Can't Touch This

Today I ended up drunk because I was scared of an interaction between myself, a friend, and two strange men,

It's a pretty abrupt entry to this blog post. But it's the truth. And I'm writing this because I'm sick of men grabbing me. Like really, I'm totally bloody sick of it.

So today I went Christmas shopping with a really good friend of mine. It was going great. We got some Secret Santa stuff, and presents for others, and then decided to get a drink. Me, being me, I decided to go to an Irish pub I haven't been to since my 18th birthday, and decided to introduce my friend to it. It's actually a really nice pub, hidden away, a total gem in Liverpool if you ask me.

So I went to the bar and was told that they were doing a deal on two drinks and decided on two big bottles of cider, with the intention of spending over an hour there and to enjoy the Irish music. Let's face it, most Irish bars don't play REAL Irish music, and coming up to Christmas I'm bound to feel homesick.

My friend goes for two drinks too and takes a seat next to me, ready to enjoy a nice chat and some music, when all of a sudden two random fellas decide to approach us. They must've been in their forties or something (and we're only 19 and 21). They want to know our names (fake ones are given to them) they want to know where we are from (they also claim that we are probably related to our entire villages #racism). One uses derogatory terms towards lesbians and also insists that we dance, which I repeatedly and quite blatantly refuse.

Then he copped onto my tattoo on my arm and repeatedly asks what it is of and also why do I have it? It shocks him why I would ever want a tattoo. I didn't tell him. I played dumb, as I usually do. I don't have to explain my body, or any forms of ink on my body. My personal reasons are my own. And if you don't like that, you can piss off.

While all of this was going on, I was trying to chug down my 2 pints, in under half an hour so I could make a run for it as soon as I saw an opening. Eventually, they disappeared (Where to, I haven't the slightest) and we ran to the nearest friend's apartment. It was horrible.

I had gone to that pub with the intention of having a quiet and slow few drinks, enjoy music, and talk to one of my best friends. Instead, this guy barges in, uses derogatory words, and demands answers from me about my body, and also that I dance with him.

And the worst part of it all?

He fucking touched me!

I'm fine with brushing against someone's arm or lightly turning them by the arm (even though I wouldn't dare do it myself) but he literally ruffled my hair and started touching my head. And the worst of the worst?

This isn't the first time!

Less than 6 months before, a man in a bar caught me by the arm and wouldn't let go. And before that? A man forcefully caught my arm and forced my hand away from my face. And that friend of mine? Was groped by a stranger less than a month ago. Why do some people think it is okay and appropriate to grab people? Why do some people seem some fucking entitled?

I am sick and tired of people grabbing me and my friends. I am sick and tired of double standards, towards both men and women. But these men are the reason that there are some feminists in the world who are radically anti-men.

There are some genuine guys out there but these guys give the rest of them a bad name, just as radical feminists give us other feminists a bad name.

Besmirching of reputations aside. Please stop bloody touching me! I am not your property! I don't owe you anything! Women don't do this to you so why do you think that this is okay? How on earth are you entitled to me? I am not going to dance, drink, or sleep with you! Yes, some women may consent, but not me! So don't touch me!

You don't know the people that you approach. They could be assault victims, they could like women, they could be asexual, they could have any back story! And you are not allowed to lose your shit and get angry with them about it! In the case of victims, they are who they are because some other asshole kinda like you turned up one day and felt entitled to someone else's body and that is not okay. You cannot  go around doing this. It is so uncomfortable having people touch you with your consent.

You have no idea how scary it is!

Do you know what it is like to be underage and have a drunk guy refuse to let go of you, and fear the idea of possibly being raped? I do. It's not nice.

Thankfully someone saved me in time.

But drink is no excuse. If you know that you are a misogynistic and disrespectful asshole when you drink, then it's easy, just don't drink!

This is why girls travel in packs, even to the bathroom. We live in constant fear. We aren't in a society of 'don't attack', sadly we live in a society of 'don't get attacked'. And to be quiet honest, I don't regret leaving those guys and their bags behind.

You can come over and chat to me, Introduce yourself and be nice. But don't insult minorities in front of me and don't you dare lay a finger on me.

The Thing About Living With An Artist

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The other day I found myself in a warm and full bath, fully clothed, with some milk and flour mixed in.
I am a twenty year old who sat in a bath, that was basically cake ingredients.
I felt like Cruella de Vill when she got turned into a giant cake.

This is basically because I live with an artist, and my literal dunk into confectionery was in the name of photography.

This isn't the first odd thing I have been asked to do.

The First One (Tattoos)

You see. At 17, I wanted this Irish sentence on my arm, I knew that I'd be leaving Ireland and immigrating and I wanted a piece of home with me, and the phrase itself just always spoke volumes to me. I had been mulling it over for months and I knew I wanted it. Hell, I still know I want it and I'm going to be 20 in a few months.                                                              

So when I was around 17-ish, I was watching TV with my mother when I randomly broke the silence with 'What would you think if I got a tattoo?'

She wasn't against it, which I still don't know how I feel about. I mean on one hand, you kind of expect mothers to fly off the handle and come out with things like 'I basically created your arm and you want to vandalise it?!'

But on the other hand, my father has tattoos, and my mother always said that she would like one, but never knew that to get, or where to get it.

She asked me what kinda of tattoo I was thinking about, and where I would like it, and then text my dad to ask for his opinion. He didn't mind, but he gave me two rules (one which I later broke).

1. Get it in a spot where you can hide it in the event of a job interview or a court hearing, etc.
     Reasonable. I didn't want my first tattoo to be a picture of Homer Simpson on my face, or any of those huge Chinese ones on my neck anyway. I don't want them in general either. The only way that could happen is if I ever got drunk in the likes of Magaluf.

2. Get it done by the guy that does his own tattoos.
     I broke this one. I actually got mine done in another country. I wasn't going to wait months and months to go to Ireland just for a tattoo, and I had seen the work of the person near my house, so I got her to do it.


Anyway, to cut a long story short, something also popped up, and I ended up having a different tattoo for my first experience. But I plan on getting my Irish one next.

Before you go into the studio, you may be shaking in fear. That's fine. It's your first time repeatedly being stabbed by a needle that will leave a mark on your body forever, and you have no idea how it will feel until it actually happens! There's no backing out, in your mind now. You just need to place one foot in front of the other and do it.

You will see the drawing of the tattoo before the outline is transferred onto your skin, so you can tell them if there's something you're not happy with, after all you'll be the one living with it for the rest of your life.

Then you'll be covered in disinfectant, and the process shall begin.
When I first asked someone what it felt like, I got the response of a 'burning or hot scratch'.
They weren't far off the mark, it was, or else I would call it the slightest of electrocution.  I don't want to scare you off with that comment. I think I came up with it because it was near veins and nerves, and the wire kept touching my hand, giving me the feel of vibrations,
Let's just say, it's tolerable. And if you want to stop and have a break, you're allowed to do so.

So when mine was finished, it was wrapped in cling film. Everyone I know who has gone through this, had the same thing placed on it, but I've read about other cases that bandage it. But in this scenario, I was told to leave it on for an hour, and then wash it with warm water and place some Bepanthen (also heard E45 can be used) on it.

All I remember is going into the chip shop next door and staring at it like, 'woah, I've got a tattoo. I'm an adult! I see blood! Woah!'

Killing the hours wait is fine. I just watched an episode of the Simpsons and Futurama, and it was fine. The area will be a little raw for around 3 days, just make sure DON'T SCRATCH IT! (you'll ruin the ink and need a touch up)

Apparently, they take up to six weeks to heal.

My tattoo will be a week old tomorrow, and it's already beginning to peel. It's odd, watching blue skin peel away from your arm.

When I'm out, it's covered, when I'm home its airing, and I try to apply cream whenever I can. I finally feel like an adult, buying alcohol, a nose piercing, some permanent body art, budgeting my own finances and going out on nights out.

Let my twenties begin!


All reviews and comments are welcome! Again, pictures are not mine, but obviously the anecdotes are!

Wrong First Impressions?

So with work, college and routine back, we are once again struggling with that yearly problem. No I'm not talking about getting out of bed in the morning, but it's just as bad.
It's the fear of making friends.
You know the one I'm talking about. The one where you worry about ending up alone for the rest of the year because the girl at the end of the room looked at you funny, or because that guy from earlier didn't notice when you purposely laughed too loudly.
Out of interest, have any of you ever taken the time to ask one of your friends their first impressions of you? Recently, one of my friends admitted to me that she thought I wouldn't like her because I seemed 'stuck up my own arse'. Now we share innuendos and flirt with each other for a laugh, even though we are both straight and one of us has a boyfriend (it's not me, sadly).
I got thinking after she said this, and I remembered how a guy in my old school had told a girl that he had never befriended her earlier because he was terrified that she would kill him, she just so happened to look that vicious and angry all the time, he was put off.
In reality, she was a lovely girl that I had a lot in common with. She didn't have a criminal record or any bad behaviour in her school files.
But then I got to the inevitable question of, why?
Why did I seem so snobby?
I was a culchie from a field in Ireland. I didn't come from a city like everyone! I came from an agriculturally based village. I didn't go to Top Shop or River Island. My mother sewed up old clothes and I hardly ever went shopping, unless it was down the road for a can of coke!
So I reflected on what I was doing when I first crossed paths with this girl, on the day of my first ever class of Sociology. What with it being a new country, and a new learning environment, I was also afraid about culture clashes and my impression with everyone else. I was so consumed with this fear that I started wearing red lipstick, curling my hair and trying to seem a little bit more...me. More than the girl that came from the middle of nowhere, and more than the girl that lived in jeans and band shirts.

I was also sitting at the other end of the room and trying to make friends with a guy, who I totally ended up falling out with anyway, so I kinda don't blame her for thinking I was some sort of pretentious bitch.
They say that the first impression happens within one tenth of a second. Which is pretty scary. But if this has taught me anything, its that first impressions are best when you look like shit, or you're wearing your oldest clothes with no make up.
Admittedly, both myself and this friend both wear light make up and occasionally dress up, but in the year we've been besties, we've both turned up in shirts going from Jurassic Park, to Ghostbusters. We are total dorks that wink at each other  and act stupid. Which is nothing that you'd expect from me a year ago if you were to see me, with red lipstick, curly hair and my best black coat, asking questions and arguing sociological problems.
Do any of you have any stories about first impressions?
Any of your friends say that they were terrified of you or found you intimidating in any way?
I'd love to hear from you in the comments.

Also, my follow up post on What's Wrong With Feminism shouldn't take too long. Sorry for that delay. I saw how much you all enjoyed it.

And another thing, you may want to keep an eye out on the blog if you watch Sons of Anarchy, I may end up writing about it, now that the final season has started, and you know how much I like me some Courtney Love.

As usual, I don't own the picture and get nothing out of it except a nice bit of colour on my page.

Feminist Idols

Before I begin, I just want to say that I was reading a 'how to' article on running a successful blog and it said something along the lines of 'write self help articles for your readers' and 'don't jump from irrelevant topic to irrelevant topic'. So before I begin, I'd just like to state that I may, now and again, commit this oh so heinous crime, and write a little something about a horrible day, or about how much I love a certain celebrity......well maybe not the latter, that may be turned into an odd article on obsession.

But enough of that, my feminist idols is who you're here for.

I thought that I would discuss my top three for this article:

 the first being the fabulous Caitlin Moran.

When I was 16, I was turned on to the book 'How To Be a Woman' written by this fabulous dame. I had the book read within two days, and couldn't stop telling my mother all about it. In fact, I think that it gave me the confidence to talk about really personal girl things like the menstrual cycle, for example. Before I had read the book I'd just be doubled over in pain and really shy going 'Mam...mam....Can I have painkillers?....why?....because...it's my time....my time for the thing!"
After reading the first half of the book, I could say the words 'fat,period, and feminist'.In fact I talk to my roommate about everything now, and I mean everything. I've never read a self help book. I may be a college student studying psychology in England, but to be honest, I don't buy into it, all that self help malarky is just a DIY on your cognitive habits. And that's the beauty of this book!
I hadn't gone looking for it, but it had found me! And at the right time too, before I moved to England and could feel self conscious among city girls in their designer clothes and perfect make up and hair at nine in the morning. On top of it all though, it brought me closer to my mother (which is a long story).
Anywho, after reading the book, and agreeing with everything that was said in it, I was confident and ready to face the world. Don't get me wrong, we all have bad days, but I still have moments when I think about the bit in the book that says that people should compliment others more often in order to brighten up their day, and it really works!

But this is a post on idols, not book reviews, although I may do one someday with a complete breakdown of books I have read and loved. This is a post on feminist idols and about the amazing Ms. Moran.

Upon finishing the book I decided that I wanted to be just like her when I reached adulthood (which I have by now). I wanted to be this person (hair and all, but that also goes into my next idol on the list). Like this idol of mine, I had a busy household with siblings and shared bedrooms. People are terrified when I eat fast, but its just the way I was raised. It was a case of snatch and grab because we always had to race for food before everything was gone. I was a recluse that never went around my housing estate, and fictional worlds were my main escape.

But this woman has said a huge FUCK YOU to the patriarchal system in which we live and hasn't been put off of sharing her opinions and ideas, instead becoming a journalist and printing these views in the funniest ways possible. Strong willed, fast talker, and shameless, this is a woman that I will always look up to. On top of spreading the good news of feminism, I also admire how she has slammed stereotypical radical views, and rather than burn a bra (which I'd love to do on the basis that they can hurt) she has settled down with a family of her own, showing that feminism isn't about women coming out on top, it's about equality and women doing what they want to do without being frowned at for it. If women want to have a career and never get married, they should have the right to do so, and if they want to have a family, they should as well. They should never do things just because society expects them to.
All in all, she is definitely someone that I would love to go on a night out with, or at least stay in with a cup of tea....or a bottle of wine, whichever floats your boat.

Next up, the Quirky Kate......Nash, that is.

Ranging from songs about stalking crushes and silent,black dress wearing girls, to songs about falling out with your best friend, and rapping about social inequalities of the genders, this is your woman. If you want something with a simple piano tune, or an empowered female screaming into a mic, she is definitely the go-to gal.

And, going back to my earlier point on hair, she also had Caitlin's style of having a white streak of hair contrasting against the rest of her dark hair (although full credit goes to Caitlin for starting the trend). It's gone now though, Kate went pink.
I first found this woman circa 2009 and saw her live last October. I must say, you should see her if you ever get a chance. She's wild, energetic, obviously inspired by the next woman on my list, and easily creates a kick ass atmosphere whenever she rocks out.
Also like Caitlin, Kate helps people to reclaim words that society has deemed unacceptable for young ladies. Not only is it unlady like to swear (and I do it like a sailor) it is also wrong, apparently, to use derogatory words like 'slut' and 'whore' if you're a woman. What society forgets is, when us females are really close, it's how we greet each other. We're not exactly serious when we say it, unless we see our arch nemesis in an amazing pair of shoes. Life isn't like Mean Girls, where we all have a secret vindictive agenda and mean what we say when we great each other with insults, we use them so we can learn to brush them off instead. My roommate has called me a slut more times than I can count, and if you were to even try it now, it wouldn't affect me.
After finishing her hit song 'Do-Wah-Doo' Kate then proceeded to spend the next minute walking around the stage saying 'bitch bitch bitch bitch'. And she was so happy doing it! It was adorable! I can't listen to that song anymore without having a smile on my  face!
The entire Girl Talk album is one big rant on behalf of women, and it's an amazing thing, seriously why isn't it platinum yet?! I'm actually waiting for her to work with Lily Allen, that would make my day.
And with that quirky gal of sunshine, I shall now end with my last feminist idol!

The glamorous, no shit taking, and I quote 'testosterone in a dress', Ms. Courtney Love Cobain!

I know I know, some people are probably reading this like 'seriously?!', but if you move away from the conspiracy theories for a second and look at the bigger picture, you'll see where I'm coming from, so bare with me.

She didn't have the best childhood, she had to do all she could to survive, and remained a strong and confident woman. She knew what she wanted to do, she admitted on a few occasions that she can't sing, yet she is still a multi-million record selling woman! She does what she loves, she doesn't take shit, she's honest, even sometimes brutally so. And she's so funny, if anyone here has seen her YouTube Channel. And despite all of the rumors and allegations around her, she still continues on, tells the world to fuck off, and enjoys life.

And people will turn around and say 'yeah but the drugs'.
Yes. I won't deny it. She into them, but so has Keith Richards, and Ozzy, but does anyone care about them doing a line of coke? No! But once Courtney does heroine, or once Stevie Nicks does coke, people just go insane. Her life was in a dark place and she fell, but we all fall. Some people get drunks, other people do worse things, but she pulled out of it for her daughter, she's been clean, and yes she starts fights and goes to court, but that's because she won't take anything sitting down. If you slap Courtney Love, you'll get a black eye, and that's precisely the reason I love her.

And honestly, she's a gifted lyricist, I love her new track and I can't wait to see her in Manchester next month.

And that's what I admire about all of these women. They remember that life is short and precious and that you can only do things if you make them happen. The only person that limits you in life is yourself, and while I may dream of writing a successful screenplay (which I have to begin because I'm that lazy) I still make sure that I enjoy myself when I get side tracked and turn to fanfiction instead!
This idea of life being so short has made these women ignore the haters, say a big giant FUCK YOU to people who put them down and continue to do what they love and enjoy themselves, ignoring mysogny and sexism.

I want the toughness of Courtney, the wittiness of Caitlin and the confidence of Kate.
Courtney, Caitlin, Kate (great alliterations eh?)

And thanks to these women I am, to quote Kate, "An independent women of the 21st century"

xx

I do not own any of the pictures used in this post, and all credit goes towards respected photgraphers and companies