The Café

We next meet in the cold light of morning. My cup is sobering, your eyes less alive than they might have been before. We both smile, but with half a heart, half the heat, as if with a secret we don't whole-heartedly like to remember. Your laugh still wins me. Your gaze acts politer than when we really knew each other and it occurs to me- staring into your coffee- that while we both know I carry the quarantine of Not Happy it is only I who knows now that it is not you who can make me any otherwise.

Feminism?

A girl I know recently posted a photo of her own vagina on Facebook.
By doing this she may have (perhaps rightly) thought she was being feminist, that it would shock the world. She probably thought she was artistically demonstrating something along the lines of how invasive social networking is, and that by showing the world her vagina, she had nothing private left to offer, so to speak; her cards were all out on the table. Everyone can now see this shocking piece, marvel at the state of our society and debate where the ethical line should be drawn.

I just find it ironic, because she has 'deleted' me and has 'private' settings. I wonder if this means she cannot truly be an exhibitionist. I wonder if she would happily take her knickers off and show me her vagina in the street if I asked, or whether she has a select viewing list...

It annoys me that a lot of so called 'feminism' does absolutely nothing to aid female esteem.

Shit Expectations

When my dear old mother went to Cambridge University in the ‘70’s, there was a ratio of one female to every ten guys. Instead of watching Jeremy Kyle all day, she and her technology-free friends organised fun, charitable events with their college societies. At night they stayed up drinking port and “putting the world to rights”. No wonder my life is such a depressing concept to her…

In the marvellously hectic year of 2011, the student reputation is more typically similar to that of the sloth. We sleep, a LOT. We drink, a LOT. And the great majority of us do very little else. At the Brookes fresher’s fair I was a Keen-Bean and signed up to pretty much every society going (because who wouldn’t want all the free pens and lemons they can get?), but these days I don’t think I know anyone at Uni who holds the magical combination of: a) being part of a society; b) which regularly organises meetings; and c) which they actually regularly attend. Sure, there are a couple of successful organisations at Brookes, but it’s really rather pitiful compared to the Good Ol’ Days of Yore…

As much as my mother might disagree, this lazy, vegetative state we students find ourselves in is definitely not our fault. (At least, it makes me feel better to think so…). It is the fault of all the big, evil entertainment sources, such as Facebook, I-player and COD, which programme us into thinking we need and must have our quota of trash every day- and make us feel cheated if we don’t. I have my moments of guilt (“What am I doing with my life?! My biggest achievement in life will be getting on an episode of ‘Bargain Hunt’! What if I can’t even get on ‘Bargain Hunt’?!”), but then I remind myself that actually, it’s ok to sleep for 15 hours a day. When else in my life will I have the time and luxury to spend an entire day watching ‘24’ and toasting and eating an entire loaf of bread as an afternoon ‘snack’?

All this conservation of physical energy just means we can stay out longer at night, surely? To try and reach those expectations of the modern student to roll home half naked at 5am, covered in a combination of someone else’s blood and burger sauce? Pfft, give me some cheesy chips and a cup of tea, I say. It’s past midnight and I need to be up before 4pm tomorrow…

Written for The Afternoon View