What's Actually the Point?,

So, hate speech. It sucks, doesn't it? But then again, we have certain rights to freedom of speech and freedom of expression. I don't want anyone to get the wrong end of the stick if this doesn't come out clearly - I'm not against freedom of expression or speech in any way. 

BUT

I'm currently researching for an End of Year Assignment that I'm writing about 'hate speech' and 'freedom of speech' and one of my search results was Amnesty International. I've never been overly clear how I feel about them before, but this article is swaying me more towards dislike than anything else.

So the headline says 'JAILED FOR WAVING A FLAG' which would make me expect that the man the article is focused upon was involved in a protest where he rather innocently carried a flag, was a part of a parade including a flag, or that he just really likes Fun with Flags with Sheldon Cooper, and decided he wanted to wave one of his own. Obviously, in any of those situations, being arrested and jailed is bordering on the ridiculous. 

Another big but though...

The article then explains that he was, in fact, leading a peaceful protest, then goes on to use a lot of emotive language about his trial and current sentence. Granted, some people aren't going to see the problems here, but here they are: 

Large masses of people (e.g. protests) don't always stay peaceful and can actually be pretty intimidating and cause a lot of other disruption, even if they do stay peaceful, 

In a lot of countries, the right to protest is protected - not damaged - by laws which require permission to stage marches etc, in order to allow for procedures to be put in place to ensure public safety,

It seems as though Amnesty are just trying to throw all these emotive situations at the reader in order to have them sign the petition. If the issue is freedom of speech, make it freedom of speech, not every other thing you can find in the case to take issue with, 

And my favorite one, just because America and Western Europe have decided something is an 'unalienable right' does't mean it is afforded to everyone even within their own borders, so how the heck are we supposed to start stamping our feet because the rest of the world doesn't live up to our standards? 

It's one of the things which really annoyed me about Michelle Obama's visit in China. In a country where we know there are restrictions on information and the internet etc, it's a pretty hostile move to go in and say - not quite in these words, but I'm sure you'll forgive me - 'you ought to be more like what the West thinks everyone should be'. 

Granted, I'm looking at it from a very privileged position; I know that. I admit that I'm a very lucky, white, middle class - ish - woman who is lucky enough to be in education, to have a forum where I can post my views and not worry that I'll get arrested for them, and that I'm from one of these countries which seem to prize free flow of information, but this is one of those things that really bugs me with human rights:

We do not own the world. Britain, America, in fact, no country, has the right to steamroller over another countries views. Granted, there are certain customs we ought to protect people from, such as FGM and young women being married as soon as they have their first period, but the difference is, they're not laws that have been discussed by elected officials, or the accepted leader of a country. To me, there is a difference. 

Rant over. 

Does It Feel Like a Tuesday?,

My very simple answer to that one is no, it does not feel like a Tuesday. 

My university timetable this year means I have a three day weekend (Saturday to Monday) and so the start of my week (Tuesday) is where I get 'that Monday feeling' aka the first day of the new week where pajamas are banned as a wardrobe option and you have abandon your duvet and hope it will take you back later. Normally, it doesn't really bother me so much, but today, it's driving me nutty. 

Part of that is due to the fact that my Tuesdays are normally a reasonably easy day. Come in, sit through two hours of lecture and then go home, but today I have a meeting at lunch and am working this evening. And I spent the weekend in Budapest. Yeah, that makes 'that Monday feeling' even more sucky than a hangover.

For those of you who didn't already know this, I turned 21 just under a week ago, and after puzzling for a long time as to what I did actually want for my birthday, my parents and I agreed that a little weekend city break was the perfect option, and Budapest held some kind of appeal even though I had less than no idea what was there other than the River Danube. Even so, the trip was booked, we were packed and ready to f*off to another country for a few days - the only obstacles being getting up at 3am and driving to Stansted. Ugh. 

What I found amazing - other than the pilot not knowing that in order to land, we must first take off... - was that when we landed, the sun was bright and the temperature was creeping it's way up to 22◦ and then it stayed there for most of the day. I was as pink as one of the Care Bears that evening. 

It was a weekend of a lot of walking - a lot of the interesting architecture and the shopping district is all down by the river, which we were staying about 2miles from - but the chimney cake and the views definitely made up for it, and even the Terror Museum was well worth a look, even though there wasn't much of it actually translated into English (and where it was, the mistakes were kind of distracting!) 

Something that was more interesting (as in, well, that's odd) than interesting (as in, ooooh, that's catching my interest) was the set up of our room. I haven't quite figured out why the bathroom had a window that looked out into the bedroom, but perhaps I don't want to know the reason. Don't get me wrong it's frosted up to normal human shoulder height (so up to the level of my nose) and there is a blind over it, but the design flaw to that is that the pully for the blind is on the OUTSIDE! It's rather peculiar, but as long as you are sharing with someone you trust or don't mind seeing you in the shower, it's not too odd I guess.

I can't decide if the best part was that I got to spend so much time with Ben (sorry, I know that's cheesy :P) or the fact that he ordered breakfast in bed for us on our last morning there. Drinking Hungarian fizzy wine and having dippy eggs and pancakes was a pretty special way to start our last day out there, and shopping was obviously the best way to end it. 

Something to keep in mind is, if you go to the same shops we have over here, the pricing is going to be the same, but it doesn't require going off of the beaten track in order to find something local and a lot cheaper. I was really surprised by the relatively low cost of food, and even cheaper cost of alcohol, though I wouldn't have been quite so surprised if there were the same amount of stag parties on the plane out there as the plane coming home. The fact that you can get a shot of Jaeger, or Unicum for as little as 290Ft (about 80p) in bars on the main street makes it pretty attractive for such events. 

If you want to take a look at some of the photos, you'll have to check out my Instagram or Facebook. :) 

Originally,

This blog was going to be me complaining about something which actually has a meaning, but I've just taken attempt number two at doing an Asda shop and not being upset by all the things that I can't have, so let's go with something less meaningful, but getting more of my emotional response at the moment. 

I'm used to being slightly considerate of what I eat because of things that can be unexpectedly not vegetarian, but because of the way my stomach is behaving with diary at the moment - as a clarification, eggs are not dairy - I'm having to check the packets of everything to make sure there's no milk or cheese or cream in anything, because otherwise it will make me feel sick for hours. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to eat!!

Even the salad dressing I was looking at on Asda's website apparently contains milk, which is just ridiculous! Cheese makes up half of my diet, when I feel like crap I drink a glass of milk, so this is just insanity. It has essentially dropped my diet on it's head and I have massive cravings for crisps and chocolate all the time. 

Add to this the fact that my favourite sweets are apparently no longer being manufactured and I'm sure that it's just to torture my sweet tooth. 

Ah well, wine and bon bons it is.

After The Party,

or rather the realisation. 

So, it happens quite a lot that I have these big realisations about novels or characters and I tend to get really excited about them and have all this energy - it's like I'm running around going YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
at the top of my lungs for a day, but then the next day starts and it seems I have been drained of all enthusiasm and motivation. It's king of tough to think about having another uphill slog after you thought that you were done with the uphill slog of one novel, and that is how it can feel sometimes. 

Whilst I am happy to be able to get back to writing about two of my favourite characters, there is more to it than just that, isn't there? And I'm good at anticipating all the rubbish that comes after. 

Let's face it - if I write a new piece to the novel, I have to find a place to put it. I then need to give it a full read through in order to make sure it makes sense, I then have to edit it and format it -- Then and only then will it actually be finished. -.-

I'm beginning to wonder myself if that will ever happen.

I'm Not Done,

For roughly the last year, I've been saying, to everyone else as well as myself, that all the needs doing to Yours, is a little bit of editing, some formatting and then it's done, but when it comes down to it, I've done two edits already and am stalled half way through a third, and there has to be a reason for that, right? 

Last night, I sat in my bed and rather than wonder about the reason for it, I started writing about it, and writing about it turned out to be another piece of that whole puzzle. I've ended up starting a new section of the novel which hasn't really changed much over the last year and a half. Why? Because it really wasn't done. 

In a way, the story wasn't over, because there was an important part in the middle which wasn't written - part of it had been because of a bit of a plot hole which was pointed out when a friend proof read for me, but describing the - we'll call it logistics - of something isn't always enough, and now I realise that here, it really wasn't. There is more to be said about it, there is more work to be done. Granted I have no idea when this will be done, but it feels good to know that I wasn't just stalling because of one of those fears to do with self-publishing.

It was the write thing to do not to go straight at this and throw it on the internet before it was ready. It was a good thing. 

So, now I'm on some new medication which pretty literally requires me to drink copious amounts of tea and makes typing difficult, this is going to have to be even more of a labour of love than it ever was. I guess that I just have to have faith it will get there. 

After exams are over. 

And For My 100th blog I Will,

Be moaning about something else...

I have way too much spare time on my hands, and one of my things to do with said time is watch TV series and knit whatever project I'm working on at the time - whether it's tree stockings, blanket patches or baby jumpers. Before anyone even thinks I'm having a mini me a) several of my friends already have young babies b) one of my friends is currently pregnant and I'm making a present or two for her and c) I don't have the patience for a full sized project. 

The problems come in many forms, such as Netflix only having the first four seasons of something, and then me having to switch until the fifth season comes on, or finding that I have seen most of the films on Netflix which I am actually interested in, and of course, the fact that our internet can't even load the definition of the word shoddy before crapping out. 

Aside from that though, this weekend has been pretty amazing. 

After running so late that we missed an event we were planning to go to, my lovely Ben and I decided to go to Camden. On a Saturday. If you're from London, you'll realise how kind of stupid that was, but ah well, it was still really good fun.

One of the things I love about the markets is that you can find really good incense and it's not overly priced like it can be on the internet, and the burners aren't too bad either. I picked up some 'Black Love' sticks and 'Dragons Blood' cones - they smell amazing. You would think they would mess with my asthma, but they actually feel like they help...

After that loveliness, we decided to have a walk along the canal with a hot apple juice and cinnamon (yuck!) and mulled wine (mmmmmhmmm) up to ZSL London, Regent's Park, then get home via Baker Street. It was nice to be out whilst the sun was putting in a bit of an appearance, even though it was still cold enough to make your hands numb. 

It's got to the point now where I'm counting down the days until my birthday (17) and I'm kind of crapping myself about turning 21. Okay, so in this country, the only thing it really affords you is the pleasure of getting into certain clubs that would have turned you away before, but past that, I can't see that it really means much. Maybe 21 is the final farewell to the teenage years, because by then, the majority of your friends have hit twenty, so rather than a group of teenagers, you become a group of twenty somethings. That ambiguity makes it feel so much older!

But alas, my little old self feels the need to retreat to the safety of my bed, with my knitting or Pride and Prejudice (the book)