Truck Festival (Take 4)

Nearing the end of festival season in the UK, it is probably about time I got round to posting my annual Truck Festival piece.

2018 marked my fourth year attending the Oxford based festival and once again, the weekend was brilliant as ever. If you happen to have read my reflection of Truck Festival 2017 you'll be happy to hear that this year held a lot fewer disasters, and a lot less rain.

Meeting no traffic or queuing upon reaching the festival site, we were in the campsite with our tent pitched by 11 am and, with three hours until the first act that myself and Katherine wished to see was on, there seemed to be only one solution; start drinking.

And the drinking continued all weekend (within limits of course). At times, it appeared all day drinking would be my only solution for my severe tiredness and lack of energy which dancing and lack of sleep had presented me with.

Despite weather worries in the weeks beforehand that this might be the first rainy weekend in what feels like months here in the UK. Thankfully it was only Friday that we saw any rain - even if it was the heaviest downpour I've seen in a while. The rest of the weekend was a scorcher making the number one phrase of the weekend 'it's too hot'. Because it was too hot; too hot to sleep, too hot to sit outside, too hot to stay in the tent, too hot not to exclaim that it was just too hot.

Music wise, prior to doing my own background research following the line up announcement, I had no idea about many of the bands who were due to perform. There would be no Neck Deep, no Creeper, no Slaves - no bands who I have previously been a big fan of. However, the music did not disappoint as I was met by the likes of George Ezra, The Courteeners, The Night Cafe, Nervus, The Amazons, Everything Everything, Tom Walker and The Magic Gang; all of whom performed wonderful sets across the weekend.

There was great food again this year; the return of the Veggie and Vegan van, a noodle bar, a breakfast bar - all helping me to function through the alcohol related and sleep deprived tiredness which clung to me the entire weekend.

I may have burnt on day one and I may have been uncomfortably hot the whole weekend but I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. See you next July Truck.

--- Aimee ---

A Perspective on Perspiration

Growing up with sport at the heart of my family - both myself and my brother were named after sportsperson's - I believe I was always destined to find enjoyment in at least one sport. Fortunately for my family, I didn't stop at one. In eighteen years I found myself taking part in a variety of activities including gymnastics, dance, trampolining, hockey, rounders, badminton and netball.

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In spite of the revolutionary 'This Girl Can' and '#LikeAGirl' campaigns, it appears there is still some overarching stigmas around female participation in sport. This became clear to me while browsing New Look's sale online a few months back, only to come across an item of sportswear carrying the slogan 'I don't sweat I sparkle!'

Okay, I dislike sweat as much as the next person but come on, are you really going to deny that physical activity doesn't make you sweat? Of course it isn't the most pleasant thing in existence but it happens, it happens to us all.

It really is no wonder girls - particularly of secondary school age - fear how they might be seen if not looking their best 24/7 and that, of course, means not participating in sport, not showing their abilities and not exercising as they should.

Just recently in the PyeongChang 2018 Winter Olympics, snowboarder Chloe Kim was reported to have 'worked so hard on [her] eyeliner', begging the question as to why females even consider - or feel as though they should consider - applying makeup before taking part in sport. Sport isn't supposed to be about looks, it is supposed to be about ability.

It wouldn't be revolutionary of me to say that society is far too focused on the beauty expectations of women, that is a fact that we already know. But, why must looks even be a factor when it comes to sport? Sport is for you, for your own gain; whether that's winning a match or gaining fitness.

If I don't sweat during a period of exercise I worry. I want to sweat. I want to feel the gain of exercise and to feel good that I am achieving something. But sweating doesn't just come with exercise, it comes with everyday activities making the concept of sweat being gross even more bizarre considering most of us do it most of the time.

In 2018 can we please stop acting like women shouldn't sweat. We do sweat; a lot. Our boobs sweat, our butts sweat, our legs sweat, our faces sweat.

If you want us all to be these absolute goddesses with flat stomachs and toned bodies due to intense gym workouts, I'm sorry to burst your bubble but there will be a lot of sweat involved.

--- Aimee ---

A New Start

With my first semester at university having reached completion last month, now seems a good a time as any to reflect on the wild ride of the short first three months at university.

Well, I say a wild ride but there was very little of my experience that I would personally categorise as 'wild'. So maybe instead I should say that I am about to reflect on the largely tame ride of my university experience.

My tame uni ride began on September 16th when I moved 100 miles across the country to begin a new life with complete strangers. Strangers who soon became my close friends even if our first encounter was perhaps not the best introduction.

So many people around me told me how much they loved and missed home and I really wanted to relate but I found that, for me, being away from home was the best thing I could've done. Adopting an adult form of independence I managed to develop new skills (cooking risotto is a skill right?), make friends and be a different person.

No one at uni needed to know my past (although it probably took me a whole two drinks to tell them all anyway) and I was free to be me, even if I hadn't quite figured out who exactly that was yet.

And I won't lie and say that uni has so far changed my life drastically but little by little it's getting there. I'm being the better me that I've wanted to be for a while and it's given me the clean slate I needed to try new things.

My biggest learning curve since leaving my small town to start university has nothing to do with being homesick or missing my beloved dtap (yes, I really do love that place). Instead, the best lesson I have learnt is that the world is full of a lot of very different people (and some of them are really old - like how am I one of the few 18 year olds I know at uni, this wasn't how it was supposed to be.)


I know that everyone says the best part of uni is the friends you make (or the nightlife. I mean what? who said that?) but it really, truly is. I've had a blast being the best (and worst) version of me and apparently people like me so I must be doing something right.

I've found the most supportive people who enjoy my writing (or so they tell me) and it has helped me, even in the short term, to become a better and more confident writer - something I have aspired to be for a while now.

While Newbury isn't the worst place in the world (sorry Beardy, but I actually like it here), I cannot wait to be back in Canterbury at the weekend, continuing to live my best life with some of my favourite people. Semester two, lets do this.

--- Aimee ---

Reviewing the Year: 2017

Typing this with heavy eyes from a lengthy crying session, it's hard to believe that this year was good, even if I am fully aware of all the positive things which happened in 2017. (At least for me anyway, the world as a whole hasn't been so lucky.)

At the beginning of the year I was hopeful that, some day in the future, I would be able to look back and say 'yeah, 2017 was my year'. In many ways I truly believe it has been my year; so many great things have happened and I'm so grateful for each one.

In 2017 I passed my driving theory and practical tests, I finished my A-Levels with A*BB and subsequently won two subject awards because of this. I turned 18 which allowed me to vote in the election as well as spending many, many nights out clubbing with my friends.

In September I moved two and a half hours away from home to begin university doing a course I adore which allowed me to meet so many new wonderful people. And I got to spend all of the past 12 months with my wonderful boyfriend who helped make each achievement happen.

I wish I could say that 2017 was the year I read a lot but, sadly, it wasn't to be. I did read a little however, and what I read was fantastic. I began the year by finishing Orwell's 1984, later investing in Suffragette: My Own Story, A Clockwork Orange and The Burial at Thebes. More recently I began Huxley's Brave New World and Rupi Kaur's Milk and Honey.

I watched a number of beautiful and fantastic films including; The Time Travellers Wife, What  Happened to Monday?, London Has Fallen, Paper Towns, Love Actually (I know, it's taken me 14 years to watch, I really am a terrible Brit), 127 Hours (bit too much blood for my liking) and The Holiday.

As usual, I attended a number of events this year (mainly musical) as I saw All Time Low in March, Creeper also in March and later in December, Frank Turner in July, Scouting for Girls in November, Steps later that month and Veridian a total of four times throughout the year. I enjoyed a music filled weekend in Oxford at Truck Festival for my third year running and attended a number of Reading FC matches including a trip to Wembley on May Bank Holiday weekend.

I was lucky enough to have a total of four holidays this year, all with my favourite person in the world. I got to visit; Weymouth, Torquay, Croyde and, my favourite, Kos.

So all in all, I guess 2017 has been a pretty good one. Maybe it wasn't quite as expected but, my god, I achieved a lot. Going into 2018 surrounding by my best friends, I can only hope that this next year is half as good as this one has been.

So here's to another year of success, may it be nothing short of incredible.

                                                               --- Aimee ---

Flirty Freshers

Three weeks into university life I can safely say the experience has been incredible. I have made some lovely friends and great memories already and I am so excited that this is just the beginning of  such an exciting journey. My few contact hours for my course has allowed me just enough time to enjoy my studies and also explore the wonderful city of Canterbury.

Obviously when people think of moving to university there is often one huge thing to look forward to; freshers. Being in a club is fun, I love spending the night dancing and drinking, is there really anything better in life? But the club based environment which freshers largely focuses on means the week doesn't come without hindrances, primarily from guys.

Don't get me wrong I am a very guy oriented kind of gal. As much as I criticise and moan, I largely favour them to girls (hence having very few female friends.) But this preference has proved an issue to me since starting university; how do you become friends with a guy?

In my life guys have always kind of just been there, I haven't had to go out my way they have just always been around. I haven't had to send friendly messages to weave my way and gain their friendship, well not in recent years anyway. So how the heck do people do it? How do you find the fine line between friendliness and flirtatiousness? What is too friendly?

But my initial worry when I moved here a mere three weeks ago wasn't the guys, it was the lack of them. I found myself moving into an all girl flat and I won't lie, I panicked. Forget the guys, how do you become friends with girls?

Now I realise that I was worried about nothing as girls are lovely. They are especially lovely on a night out; whether its copying your dance moves so you aren't so embarrassed or bumping into you after meeting you the night before and acting like you're BFF's.

Three weeks later I think I'm finding the right balance of friendliness and not worrying too much about guys being a hassle.

There's no point in worrying too much. I'm not going to stop having maximum enjoyment because I'm scared how one person might take. I'm still going to dance and sing and drink, but most of all I'm going to enjoy myself as much as I can because that's what uni is all about, right?

--- Aimee ---

Education Envy

A week on from A-Level Results Day Eve it seems only too apt to dedicate a blog post to defending my subjects, something which I have had to do many times over the past two years. I don't regret my choices (bar AS Computing, c'mon Aimee, really?) but I despise the social stigma surrounding certain subjects.

There a clear divide in the education system, there are two types of subject; real ones and easy ones. Don't know which category you fall into? It's simple really, any subject remotely creative (drama, dance, textiles, media etc.) is an 'easy' choice and 'doesn't count' as a real A-Level. However, anything that requires actual brain power is socially acceptable and if you fail it doesn't matter because 'gosh that must be hard'.

As a student who spent two years studying English Literature, Media Studies and Travel and Tourism, I know only too well that, yes A-Levels are hard but a struggle in a 'lesser' subject will not be treated the same as a struggle in Biology, Maths, Physics etc.

I don't want to reverse the social norm and throw subjects typically viewed as more intellectual under the bus but can us creative bunch have some recognition too please? I am fed up with having to defend the creative industry time and time again and I haven't even started my creative degree yet.

The bottom line is A-Levels are hard, bloody hard. The whole experience is an intense and stressful time; you end up crying over lost coloured pens and then resorting to a simple 'oh well' shrug when you screw up an exam.


Some A-Levels are easier than others but easier is all they are. They are not easy.

Slating certain subjects and praising others only creates a harmful divide between the geniuses and those who can't get straight A's in their A-Levels. There is always going to be a need for creativity; whose going to write and record your favourite television shows if you keep telling people that Media isn't a real subject? I'm afraid you can't have it both ways.

Unfortunately major subjects like Maths will always come out on top and there will always be 'lesser' subjects but more credit needs to be given to creative students so they don't feel like they've wasted their years in subjects that just don't count.

Workload needs to be understood. Media isn't simply watching television and English Literature isn't just reading the odd book. They are real subjects which require just as much hard work and studying as the next subject.

Next time you come home from a hard day of work in the computer/maths/science industry feeling superior because of your chosen path don't switch on the television, don't read a book and don't read a newspaper.

Sorry to burst your bubble but you need us creative lot to provide your entertainment, something we will stop doing if you are constantly discouraging our education choices.

--- Aimee ---

Truck Festival (Take 3)

Oh Truck Festival here we are again and once again you were a dream. A wet, muddy and miserable dream perhaps but a dream nonetheless.

We met this time without the accompaniment of a responsible adult to aid me through the weekend. Ok I lied, that's not strictly true, there was a responsible adult but that adult was me. Maybe a responsible adult would have been a good idea when I was chucking my guts up on Saturday night after too much vodka, but I guess you live and you learn.

This year was a different from my previous sunny, family orientated, casual drinking Truck experiences; the sun decided to take a break, the heavens opened and alas the mud began. After hours of rain on the Friday afternoon, I was no longer hopeful that the weekend would be as idealistic and wonderful as I had imagined.

The weekend somehow surpassed my previous high expectations despite the many, many, many things which went wrong. A leaking and broken tent, lakes of mud, a wet pillow (soon replaced with a muddy one), throwing up, a broken phone charger, running through mud to get to First Aid only to get lost on the way back, being wet/cold/miserable, a stolen camping chair (which was covered in sick so I guess it could've been worse), an overcrowded dance tent and dragging my friends to see Slaves only for them to end up in a mosh pit despite my encouragement that our positioning would be fine. Oh, not to mention our car almost getting stuck upon leaving the festival on Monday.

I won't go on because there were positives; they were far and few between but there were some. The weather was awful and moods were low but the people I was with saved the day; the friends I made upon offering a allergy relief tablet, the lost festival goers who we adopted into our camp, the stranger who gave me a hug when Slaves encouraged people to hug their friends and I was alone.

My friends made it all worthwhile.

Maybe the whole weekend didn't go to plan but had I not gone I wouldn't have seen Kat's happiness at seeing The Vaccines perform nor would I have got to be in my absolute element as The Wombats played 'Let's Dance To Joy Division'. 

I wouldn't have discovered Hot 8 Brass Band (cheers Grace) or Will Joseph Cook. 

I wouldn't have seen Superfood perform 'You Can Believe' or have seen The Vaccines perform 'All In White'.

Had I not gone I wouldn't have had the nicest vegan curry nor would I have tried vegan pizza.

Yes it was wet, muddy, cold and a complete disaster but I loved (almost) every minute of it and most of all I got to spend the weekend with some of the nicest people I have met. Truck, it was a pleasure as always. Thank you.

--- Aimee ---

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

I recently embarked on my first non-male assisted night out and it was wond-awful. Yes it was both; neither terrible nor brilliant (sorry Grace I did have a good time I promise!)

It was alcohol fuelled. Very.

It was fun and I danced, a lot.

It wasn't the night itself that was awful; it was the people. Me and Grace quickly became targets (too strong a word?) for the men looking for a hook up.

I was not their girl.

I did appreciate being left alone after they discovered that, actually, I was not on the market tonight. What I didn't appreciate was the two hours of dancing which happened before they cared to ask about my relationship status. And when they did ask it wasn't me they asked, it was Grace.

I did want to be that girl that tells every guy that so much as breathes in her direction that actually, I've got a boyfriend. Neither did I want to be that girl who adopts a flirtatious manner to have a £4.40 double vodka and coke bought for her.

The night made me overly conscious. Was my friendliness coming across as flirting? Were they offering me a drink because they thought I was nice or because they wanted more? Was I worrying too much about nothing?

Was there actually anyone in here who was just being nice for the sake of being nice?

I wish I could have accepted a drink without the overarching fear that the minute they found out I wasn't single I would be accused of deceiving them. I wanted to take them up on their offer of a free drink but I didn't want to take them on their more subtle offer of 'I'll buy you a drink and we'll hook up yeah?.'

Not today thanks. Actually, not any day.

I didn't want to worry about the outcomes of being two girls out alone. I didn't want to fear for my own safety but I did. And I couldn't shake the feeling that had we been with guys as we usually are, this would not have happened. I wouldn't have felt a target, I wouldn't have been so worried to have fun.

Luckily this occurrence is a rarity for me as most of my nights are largely worry (and creepy guy) free besides the odd bum grab and drunk compliment. But that's just the price you pay for having the audacity to go out and enjoy yourself isn't it?

--- Aimee ---

Election Antics

A few months back I turned 18 meaning a world of possibilities had opened up for me. There were many things which I could now do to fully embrace my new found adulthood and one of them was the ability to vote.

With a snap election called earlier on in the year, my ears pricked up that, for the first time, I would be having a say in the future I wanted for my country. Living in a house where neither of my parents vote I was very much alone in my almost sudden interest in politics.

I (not so quickly) got to work researching different parties and their aims for the UK as well as looking at likely outcomes in my area. Tactical voting became a likelihood and I considered the option of sparking a local change rather than a national one.

Politics often causes a social divide and this election proved no different. The country was essentially split in two; those who had a rather traditional view of Britain and those who embraced the chance of a more modern approach to social issues. Or, more simply; conservatives and labour.

One thing I have learned from the election is that the older generation are never happy. There will be disappointed when only 65% of youth voters turn out to have their say. Then, when record numbers of 18-24 year olds do have their say, they will speak of brainwashing and a lack of understanding.

They will complain about the source of your information and dispute the fact that Theresa May isn't the wicked witch people see her as despite her views on foxes, the poor, LGBT communities, young people and immigrants. Remind me how this is simply the media being biased? Would it not perhaps be worse for the media to portray a candidate as a incapable clown purely because they fear change?

The dominant idea that the election was merely a two horse race was a dangerous one. Correct nationally but not regionally. Being labelled a 'plastic' Labour supporter for choosing tactical voting over wasting my vote by people who wouldn't be able to place Newbury on a map was not my finest hour. Why would I be willing to vote for the party who, last election, had fewer votes than UKIP, a party who shared only 10% of the vote?

One of the great thrills of the general election was the results (not forgetting of course #dogsatpollingstations). The sheer buzz of Labour winning safe Tory seats, Newcastle beating Sunderland to the voting declaration, seeing 208 women win their seats. Next election, I urge to stay up and watch just some of it, it is thrilling. And if I can get 3 hours sleep and proceed to get an A on a past paper the following day then you do not need to be worried about being tired (naps exist for a reason.)

Personally, the election did not work in my favour. My constituency remained a Conservative seat with 61% of the votes, giving no chance to either the Liberal Democrats nor Labour. Despite this, local turnout was at it's highest since 1997 with 73.4% making their way to their polling station to cast their vote, a figure which made me immensely proud.

A more hopeful result was Canterbury (where I am hoping to be come September) which saw a Labour win for the first time since the constituency was formed 99 years ago. Of course this is likely to be down to the fact that Canterbury is 70% students, the biggest demographic targeted in Labour's campaign.

Sadly, all the excitement and adrenaline that came with the election is now over. All the Corbyn hype, the Tory bashing, the political debates (of which my dad watched purely because he found it funny to watch people arguing with each other). It's going to be one hell of a long five year wait.

That's if we don't end up doing this all again in a few months time, and I for one wouldn't object.

--- Aimee ---

The Hierarchy of Retail

In a world full of competing females on Instagram with there perfect bodies and their trendy clothes you won't find me in the nearest Topshop. Instead I'll be hiding in my comfort zone; the sale section of New Look.

The hierarchy of retail is something which baffles me; if you're not buying the latest eye shadow palette for £30 then you're not fashionable. If you're not buying the latest laced top which 80% of females now own then you're not fashionable. If you don't rejig your wardrobe every few months, keeping only the trendy items then sorry, you're not fashionable.

But who defines what's fashionable to me? Surely, the simple answer is me.

Of course we each have our preferences of where we want to shop otherwise Tesco and Sainsbury's would dominate the fashion industry.

Fashion is one thing, sure I would like to be deemed fashionable but the question is can I actually afford it?

Why spend £20 on a jumper when I could wait a while and get it in the sale for £10? It is rare that I splash my cash on clothes costing more than £15 as a regular occurrence but as always there are exceptions. Last November I found myself parting with £22 for the sake of an absolutely gorgeous black jumpsuit.

It was very much a love at first sight kind of buy; a rarity in my life. Many retail encounters makes me second guess the price and often leads to the sad and lonely walk to return the clothing to the rail.

But I would rather return items there and then than take them home, put them in my wardrobe and never wear them again.

But I would rather that than purchasing the latest must-have buy for the sake of being deemed hip (if hip can even be considered a compliment anymore, am I just living in the 1990's?)

And don't even get me started on the trend of online shopping. How the damn hell am I meant to know if that dress on boohoo.com fits me or not? How do I know the ASOS top isn't going to far too tight on my boobs to actual be acceptable to wear?

Online shopping, for me, is one big no.

Despite my everlasting love for the New Look sales (which isn't a bad thing to love because when it leaves you it's only for a few weeks before the next season's sale is on) there is one thing which I will forever love just that little bit more; charity shops (sorry Jack).

Ok it might not be the things you're looking for or what you need but who actually leaves a shop with only stuff they need anyway? Yes I'm talking about you £1.95 toast rack I purchased just last week.

Maybe one day I'll have the confidence (and money) to splash the cash and become a fashionista. But, in the meantime, the sale rails will do me just fine.

--- Aimee ---

Two Years Meat Free

'Don't you ever miss meat?'

'Blimey, I couldn't do that'

'But surely you eat fish?'

'You aren't really making a difference'

Welcome to this blog post that I am going to describe as 'things vegetarians are tired of hearing'.

As I embark upon my second year being vegetarian, I am becoming more and more aware of the issues, views and stigmas around the subject and, with this understanding I have complied a little list on some issues for for you to dwell upon.

Misusing the word 'vegetarian'
There is a lot of confusion surrounding the idea of vegetarianism which is largely due to a misuse of the word. Vegetarianism is simply defined as the practise of not eating fish or meat. However, vegetarian is used too broadly in society, often covering those who eat fish also.

Although less commonly known, there is word for this; pesciterian. Labelling those who consume fish products as vegetarians causes a lot of confusion among non-vegetarians. This misconception of the idea means that my restaurant experiences consists of me naming myself as a vegetarian and, when then offered the range of fish dishes on the menu, having to state that, actually, I don't eat fish either. Let's not talk about the restaurants which present fish dishes with the vegetarian 'V' next to them.

It shouldn't be this difficult, the word literally means no fish or meat. Stop. Offering. Me. Fish.

Questioning my decision
Some take the opportunity of my dietary preferences to decide for me what I should or shouldn't like/miss/feel. I have made a decision to be vegetarian. If at any point I wish to revert that decision I can.

Please stop asking me if I miss meat and am tempted to eat it again. It is none of your business that Christmas rolls around and pigs in blankets makes me regret giving up meat (for about 5 seconds before I remind myself that animals have been murdered and that is not right.)

If you are genuinely interested in my reasoning then please, ask away. However, if you are just going to mock me, belittle me and interrogate me then please stop wasting your time. If I ever decide to alter my decision it will be my choice and not because Jim in the pub told me I should.

Lack of choice
When I go out to restaurants of course I don't expect the entire menu to be meat and fish free but I do expect some choice. Please don't completely take away my ability to choose what I want to eat. Meat eaters can also opt for these options so please don't make them so limited. It seems almost laughable that Nandos, a restaurant specialising in chicken, has more to offer me than major chain restaurants.

And don't even get me started on the children's menus which exclusively offers meat dishes.

The pointlessness
You always get the pessimistic meat eaters who believe that you're fighting a lost cause and that no number of conversions to meat free diets will make a change. Or they belief that 'the animals will be killed anyway' so what does it matter if you eat them or not. But it does matter because less people purchasing meat means less demand for meat which means less meat being produced aka a change.

Maybe if Tesco were to advertise vegetarianism people would understand that 'every little helps'.

But you're assuming that I'm trying to make some global change. I know that everyone isn't going to stop eating meat tomorrow but because I think its wrong; I'm not the naive. I'm just trying to do my bit to be a better person and help out in any way I can.

Saving the planet would be nice but so would passing my a-levels; it's not top of my agenda right now.

The stereotypical vegetarian
As with any personal preference which distinguishes you from another person, there is no rule book on what you should be.

We won't call you out every time you chose meat over the veggie option (well not all of us anyway.) Of course sometimes it is necessary, after all if we don't make a stand how do we expect more people to become aware and change their ways?

We won't throw up at the sight of meat. As a waitress it would prove difficult if this were the case. I understand and respect that some people will chose to eat meat no matter what horrible stories you tell them and, just as it is no place for them to tell me what to do, it is no place for me to tell them what to do either.

And we don't all go around protesting animal testing and animal rights either. Sure, animal rights are important but there just aren't enough hours in the day. If people want to do that then be my guest but I'll do my bit by choosing the cheaper, meat free option from Pizza Express thanks.

Nor do we all think we are better simply because we cut out meat. Sure, we could be considered more caring, more aware but not altogether 'better'.

So please, please, please stop with the questions; it's my choice, not yours.

--- Aimee ---