Viva La Essex Girl!!

Question: Why does an Essex Girl wear knickers?
Answer: To keep her ankles warm.

Question: How do you know when an Essex Girl's been using a computer?
Answer: There's Tipp-Ex all over the screen

And in those two 'jokes' you pretty much get all you need to know about the girls from the fair county of Essex...at least according to TV producers, Nuts magazine and most of the rest of the population. Oh, the jokes I've heard over the years implying that because I was born in Essex I must either be a slag, really thick or both. It got worse after Jodie Marsh was 'discovered' in "Essex Wives" and even more horrendous after that stupid "The Only Way Is Essex" drivel was shown recently. I will confess to raising a wry smile at some of the jokes, but right now I'm making a stand. And not just because I've heard them all by now...

Why is it so bloody difficult to make a programme about Essex that doesn't show its residents as thick slags or those smug 'wide-boy' arses who make me want to scratch their precious Ford Cortina with my white stilettos? I'll be the first person to admit that we have more than our fair share of those two groups, but there are some phenomenally talented people from Essex who should make the county proud - you never see them on any of these shows! It makes me so angry - if you were to make a programme that deliberately conformed to the stereotypes of Muslims, for example, or the Welsh, you'd be shot, and yet it's ok to do it about Essex-ers? Enough is enough!!

We aren't just the county that gave the world Jodie friggin' Marsh and that muppet Scott from Five (for which, by the way, I heartily apologise. We had no right to inflict them on the rest of the UK...I also apologise for Noel Edmonds and, inadvertently, Mr Blobby). Dame Maggie Smith is an Essex Girl, as is Dame Helen Mirren; Sally Gunnell's a Essex Girl born and bred; hell, the leader of the Peasant's Revolt - a certain Mr Wat Tyler - was an Essex Boy, as is Bilbo Baggins (Sir Ian Holm) and the man who discovered antiseptic, Joesph Lister. Even old Fang-Boy himself, True Blood's Stephen Moyer, is one of us. And although he wasn't actually born here, the late, great Douglas Adams - the man who discovered the very meaning of life, for goodness sake (42) - moved here at the age of 5, as did Griff Rhys Jones. Goddammit, even Joan Sims was an Essex Girl!! We have brains in this county; brains and wit and hard graft and we're NOT all thick and useless!! We work hard, we play hard and we fight bloody hard for what we believe in, as Uncle Wat and Aunt Boadicea have inspired us to do. Essex folk, especially its women, are bloody fierce and I am fiercely proud to be from this county.

So the next time some smart arse makes some wisecrack about being an Essex Girl, I'm going to look back at the roll call of 'real' Essex Girls (i.e. not Jodie friggin' Marsh) and lift my chin with pride. We're NOT thick. We're NOT slags. We're fierce and beautiful and the only reason the rest of the world makes up jokes about us is because they're jealous and scared. And if it happens to you, my fellow Essex Girls, this is what you do. Channel Boadicea. Channel Dames Helen and Maggie. Conjure up the rebellious spirit of Wat Tyler and then skip away from the poor pathetic fool who has to joke about who and what we are, safe in the knowledge that, actually, we are utterly amazing.

And if you happen to be wearing white stilettos at the time - ironically or otherwise - so much the better...

Embrace your inner Essex Girl, people, and don't take others' opinions to heart. It's what Dame Maggie would do, and SHE, after all, is fabulous...

Crashing Back To Reality...

Finally. I feel vaguely human again after the battle to make the 50k on my Nano novel last month, and I actually managed to do it. Now all I need to do is finish the stupid story. Oh yeah, and get rid of whatever the hell it is that's currently making me feel like a walking corpse. Dear Santa, please send me a new body for Christmas. Preferably one that isn't falling apart from the inside out because, frankly, I'm bored of this now.

I'm sure there was supposed to be a point to this post but frankly it's escaped me now. Ho hum.

Right, back to the christmas list...not for me, sadly, but for other people. I don't know why I'm doing it; I'll not buy anything until Christmas Eve and then run around like a mad thing trying to ensure I don't miss anyone. Works like a charm...

Although, Santa, if you are reading this and want to put a little something under my tree: I appreciate that a new body is out of the question, but a pair of Vivienne Westwood Pirate boots and this dress http://candysays.co.uk/cream-and-brown-sprigged-1950s-shawl-collar-day-dress would be very kind of you.

And if you throw in burlesque lessons, I'll even sit on your lap...

On Board The Good Ship Friend...

...or in other words, I should have just called this 'on friendship' but I was being a smart arse.

I have the most amazingly wonderful friends in the entire history of the world. Seriously. My friends are better than your friends, and I know this because they are able to put up with me without wanting to strangle me with a sock. Or, if they ever HAVE wanted to strangle me with a sock, they've been awesome enough to keep it to themselves and never act on such an impulse. What can I say? My friends just rock.

Some of my friends I've known since forever, and it embarrasses me only slightly that they can still recall what I looked like at that school disco; bless them for their sweetness in never mentioning it. Others have fallen by the wayside but a very rare few are still hanging around. Quite WHY they're still hanging around I haven't entirely figured out, but it shows that I must be doing something right. I love you muchly.

Others I have only known for a couple of years or so, and this includes the mighty tribe of Forumbat, who are actually THE most awesome people you could ever hope to meet. Whenever I find myself in a down moment (which, lets be honest, isn't exactly a rare occurrence for a mardy cow like me), I just think of all the epic times I've had as a Forumbat and before you can say Robert is your mother's brother I'm laughing like a fool. Although apparently not everyone gets the joke and tends to look at you a bit oddly if the answer to their question, "er, what are you laughing at?" is the ecstatic response "squirrels with beards!!" What can I say, it's their loss...Anyway, I love you very muchly also and insist that you all remain as bonkers and brilliant as you are now.

However. Oh, but however. If there is one thing guaranteed to make me turn into a snarling, spitting, biting, scratching she-wolf (yes, one that's even worse than I normally am) it's anyone foolish enough to attempt to rain on my friends parades. I had fisticuffs in secondary school with a few people in defence of my friends and believe me, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. My friends are amazing people, for reasons that I couldn't even begin to list, but the main one is they put up with me and my madness and for that they deserve to be defended to the death. (Or possibly sectioned. Or a medal. Or all three). I can't stand it when my friends are unhappy, and although it's taken me a while to learn that sometimes I can't actually fix it and the best thing I can do is just be there for them, there's still an instinct inside me that makes me want to go charging into battle on their behalf. I fail to understand why anyone would want to do something to make any of my friends unhappy when they're such amazing people; it's complete anathema to me. I'm not saying they're perfect (sorry guys) because they're only human, after all, but actually they are pretty darn special and I pity anyone who can't see that.

So this is a friendly warning, a heads-up, a shot across the bows, if you will. If you are one of the foolish, foolish people who have ever dared to upset one of my friends, any of them, you better pray like hell to whatever-it-is you believe in that our paths never cross. Because let me tell you something, only one of us will walk away from the encounter unscathed and it won't be you. I can do things with plastic teaspoons that are hitherto unknown to man, so you better wise up and shut up if you want to keep walking the way you do. I don't intend to kill you, I'm not that soft, but you may well be left wishing I had. Don't say I didn't warn you.

And if you are one of my friends, especially the one who inspired this rant because of some morons pathetic opinion and complete lies, listen up because this bit is for all of you. I love you, I will always be there for you and even if I can't fix it I'll do my darndest to try. If all I can do is let you cry till snot dribbles all over my favourite jumper, it's a sacrifice I will gladly make. I won't even charge you for the dry cleaning. I can't fight your battles for you and I can't always provide the right answers, but even if all I can do is be at the end of a computer screen or a phone, I am here for you. We may argue, we may disagree over stupid things and I know for sure I'm not perfect, but I love you all and will cheris every single memory we've shared - even the not so great ones, where we fought over a boy in college or something equally stupid - until the day I die.

Thank you for being my friends and thank you for giving me so much love, laughter, inspiration, frustration, jealousy, pride and every other emotion possible. You are, quite simply, the best.

Love Kate xxx

On National Domestic Abuse Awareness Week...

Some statistics for you...

1) 1 in 4 women in the UK will experience domestic abuse at some time in their life, as will 1 in 6 men.
2) Every minute, a domestic abuse related call will be made to a police force somewhere in the UK.
3) Less than 40% of domestic abuse cases will be reported to the police.
4) On average, a woman will be abused 35 times before she first calls the police.
5) In 30% of domestic abuse cases, the abuse started during pregnancy.
6) At least 750,000 children a year witness domestic violence, which can cause them physical, emotional, psychological and behavioural damage.
7) On average, two women a week are killed by a violent partner or ex-partner.

Pretty shocking stuff, isn't it? Oh, I know domestic abuse is 'my thing' and that I'll willingly stand on my soapbox and rant about it to all and sundry, but I honestly think these stats speak for themselves. How is it that in the 21st Century, when Man has been to the Moon, for goodness sake, we can still be so backwards when it comes to dealing with domestic abuse?

The current and accepted Government definition of domestic abuse is: any incident of threatening behaviour, violence or abuse (psychological, physical, sexual, financial or emotional) between adults who are or have been intimate partners or family members, regardless of gender or sexuality. In both my professional and my personal life, I have seen the damage that domestic abuse can do to women and children, for it is mainly women and children who are the victims of this crime.

It is never acceptable.

It is never right.

This week is National Domestic Abuse Awareness Week, which culminates in the International Day for the Elimination of Violence and Women on Thursday 25th November. I know I go on about it. I know I rant about it. But you know what? Until every woman and child feels safe in their home and can live without the threat of domestic abuse hanging over their heads, I and many other people simply won't shut up. And so I am asking anyone who read this please, please sign the White Ribbon Pledge; men, to show that you won't ever commit, condone or keep silent about violence to women; and women, that you will support men who honour this pledge. Unless we stand together we will never stop it, and no one should ever have to live in fear of the person they love. I signed the pledge. Now I'm asking you to do the same, to show your support. If you do just one thing on the internet today, make it this.

http://www.whiteribboncampaign.co.uk/

Thank you.

Love Kate xx

Liberty...But Only Within The Strict Ordinances Of The Regime...

As those of you who know and tolerate me will know by now, I can be a teeny bit vocal when it comes to politics. More than one of you will have been subjected to one of my rants about the bunch of muppets that pass for our elected leaders these days, among various other diatribes, and no doubt some of you (or all of you) have disagreed with me about something. And while I still stand by the statement that the current Government are bunch of posh morons with nary an iota of common sense amongst them, I am profoundly grateful to them for one thing - that I live in a country where, if I want to protest about David Cameron's idiotic policies or say that actually I don't really give a monkeys about William and Kate's wedding thank you very much, I can do so without fear of being gagged, tortured or thrown into prison for it.

The reason for this blog post is something that I read in the Times today (I know - posh, right?) But it really struck a chord with me, especially in the wake of the long-awaited release of Aung San Suu Kyi in Burma, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991 while under house arrest for her unflagging efforts to bring democracy and human rights to that troubled country. This years Nobel Peace Prize winner-elect is Liu Xiaobo of China, another tireless campaigner for human rights in democracy in yet another troubled country. I say winner-elect because, if Mr Liu or a member of his family are unable to collect the prize, it may well not be awarded at all. Mr Liu is, however, in prison, his wife is currently under house arrest and the Chinese Government have just banned the rest of his family from travelling outside the country. Their crime? To attempt to bring democracy and basic human rights to a regime that point-blank refuses to acknowledge that such things exist. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 21st century...

What has made this even more bizarre, apart from the obvious fact of locking up someone who hasn't actually done anything wrong, has been China's response to the news. When Mr Liu's wife went for her monthly visit to the prison two days after the announcement and told him the good news, the authorities promptly had her locked up under house arrest. They have also accused the Nobel Committee of all kinds of shenanigans, and have even written to all the other nations asking them to boycott the event. Surprise, surprise, Russia are going along with their demands. *rolls eyes*

So what exactly did Liu Xiaobo actually DO to merit such treatment? Well, in the words of the Committee who have, despite the 'advice' of China, decided to award the prize, Mr Liu has been involved in "a long and non-violent struggle for fundamental human rights in China". He is currently two years into an eleven year sentence for 'subversion', whatever the hell that means, and co-wrote Charter 08, a document designed to promote political reform and human rights in China. It was for his involvement in this document that he was arrested, just a few hours before it was published, and many others who have signed this document have also been taken in and 'questioned'. All for trying to introduce to their country the same basic rights and dignities we in the Westernized world selfishly take for granted.

It's actually impossible to underestimate the bravery of this man, just as it's impossible to underestimate the bravery of Aung San Suu Kiyi. To try and save themselves from the embarrassment of having a Nobel prize winner in jail, the government of China have made Mr Liu an offer, one they've made to other 'awkward' prisoners in the past such as Wang Dan, the student leader of the demonstrations that eventually led to the outrageous massacre of Tianamen Square in 1989. If he will apply for medical parole and sign a 'confession', they'll release him from prison and he will be exiled from the country forever. But, like so many other brave men and women who exist under the oppressive regime in China, Mr Liu has refused to sign any such spurious confession, preferring instead to serve his sentence and stay in China in order to better serve his country.

Liu Xiaobo's courage, like that of so many others around the world, is humbling. Next time I complain bitterly about some ridiculous law of Government in this country, I shall do so with thanks to the Powers That Be that I can do so freely and openly, that I can join a protest march in London or petition against the leaders of the land; and I shall also think of Mr Liu in his prison cell, of Aung San Suu Kiyi as she adjusts to her freedom, and of the hundreds of thousands of other men, women and children across the world who don't have that right...