at a close second but were rarely present without this overpowering theme.

I was painted this picture that high school (well, secondary school) would be a magical time. That I would be bombarded with an overwhelming number of parties and social meet ups. Most of all, I was under the impression that these events would take place as the result of being part of a girl populated friendship group.

In high school (I won't bother correcting again) you meet friends, form your group and, bam, those are your friends. And then, on your journey to adulthood, you ditch a few but, ultimately, you keep the same friends.

And this probably isn't far from the truth. Timeless stories from my mum or dad shows that some friends are for life (not just for Christmas). Maybe, sometimes friendships do stand the test of time (wow apparently I've turned into a middle aged woman).

It's impossible to walk down the corridor at school without seeing a gaggle of girls (if girls had a collective noun I'm pretty sure it would be gaggle) huddled together (probably gossiping about the latest crush of the group).

Is it me? Am I the type of person that wants this. Someone who wants what 80% of girls at high school want. Does anyone actually want it or does their life just dump them there? I don't have the answer to how it happens or how it happens to the majority but leaves some of us stranded. Maybe we just don't fit in and we just have to search harder for the place in which we do fit.

I have only ever been part of two groups in my life and neither were female only. (I guess female only groups is usually a requirement and not a preference.) I think it's better that way. I'm all for girl power and the alike but girl groups leave me with one word; drama. Too much of it. I would rather lead my simple life with people who don't create or involved themselves in drama (relationship or otherwise.)

But my life hasn't been bad because of it. Maybe I have missed out on a conventional teenage girl sort of life but I'm still enjoying life in spite of that. It's not all that (here we are again with the middle aged woman quotes), having a group of girls to share your life with.

I think it's since the 'girls' and 'lads' holidays that I've paid more attention to this. It's made me wonder how I'm going to feel next year when its 'my' turn. Unless some kind of miracle happens I won't be partaking on one of these (and that doesn't bother me much at all). But (I think) I'm ok with that, with just living my life without meeting any sort of requirements or standards.

Perhaps I'm just bitter. Bitter like the person who hates doing the 100m sprint because they can never win and if they can never win then what is the point (unintentional reference to the Olympics.) Or perhaps I feel like an outsider because life hasn't been quite how I expected it. Or maybe I don't see the appeal because it has never personally affected me. After all, you can't miss something which you never had to begin with.

--- Aimee ---

Books Against Films

Books and films. Two things I love. The majority of people would be delighted to combine two things they loved but I can not share this delight for there are always issues. When you are so overwhelmed by a book you notice every tiny detail that the film misses out, usually leaving me with a sense of disappointment and thinking 'well that would have been a good film if I hadn't previously read the book'. That's all films based on books are usually, disappointments (with few expectations such as The Hunger Games Trilogy, they were outstanding).

I felt this disappointment yesterday when watching The Kite Runner. Having read the book whilst on holiday last week I was sceptic to whether it would be able to do Khaled Hosseini's masterpiece justice. It did not.

The disappointment began with the opening scene (one of the final chapters of the book) where the director had (for some strange reason) decided to split up the phone call from Rahim Khan to Amir and their later reunion by including the entirety of the storyline between these two scenes. This is where I began to doubt the film, it didn't seem to quite work as the relationship between Rahim and Amir had not been established (unless you had prior knowledge by having read the book.)

The second major issue I had (ignoring the fact that I had to watch the entire film in subtitles as it was spoken in Afghan which proved to be more effort than I was prepared to put in to watching a film) was that the film should have, without a doubt, have been narrated by the main character (Amir) as the book is written from his perspective. This problem with not including narration meant that key lines were missed as they did not feature in the book as speech, missing key moments and lacking inner thoughts, ruining the emotional effect of the book.

I highly recommend reading the book, it is a true masterpiece with focuses on some major issues such as war, rape, self harm and infertility. Unfortunately, the film failed to leave me the same overwhelming sensation that the book did due to missing out of some key areas addressed in the book. Self harm and infertility were given no mention in the film. (Infertility may have been hinted at but if it was I for one was unaware of it). However, themes such as death, punishment and regret were still strongly apparent in the film, much to my relief.

Other than these issues neglected by the film, there were many, many more inaccuracies.

The film showed very, very few scenes focusing on the friendship between Amir and Hassan, leaving an empty hole where the happiness of their friendship should be for the audience. The lack of focus that this was given severely impacted the film for me as many revelations nearing the end of the book were not foreseen in the film as they are in the book. Disregarding the importance of their friendship also disregards Hassan's inability to read (although I guess its assumed) and Amir's passion for writing;  proven only by the journal given to him by Rahim Khan for his birthday.

The book describes Hassan as having a cleft lip which is fixed by the operation Baba pays for as a birthday gift to Hassan which (spoilers) is found to be relevant later as it is discovered that Hassan is in fact Baba's son too (and not just the servant that he is viewed as.) The film neglects this issue that Hassan although this is perhaps understandable if taking into account the difficulty this would case to recreate. But, this is aa key moment in the film as, not only does it bring Hassan great happiness, it shows the dedication and love which Baba has for him.

Whilst in America following the fleeing of Afghanistan, Baba gets ill. The film only briefly touches on this with a hospital appointment one scene and then his funeral a few scenes later. The illness is never actually mentioned in the film whereas the book discusses it to be cancer (of which type I cannot remember.)

Then there is the inaccuracy in the infertility of Amir and his wife, Soraya which is never at all mentioned in the film. The book dedicates a few pages to this issue, enough to see the pain which has been inflicted by it. The couple do not have children in the film version but it is never stated that they cannot conceive and that this is the reason for being childless.

The revelation that Hassan was killed by the Taliban was bluntly put in the film in the line 'Hassan's dead' whereas the book took a more descriptive (and nicer) approach by describing the events leading up to this as well as the events which occurred afterwards.

Furthermore (yes the list continues), following Amir's journey to find Hassan's orphaned son Sohrab, Sohrab receives no introduction on who Amir is (poor kid). Sohrab then defended Amir by attacking Assef (you really need to read the book because you're likely to be very confused by now). Why would the kid defend someone when they had no idea who they were? And, during the scrap between Amir and Assef (and Sohrab I guess), the book shows Assef telling his guards not to enter the room and whoever walks out alive has won but there is no reference to this in the film, leading to the question of why did the guards stay out of the room the entire time when they were not instructed to? This also led to Amir being chased after (a pathetic chase of about 10 seconds) which should not have taken place as Amir won the fight fair and square (with the assistance of Sohrab).

The picture given to Amir in the letter he received from Hassan (although it was given to him by Rahim Kahn) contained a picture of (in the book) Sohrab and his mother and father. The film however only included a picture of Sohrab and his father, defeating the point that, when Sohrab says he is forgetting the appearance of his parents, Amir is able to show his the picture he has. (But, it's okay because they missed out that part of dialog in the film.)

Following the disappearance of Sohrab under the supervision of Amir, Amir visits the church (or it might be a mosque, I'm not sure) to find him. Amir heads this way due to Sohrab showing interest in it when they drove past, a scene excluded from the film, posing the question of how did Amir know where he would be?

The self harm which occurs and is the beginning of Sohrab's downfall is missed from the film. A significant event which causes friction between Sohrab and Amir which, according to the film, does not even take place. The troubles present both before and after the self harm (or possible suicide attempt) surrounding Sohrab being applicable for a Visa is also completely neglected. Sohrab (in the film) is able to get into America with no difficulties, a complete ignorance of the challenge Amir faces in the book to successfully get Sohrab into America. The mix of the struggle for a Visa and the suicide attempt (I really can't decide whether it fits more with suicide or self harm) complete the struggles for Sohrab and give reason to his negative views on life and subsequent attitude. This negative attitude is only implied in the film through the lack of communication with Amir and Soraya.

In the future I might continue my belief that I stuck to with The Longest Ride; don't watch the film if you've read the book, it will only disappoint.

--- Aimee ---

My Happy Place

It's one of those poplar questions to be asked; 'where is your happy place?' Upon being asked this many people would surely struggle to find an immediate answer. How many people really know where they are truly happy?

I've given two answers to this question (well two aloud anyway). One being my gran's house and the other (in later years) being the cancer research shop. I guess it's quite sad, having a shop as your happy place but it's such a cute shop and it makes me feel like I'm doing good in the world. Surely no charity shop purchase can be seen as a bad buy?

Not the usual answers I suppose although I'm not entirely sure what a 'usual' answer would be. I suppose it would be a park or a city; somewhere with many memories attached to it. Happy memories likely to span many years. The truth is I probably do have places like this just not any that immediately come to mind (well done for the awful memory Aimee). 

These were the answers I would have given if I had been asked this prior to a few weeks ago because, a few weeks ago I realised I had been wrong. I realised that my happy place wasn't a house or a shop, it was a room, my bedroom.

Sad as it may be it is the place I am happy. In my own company in a familiar place. Plus, what's not to love? I am surrounded by a lifetime of presents, purchases and pictures. I can sit and observe all the aspects of my room that I love and which bring me happiness, as described in more detail here (ooo a hyperlink, how fancy). After all, how can you not love the place that is the best portrayal of who you are that exists?

Without sounding too much like a loner with no friends (which is hard to do when that's pretty much what I am), I do enjoy my own company and the freedom to do whatever I want. The absolute bliss of being able to watch a film, read a book or blog without having to leave my room is something I treasure.

It's not always being alone that makes me happy. I love meeting people (in my room) or calling people (in my room). No, in all honesty I do like going out and actually doing things in my life but, at the end of the day all I really want is to crawl back into my bed and watch an episode of Gogglebox for the 15th time (I wish I was exaggerating).

It would be silly to say my room (or more importantly my bed) is the only thing that makes me happy. The list isn't that simple. Who could say a walk in the country or on the beach isn't one of the most relaxing and fulfilling past times which allows so much happiness to be felt? A sense of relief and a carefree nature. But of course there is no happiness quite like being in the comfort and security of Jack's arms at the end of a bad day (#cringe).

I guess it doesn't matter really, where your happy place is, as long as you know where it is so, at the end of a long, stressful day, you can crawl (not literally or you will resemble the mental state of the female in 'The Yellow Wallpaper') and be happy.

--- Aimee ---