Life, as we know it, is over.

I was told if I got a degree in an Arts/Humanities subject from a 'red brick' university that upon graduation, I'd have the world at my feet and a £30k job waiting for me.  I think I must have got off at the wrong stop cos' it's definitely not here.  Ahh fret not, a little bit more hard work, a touch more knocking on doors and probably a whole lot more of unpaid work (fear not I can afford it, pah!) and I'll find my way in the world.  I can't decide who's to blame, what do you think?  The Labour government have just announced plans to cap tuition fees at £6000.  This is still double what I paid.  £9000 I just couldn't understand, and £6000 just doesn't really seem much better.  I can't work out, how they work out, that we'll work out a way to afford such astronomical figures.  That's the royal 'we'. 

I think it catapults Higher Education into an untouchable realm for many; not only in monetary terms.  It casts over the idea of attending university a 'dark shadow of unattainability'; those who have the intellect but not the background and/or bank balance.  It may push out a huge chunk of talent.  And not everyone's talents will be realised in school or in another area of work.  The doctor who finds the cure for cancer may be from a rough estate in *insert the name of somewhere a bit grim* who because of the rise in tuition fees and the connotations this allows, never pursued his/her aptitude for science by applying to study medicine at university.  I'm ignorant as to the loan process in place, but what I do know is that even if it's fan-flippin-tastic, it may not manage to compete with the 'dark shadow of unattainability' which the idea casts over university for some young people. 

When I was at university, and the idea was being discussed, a Dean (of Newcastle University) remarked that he was surprised at all the uproar surrounding discussion of a rise in tuition fees because '£9000 was far less than their parent's will have paid for their school fees'. OH MY.  Firstly, aside from tax and buying my uniform, my secondary education was free.  As was my primary education.  Most likely because my parents weren't in a strong enough financial position to afford to pay for me to be privately educated.  Shit.  I thought that was the case for most of us wasn't it? Foaming doesn't even come close.  Fizzing might come closer. Just how ignorant. And really how rude to disregard those in secondary education as the minority at university level.  I was pretty pissed off.

It's quite sad really.  Blue will be blue though ey.  Good job Red have caught on, a little... perhaps. 

Time for a gin.

Smile & Be Fabulous

I think the most successful people in life; home, work, social, are surely the ones who smile the most. Glass half full types.  Miserable arses - get little or nowhere because eventually someone will realise that they're really just a miserable auld moose. 

Today, for example, I was in Pret A Manger for my usual (white filter, 99p, no nonsense) and sat down to read Lindsey Kelk's 'I Heart Paris'.  It's a political commentary on Parisian ... no it definitely isn't; it's pure indulgent fabulous chick lit. Judge away haters.  So I had a bag or two, (eight) and was shuffling towards a window seat, muttering my apologies, and someone tutted.  I stopped.  I turned.  And then I saw ... middle to old age, woman, her style left a lot to be desired, and it had definitely come from her.  The tut that is.  So I made a point of, sweetly, without a hint of sarcasm, offering a direct apology to her.  I probably hadn't even touched her she was just obviously the sort of woman who's day went by a bit quicker is she spread her venom around town.  And, you know, it just made me think... how can some people go through an entire day occupying themselves with being a miseryyyy?

I make a point (I understand this would not wash in London) of smiling at people if I pass them at a reasonable proximity in the street. Complete strangers that is.  I mean, I wouldn't be waving to folk I didn't know on the other side of the road but say you pass someone, and you both make brief eye contact, why not smile? It's polite.  It might even make yours or the other persons day.  To share in a wee bit of humanity.  And a smile is universal - no matter what language you speak, a smile is a nice, warm hello.  So come on people, crack a smile eh. 

Time for a gin. 

The Arrogance of Pigeons

I remember a time, a simpler time, when should you approach a pigeon in the street it would make a spectacularly hasty exit from your path. This is no more. And what's worse; they're also bigger.

Today, I was walking up Northumberland St on my way to Marksies.  They were bloody everywhere. Not only do they no longer scatter as you approach them, meaning you have to WALK AROUND them, but they are also swooping at such a low height that I found myself screeching and ducking more than once.  And as I did so I wondered, when did pigeons become so arrogant?

It's as if the big guns of the pigeon world have moved in; after years of pandering to our human needs to own the pathway the Don is passing the message on to rebel.  It cast my mind back to 2000 when Ken Livingstone, then mayor of London, removed the Trafalgar Square bird food seller’s licence and uproar ensued.  Even at the time, age 13 living however many miles away in Tyne and Wear, I remember wondering what all the fuss was about and being a little bit relieved since I so hated these 'flying rats'.  I think I imagined them all starving and being wiped out within no time.  Quite the opposite has occurred in fact! They're multiplying, shuffling around eating left over pasties, swooping low, inciting fear and now with an arrogance akin to one of those hoodie kids the Daily (f)Mail talk about.  They'll be signing on next. 

I wonder sometimes where this hatred has stemmed from, my Grandad used to race them, surely they should encourage some nostalgia from me instead of such irritation and disgust?  Well, no they haven't quite managed it yet.  Saying that, I think those photos of folk in the middle of say Trafalgar Square or somewhere in Paris where they're in the middle of a hord of pigeons, some of whom are mid flight, can be quite, well nice really.  Trouble is, I'd never be able to pose for one of these.  It's like, literally, my worst nightmare.  I'm constantly making a fool of myself screaming at them in the street.  This one time a child, I'm sure I saw a faint '666' on his forehead, ran at a pigeon and it pretty much flew straight into my face.  I was lucky the tip of my nose and its arse hole didn't become more well acquainted such was the close proximity of that encounter.  Worry not; I made it spectacularly clear to both child and his mother how unimpressed I was by dashing into HMV to recover. 

So there you have it; my first blog post and a justified attack on pigeons.  Time for a gin.