back on track.

I spent last term in a haze of missing home too much, not drinking enough, not working enough, not speaking enough Italian, not blogging enough (or at all), not reading enough. There is a big ol' list of 'not enoughs', but this term, everything is going to change. Today, I am going for a run, applying for jobs and drinking lots of coffee. This wave of productivity/caffeine has got me feeling really good. I have six months left in Rome. Better make them count!

So it's been a while! Last time I wrote on here, we were in the midst of riots and a warmer climate. Since then, not all that much has changed. Except for the riots and the climate. My mother got "engaged", and while my prospective stepfather leaves a lot to be desired, in theory, I am happy for them and I wish them well (seriously though, who gets engaged at the ripe old age of fifty six!?). Along with half of the population, I bit the bullet and got a Kindle. I was on the fence, but I'm really glad I did because I am reading so much more already. I went to Tom's for Christmas, which was absolutely lovely, though it did mean that due to the legendary Moore hospitality, I ate far too much. This would have been fine, except a couple of days later, my lovely friends Eilish and Bob got married, and I had to not look enormous in my purple bridesmaid's dress! I'm not sure I managed. Eilish on the other hand looked absolutely stunning, and I've never seen two people with bigger grins on their faces.

That's about it really! I came back to Rome about a week ago, and I'm rather enjoying myself. It's sunny and cold, and oh-so Italian. Everyone wears these massive puffer jackets; belted, quilted monstrosities which turn even the most glamorous of women into the Michelin Man, all tutting as they see us silly Brits strutting round in light jackets. The older women waddle around under the weight of their huge fur coats, and the men blow-dry their hair, all for fear of getting a cold.

They might just have the last laugh though, as I'm feeling a little bit sniffly...

So there you have it, a cheeky little update for those of you still interested. A few people asked me to resume writing on here, but I told them I thought maybe the time had passed. I guess I was wrong!



This was in Sherlock last night. Can they do no wrong? Also, Benedict Cumberbatch - phwoar.

leave them kids alone.

You may have heard that Rome is a little bit fucked up. I swear riots follow me round like the plague. The world is under the weather, and it's sort of scary to sit and helplessly watch as everything crumbles. I don't mean this literally, of course. I live in a fairly residential area, and the most I have experienced of this Roman rebellion is a couple of power cuts and rolling news footage. I was speaking to some acquaintances yesterday who said they were at the protest march, but fled as soon as it turned ugly. And this is always the way! I'm all for a good protest, but I think it's such a shame that there are those who set out to cause nothing but violence and destruction.

 I also think it's a shame, however that people are so quick to denounce the 'youth of today' and tar us all with the same brush. Tony Blair said after the riots in the UK that we mustn't be too quick to label our society as 'broken' and harp on about moral decline. I agree wholeheartedly. A generation that is only ever recognised as a group of trouble-makers can never truly thrive, and though I am usually the first to go on about how much I dislike humanity, I think age is completely irrelevant. Besides, we are by no means the first to express alarm at the way our youth is heading:

"The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for
authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place
of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their
households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They
contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties
at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers."

 -  Socrates (469 - 399 BC)

 On a lighter note, as I am sitting in my room and all I can hear is banging, screaming, woofing and sirens and I need to distract myself from what is possibly impending death, I would like to put it to you that of all the brilliant, delicate and satisfying morsels out there, tomato ketchup is one of the simplest culinary delights. This humble condiment has the power to transform even the dullest of cuisines into something worth eating, and can enhance other foods that are already brilliant. A sausage sandwich is good, but a sausage sandwich with ketchup is out of this world. And that is all I have to say on the matter, though I of course accept any challenges to the ketchup crown (if it's possible)! 


I leave you now with a little piece of loveliness from one of my favourite men to counteract all the hate. Sleep well. I hope you dream dreams of Justin Vernon, and not of mindless acts of violence.

grabbing rome by the balls.

I've been in Rome for exactly a month now, and I'm beginning to feel more settled. This is in part due to the discovery of 'LA5', an Italian cable channel which shows only dubbed reruns of American shows including Grey's Anatomy, Will and Grace and Dawson's Creek! Genius. I'm pretty sure this is how I will learn Italian. Through a complete submersion in American television. There's probably quite a lot wrong with that.

A lot of things are very different here, and you can see why people go on about culture shock. Everyone shouts to convey their feelings, and men on mopeds will rage at each other in incomprehensible Italian while driving. Also, the coffee actually tastes nice, and you drink it in about three seconds, standing up in a very European fashion. And it costs about eighty cents which nobody can grumble with. Of course, the bonus points Italians earn for their coffee, they soon lose when it comes to tea. Now, I happen to rather enjoy a cup of Yellow Label, but it just isn't English. Luckily, my mother sent me out here with a big pack of tea and a jumbo bag of Cadbury's miniatures (which came in handy when I couldn't afford proper food), so I feel pretty at home.

So if you have read my little ramblings a lot, you will know that I like making lists and categorising my thoughts in odd ways. Therefore, I give you my definitive list of things I have decided I must do before I return in Julyish:

1. Write at least one hundred blog posts. I've forgotten how to write, and it's definitely time to get back on track.
2. Go to a Catholic mass. I'm curious...
3. Learn Italian - This one is possibly the trickiest. It's just so easy to get completely caught up in the Erasmus scene without actually talking to all that many Italians. Therefore, it is necessary to work that bit harder to make up for it. I also have already befriended some French people, with whom I want to speak lots of French, seeing as I am neglecting it a little bit. French will always be the one with a place in my heart. 
4. Read - This year doesn't technically matter academically, so I am going to take the opportunity to do what I didn't in first year which is to read for pleasure. The more I find time to read, the happier I tend to be. The one hitch is that I obviously couldn't bring many books, and they are pretty overpriced here. Next time I go home, I will return with a case full of books, I think, and if not, it may be Kindle time. I'm just putting that out there...
5. Learn to make proper Italian food in a proper Italian way. I will never eat a ready meal lasagne again. 
6. Earn some money - Because while I arguably could live off the pitiful amount of money I have left when rent is gone, it would mean living like the old man in that Enid Blyton story where the old man lives alone and never leaves his house and all the kids are scared of him. Anyone else? No? But yes, cash = good, so I intend to find a way to earn some of it in a way that doesn't tie me down or make me just as antisocial as the old man in the aforementioned story. Any ideas would be welcome.
7. Find an Italian drink I actually like that doesn't make me a bit vommy - This one's pretty self-explanatory, but I'm not sure I'm willing to put the risky research in, so for now I'm still on the gin in my oh-so-British way. 
8. Go to one of the islands - Because they're warm and pretty. I nearly went to Cagliari instead of Rome. I'm glad I didn't, but I'd like to pay a quick visit to see what I'm missing nonetheless.
9. Go inside St Peter's - Just so I can get all angry at how rich and hypocritical the Church can be.
10. Master eating two big platefuls of pasta per day without gaining too much weight - I think jogging may be the answer. I brought my trainers in anticipation. 

Just because it would please me immensely if some of you got back into Dawson's Creek. I had forgotten just how dramatic it was!

i'll run my stick along the public railings and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

Women all over the world seem increasingly obsessed with ageing. We buy creams and lotions, botox and boobs in an attempt to postpone the arrival of wrinkles, and the start of our slippery descent into oldness. I like to think that when the time comes for me to get a bit fat and grey, I'll embrace it good-naturedly and be one of those cool old ladies who seem to model themselves on that poem about purple. Ageing is inevitable, and I think the following six ladies have done it very well indeed.

Number one - Anjelica Huston. I've been watching lots of Wes Anderson films lately with Miss Job, and I have decided that in order to be fabulous in life, I must dye my hair black, wear shit-loads of eyeliner, and somehow grow some incredible cheekbones. I'm not willing to do it quite yet, but as soon as I find grey hair, the whole lot is going jet black, Morticia Addams style. And if children run away from me in the streets, that's probably all to the good.

Number two - Anna Ford. Incidentally, I was named after this woman. The Guardian has dubbed her "glad to be grey, and still full of fire", and in spite of some of her indiscretions, I still think she has a lot of class.

Number three - Margaret Atwood. Because she writes like a dream, and she has such a cool voice. Her sense of humour is so dry and her hair is everything cool old lady hair should be.

Number four - Janet. Of Great British Bake-off fame. It's just finished, but if you didn't watch it, you should definitely find a way to watch it all illegally. This programme made my summer fly by with both its entertainment value and its ability to make me get in the kitchen and try new things. Undoubtedly, the star of the show was Janet - a sixty-something woman with the best facial expressions I think I have ever seen. Her haphazard, cheery attitude to baking (and to life) was nothing short of inspirational. I think if we were all a little more like Janet, the world would be all the better for it.

Number five - Joan Rivers. Because if the whole 'growing old gracefully' thing doesn't work for you, there is always the option of growing old disgracefully. And if Joan is anything to go by, that is just as much (if not more) fun.

Number six - Her Majesty the Queen. She is minted.

change of scene.

Because I had such a massive accidental break from blogging, the whole format of the 'Blogger' experience has changed, and it just took me approximately seven minutes to find the thing you click on to write a new post. I'm no computer scientist...

I got back yesterday from a lovely weekend in Sweden. Tom and I both just decided to fly to wherever was cheap for both of us, and we ended up in Gothenburg, which was a thoroughly lovely sort of place with clean streets and crisp air. I felt very brunette and rather demure in amongst all the super-chic, super-blonde, super-svelte Swedes (both male and female), whose sense of style was ever so cool, and who could definitely rock the long skirt/bicycle combo without getting all caught up in chain like us mere mortals. It was quite nice to be somewhere so cold - like a premature taste of winter, without being plunged unforgivingly into its clutches.

I think part of the reason I have hardly been writing lately is because I'm very aware that it's easy to sound quite pretentious when young, idealistic and (most importantly) living in Italy. So would you do me a favour please? If I'm beginning to sound self-righteous, please do give me a heads-up! Saying that, I am aware that blogging is in itself a pretty douchey thing to do, so maybe only tell me if I've got a bit ridiculous. Deal?

Just because she's Swedish and I love her a bit...

When in Rome.

Normally when I haven't written anything for a while, I start off with an apology, an excuse or a terrible joke to clear the air a little bit, but it's been such an inexcusably long time, that I think it may just be best to start afresh. I took some time off, because I was aware that I should probably make an effort to pass my exams, and actually enjoy my summer, so that's what I did. But hello, it's nice to be back!

A few things have changed since last we met. I'm living in Rome now, how about that? It's scary and beautiful and captivating. I love it, and I miss home, and I'm terrified, all at the same time. I've never really been the adventurous sort, but if there's one place to try it, it's probably here in the eternal city. 

Summer was great, and I got to spend it with all of the people I love (although nowhere near enough time with Miss Sarah Dixon who has been incredibly elusive. I don't think she likes me any more.) I ended up in Sussex with Thomas half the time, and in the Midlands for the rest, all of which was awesome. Home isn't so bad when you don't really have to be there. I even got on with my mother, which is really good. Greenbelt this year was a corker - I worked in the Performance Cafe again, and this year's team was even better than the last. I was really sad to say goodbye!

I also got the opportunity this summer to go to Budapest with Warwick Photosoc, which was a lot of fun. It's a beautiful city, with the added bonus of being pretty unspoilt and wickedly cheap! You should go if you get the chance!

So that's all from me for now, but as I am taking what is in essence a year's holiday in Rome, you can expect to see much more of me, because when you live in a city as good as this one, you inevitably sit in your room and do nothing quite a lot...

This song is absolutely my favourite at the moment. Can't take any credit though, it was all Tom...

are we sluts?

CRASAC is a Coventry-based charity which provides support and information for women who have experienced sexual violence. It was brought to my attention by my friend Jonny who knew I was moving to the area and thought that perhaps I would be able to get involved. Unfortunately, what with all the gin and all the procrastinating, I haven't got round to doing anything, but I follow them on Facebook, so I know that what they are doing is vital: ridding women of the shame that seems to follow sexual abuse. I am fairly sure that one day I will end up working for some sort of women's charity, because I can honestly think of no cause more worthwhile.

On a related note, Ken Clarke was a dickhead today. Now, this is nothing new. Ken Clarke is usually a dickhead, and usually I quietly seethe, but I could not let this go. If you don't already know, this all came about when in an interview, Clarke denied that "rape is rape", categorising rape into serious, and less serious offences. It has caused an outcry in the media, and amongst women's groups, and so it bloody well should! Not only did he imply that rape is only "serious" when violence is involved, but he also said that "rape has been singled out … mainly to add a bit of sexual excitement to the headlines". 


Sexual excitement. There are no words. 


All of this comes at a time when sexual assault has come to the forefront of our conscience through the various demonstrations or "slutwalks" taking place worldwide. In order to challenge the belief held by some that when women wear suggestive clothing, they are in some way asking to be assaulted, women across the world are embracing their inner slut by going on protest marches dressed in heels and non-existent skirts. 


This in itself has sparked much controversy, but in general, I am of course in favour. The idea that assaulted women should bear any of the blame for the horrible thing that has happened to them - that they have in some way brought it upon themselves - is repugnant. And this should be the case whether the girl in question is wearing next to nothing, or wrapped up in a shapeless duffel coat. Furthermore, these campaigns are not suggesting that women should go out alone at night dressed in next to nothing, just that ideally they should be able to. 


In the brilliant teen classic "Mean Girls", Tina Fey says (and I don't even have to look this quote up) that teenage girls "have to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call [them] sluts and whores", and there are certainly those who argue that these women are sending out the wrong message, and that by using the word "slut", they are somehow encouraging men to do the same. But then it is possible that the only way of lessening the impact of this word is by making it commonplace. It's such a horrible word because there is no real masculine equivalent. A male slut is christened a player - a word with oddly positive connotations. So really what we should be (and are) saying is - yes. I'm a slut. And what?


But is this alternative form of protest really empowering? Are women still not just making an impact and finding a voice the only way they know how; by taking their clothes off? And should we not be able to challenge misconceptions while covering up? Possibly, but at the end of the day, these brave young women are challenging and changing rape culture, which can only be a good thing. Because none of these steps taken can be seen as women just making a fuss, as feminism is often seen. Women will always be physically vulnerable to men, and unfortunately women will probably always be sexually assaulted, but the blame and the stigma of talking about it must be taken away.