The Atheist on the Bus goes Think Think Think...

Bus musing:

Since video games were first revealed to the public you had parent and religious groups going on about how they're graphically violent, even when they were nothing more than blurry pixels.

But I've just gone past a Catholic primary school with a really sad looking Jesus on the cross in the middle of the freakin playground! Now that and the whole story of the crucifixion is pretty gory, but you don't get parents kicking off about their kids being exposed to biblical story violence (unless they're atheists who don't want their kids exposed to religion).

Now correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure that religion has sparked more wars and mass shootings than bloody Minecraft.

Just a thought...

Thank You Body Form! #PeriodPride

(Some quarter to four musings about adverts)

Just seen the new (well I say new, first time I've seen it) advert for Body Form sanitary towels and I was actually really fucking impressed! No sarcasm, believe it or not, I'm actually praising something for once. Regular readers who enjoy rants may be disappointed but bare with me, there will be ranting about other sanitary products.

I currently can't find a YouTube link for the ad or any news articles on it but a little research has shown that Body Form are getting good on their adverts and steering away from the traditional shying away from menstruation that a lot of others tend to do. (I'll edit and add these in when I find them).

Like I say it's almost four in the morning, sat up watching telly before bed and the advert comes on the telly. I'm so used to seeing adverts for sanitary products and wanting to tear my fucking hair out!! Fair enough there has been a big move towards pseudo-feminist advertising of products aimed towards women/those in need of sanitary products/other femme products; however their main message is that you can only be an awesome, confident lady type IF you buy their products. While there's still a lot of this I'll finish that ramble and get into my main point.

This is the first advert where I've seen a sanitary product being USED.

Now some readers may recoil in horror here I don't mean used as in being bled on, I mean used as in being applied to underwear. It may seem silly but this is a big step forward, and a huge leap from that awful blue stuff that is always used in ads to show how absorbent something is. Seriously, why is it blue!? If your vagina is producing anything blue that you can't account for (example: this week I'd been wearing new jeans after their first wash and things got a little indigo in the knicker department) then PLEASE SEE A GYNO!!

It was just nice to see for a change that yes, those of us who have periods tend to get them in our underwear department (hard to believe I know!!). It was such a nice surprise that I actually had to rewind the TiVo and show my partner the bit where the pad is applied to the knickers. And that such an important part of the menstrual cycle isn't being overlooked.

Now there will be a part two to this on my issues with the majority of sanitary products - bleach, chemicals, the pharmaceutical side of it etc - but as it's just past 4 now I'll leave you on this nice one and go to sleep feeling a little better than I did earlier!

Sussex University: The Education and Justice System are Failing Women

 So many of you will have read about the horrific situation at Sussex University where senior lecturer Dr Lee Salter was allowed to continue teaching until media inquiries began coming in about him. The inquiries were made regarding his relationship with a student and the abuse she faced from him. When I saw this I doubt I was alone in my first reaction containing liberal use of the words 'fuck', 'fuck sake', 'fucking hell' and 'are you fucking serious?'. It made me sick to my stomach. I cried with anger. I screamed in frustration. 

 It's 2016, why was this allowed to happen?

 Salter received a six month sentence, suspended for eight, and given the extent of her injuries it further added to the mind fuck that is this case. He was in a position of power both inside and outside of the classroom, he actively made the choice to abuse this power, he actively made the choice to abuse Allison Smith. A six month sentence that he will most likely not serve doesn't even put a dent in justice for her. 

 Something else that occurred to me though, while reading about similar cases, is how prevalent a trend this is. Campaigns by police encouraging people to come forward and report domestic violence, politicians making promises that there will be help and support for victims and survivors; when cases like this make headlines - they only make up a small fraction of cases of domestic violence - it cuts through this rhetoric and exposes those promises for the steaming piles of horseshit they are. We are angry, really fucking angry, that a) in the 21st century we still have to protest and shout about this shit and b) a higher education institute, a place of learning, somewhere that is meant to be progressive and at the forefront of fighting against these issues is enabling a fucking abuser. They are allowing him to teach in an environment with potentially vulnerable young people, where he has easy access to young people to manipulate and exploit. And the fucking cherry on the top  of this shitcake? They're paying NINE FUCKING GRAND A YEAR for this, and he is being PAID for the pleasure of this.

(Fuck) The Education System

 By keeping him on with a violent criminal conviction they are sending a message to (mostly) women students that higher education is not a place for them. That their fees are being used to keep him there, allowing the university to say "look at what a good lecturer we have, your safety is secondary to us being able to show him off". Myself and others who have been involved with Student Union campaigns against intimate partner violence and domestic violence, through our institutions and nationally through the NUS, are blue in the fucking face and sick to the back teeth of shouting about this as an issue; yet normally we focus on on-campus, student-against-student violence. But violence from a lecturer against a student is a new one for many of us. Where is the statement from the UCU about this? Where is the outrage? It took 3,000 people signing a petition for the university to finally cave and for this bastard to lose his job.

 Think of it this way: if they had been 'just friends', or 'just student and teacher', and he committed the acts he did against here what would the public reaction be? What would the judicial reaction be? Would he be behind bars (where he belongs) for grievous bodily harm? Very probably. Would the university have kept him as a lecturer? Fuck NO! He'd be a risk to students. Oh wait... But because they were in an intimate relationship did that make it less serious? The old approach of 'a private matter', 'a lovers' tiff'? This is by no stretch of  the imagination me placing any blame on Allison because she was in a relationship with a lecturer, this is me being so fucking angry that the charge was likely a lesser one because they were intimately involved.

The (In)Justice System

 This brings me onto part two of my rant, primarily about his sentence. It also goes back to 2014 when I was assaulted by a man on the Metro, along with several others he attacked that day. the case came to court in May 2015 (swift justice, my arse). For a month spent doped up on painkillers for a shoulder injury, what were probably hundreds of calls to the police to see how the case was progressing, and a fear of using the Metro alone which still stands to this day (I'm much better at it now, I need a sticker :) ), myself and the others received.... £50 compensation each. He received that fine and probation. We received trauma and anger. He is free, more so than the lasting effects have left me feeling.It's not fair.

 In my second year of university I took a module called Gender, Crime and Justice; the content covered everything from women as victims of crime to women who commit crimes, the types of crimes, and the punishments they receive. The course was taught by Pam Davies, she's extremely experienced in the field of gender and the criminal justice service, it was one of my favourites of the year. What left me gobsmacked was the types of crimes women tend to be prosecuted and imprisoned for. The most recent statistics reveal that women make up less than 5% of the total UK prison population (at the time of this post this stands at 3,898 out of 85,188 - August 2016). While these figures erase Trans* and Non-Binary offenders it does show the staggering difference in prison population makeup. Fraud, theft and drug charges make up the most common types of offences committed by women in prison, with only 19% of women in prison are there for violent crimes. 

 Could somebody please justify to me how there are over 3,000 women in prison for non-violent crimes, yet men like Lee Salter are allowed - by law - to continue having their freedom. Now some may argue that the media backlash against him, losing his job blah blah blah may indicate that he's lost some of his freedom, despite not being in prison. But really? He is an abuser who is allowed to carry on roaming the streets, having the freewill and agency that he wouldn't behind bars, and not living in fear of, well, people like himself.



 By this point I feel absolutely done, it's times like this I want to just stop the planet and get off. It's further evidence to support switching off 2016, waiting ten seconds, turn it back on and see if that helps. Neither of these solutions will do any good/actually happen unless space travel hurries its arse up and becomes a lot cheaper. It's totally understandable to see these examples, drop out of activism and move to a remote island populated by only flamingos. But I don't think I could take the smell of bird poo for that long, so for now I'm going to clear my head (what most of this post was), take a good few deep breaths and do everything in my power to make sure that cases like this are not overlooked or blindly accepted as the justice and education systems doing their best ever again.



 Now somebody pass the gin!!

Bitch in the Kitch: Cooking Therapy and Self-Love

 Welcome back! After another (though slightly shorter than last time) hiatus I'm back to the bloggersphere, I did warn you folks! As has been mentioned in previous posts my mental health hasn't been great but it's certainly on the up at the minute. It's a bit like a seesaw, normally with the kid on one end having rocks in their pockets. At the minute though I think both kids have stopped and are just chilling, chatting and eating cake on there - with the odd wobble up or down. Anyway, glad to be back.

 Some of you probably already know that I'm quite a big foodie, I love everything from cooking it to eating it. And this might come as quite a surprise, but it's actually a common thing for those of us with/in recovery from eating disorders/distress to enjoy making food for various reasons; be it feeling we have control over food, control over our bodies through that, and/or loving ourselves and nourishing ourselves in the recovery process. I find that there's something therapeutic about following a recipe and making something delicious. I love the structure of recipes, almost in a way of being given instructions, otherwise I can get a bit panicky and edgy; recovery is a long (again) seesaw-y process and I'm still at the stage of needing to know EXACTLY how much and of what I'm putting into food. The kitchen has always felt like a safe haven for me. It's where I first learned the joy of making things with my hands, making play doh with my Mam, and baking and cooking as a child, the feeling of eaten something I'd created (yes, I may have had a few nibbles on the play doh...). It's where I'd first drink with my friend and her Mam in their kitchen, enjoying Saturday nights as a teenager giggling over wine and discussing the world ahead of us. It's where I feel I do my best for my partner; I may have my shortcomings but I'll always say I'm a damn good cook and being able to feed people I love brings me a lot of happiness, leaving me feeling whole and refreshed.

 While looking for something yummy to cook for myself and Paulobear I found myself on Cooking On A Bootstrap, the website of the incredible Mx. Jack Monroe featuring delicious recipes interspersed with political and social justice activism, I'm such a huge fan of them!!  Their writing is so poetic and relatable, and at the same time so accessible and non-threatening. Admission time: I've grown up always being told what a clever girl I am, yet at the same time I feel like a total, total fraud because I struggle with a lot of words; not the spellings or pronunciations of them but the meanings. I often end up feeling embarrassed in conversations when unknown words come up, so I'll either keep my head down and keep quiet, or feel like a muppet and ask what it means while thinking they must think I'm ridiculous. Or secret option number three: slyly Google a word, worry I look ignorant for looking at my phone instead of paying attention, then continue to berate and shame myself for not knowing the word. Getting back to the topic at hand though!

 I came across a delicious looking recipe today that I will be making for tea tonight, and not only do I have all the ingredients to hand (including fresh kale from my Grandma and Granddad's garden!!) it was so beautifully written that I just had to share it with you folks. Very aptly titled Self-Love Stew one part particularly stood out to me:

"The stirring is key. It is soothing. It is mindless, not mindful. Sod mindful. My mind is full enough. It is a minefield. Tonight I want to stir some stuff and stare at my hands or into nothing."

 It isn't written as a traditional recipe but it's more or less a much better alternative (for me personally, and most likely others of you out there) to guided meditation. I'm so fed up with being told I need to be more mindful, I find the whole concept difficult to grasp and apply to myself, so such advice on mindfulness and exercises to become 'mindful' etc stress me beyond what I already had been. It creates a feeling that I'm failing at mental health recovery, that I'm even rubbish at trying to get better. 

 Looking at cooking and eating as a way of showing care to myself and others has also been an incredibly helpful tool in my mental health and more specifically eating distress recovery, rather than food being a way to control and punish myself. And while I now and then get the odd stupid comment along the lines of "hahaha, you're a rubbish feminist! Being in a kitchen and looking after a man hahaha *tips fedora*" I find it to be the exact opposite. Using it as a tool to look after myself and making myself a better person to be around, I've never felt like a better feminist.

 A huge thank you to Jack Monroe for their wonderful recipe and their general being wonderful-ness, you are an incredible human being!!

 Much love, this Bitch is off to the Kitch! xx

The Bitch is Back!!

Guess who's back bitches!?

Yes it's been a while, and you may have noticed a name change - bit of a does what it says on the tin sort of thing ;)

Mental health has been kicking my arse lately so I'm doing my best to kick back. Currently in a field in Derby watching Rammstein so I'm a pretty happy bunny (and drunk off my arse). More to follow, big loves!! <3

Look What My Clever Friend Made!! Facebook Chats With Women (with sneak preview)

Morning all! (Well, it was morning when I started writing this post.) Thank you so much for the feedback on Facebook to yesterday's post, it was really interesting and refreshing to hear all of the mixed opinions and thoughts from men/masculine identified folk on how they'd feel about getting flowers. Overwhelmingly a lot would love to, though some would prefer potted plants or food (I can't help but agree on the food front); I'll be doing a more detailed follow up post to it next week but this morning I thought I would give a special shout-out to my amazing, amazing bridesmaid Clara.

 I met Clara back in 2011 when I was speaking at a meeting for Newcastle Uni's Feminist Society, their first meeting of the semester. I'd organised the first Newcastle SlutWalk in June of that year (many thanks to Clara Shield of Little Big Butterfly for the video, one of my early feminist mentors!) and being only 16 at the time of organising the march and 17 when speaking at the meeting, I'm not ashamed to admit that I was a little intimidated - not by the people but the situation. Being so young I felt a bit insecure about my views and didn't feel as 'qualified' to speak about feminism as women who were older than me. I know now that I had no reason to be nervous or insecure but when you spend your childhood always second-guessing yourself and, as a woman, socialised to not feel so assertive about your opinions then it becomes a natural thing to do. Needless to say they were wonderful and welcoming, I met so many fantastic people through the FemSoc but Clara especially.

This lovely lady right here <3

 I stammered and stuttered my way through what I had to say (again, a hangup from childhood) and listened intently to the discussion that followed. At the end of the meeting the young woman sitting next to me, with curly hair and a lovely smile tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I knew somebody from her course - it turned out I did! I'd went on the student walk-outs the previous year with him; we got to chatting and after that frequently ran into each other at meetings and other feminist events, bonding over left-wing politics, DIY feminism and our love of riot grrrl. I think the solidifying moment of our friendship was walking back to Heaton from the Star and Shadow cinema on the day of the infamous MonToon, laughing hysterically despite the rotten weather, with soggy socks and shoes that had been dried out because of the walk there on top of the cinema projector. Fast forward a few years of coffee, wine, more laughter and self-care and Clara landed her dream job working for a publishing company in London. I was thrilled for her but utterly grief-stricken that she was leaving Newcastle. Despite the distance our friendship is as strong as ever and I always look forward to our phone calls and visits.

"Of course we can smash the patriarchy with lipstick, what else would we do with it?"

 This morning Clara surprised myself and our friends Nina and Martine with a sneak preview of a Zine she's been working on to present at...(wait for it)...WEIRDO ZINE FEST! For those of you in London or are able to travel there for the event the details can be found here. It's the first solo project she's finished and sent to print and I was completely blown away by it. An 11 page laugh-riot 'Facebook Chats with Women' looks at the self-deprecation we do as women, doubting what we say and feeling guilty for saying it, exploring the issue in a fantastically funny way and encouraging the validation we give to each other, as well as nudging us to validate our own feelings more often in a funny, friendly and relatable way. All of the quotes are taken from chats with friends and looks at the wonderful things women say to build each other and ourselves up, with a little dash of existential crisis sprinkled in!

 And now for a sneak preview...

Not only is she an awesome human being but she's an incredible artist too.

 So if you're in London on January 31st GET YOURSELF TO WEIRDO ZINE FEST and pick up a copy of Facebook Chats With Women. I can tell you now that you'll have nothing better to do that day.   

 And if you can't wait until then for more of Clara's wonderful witticisms then follow this lovely gem on Twitter @claraheathcock

A Belated Happy 2016...and smashin' those Gender Norms (TL,DR: getting a bloke flowers)

 Happy New Year dear readers! We're only what, two weeks into it so this is quite good timing for me. I've been trying my best to keep busy around the house so for once it's in a fantastic state, I'm rather proud of myself. Depressions and anxiety can really get in the way of keeping your living space tidy, you don't want to get out of bed let alone do anything productive yet at the same time you panic about getting everything done, what people will think of the state of your home, how miserable it's making you being in such an untidy environment...it's a vicious cycle. But since New Year I've felt fantastic, staying on an up-spell for a whole fortnight does come with the panic of "when will I be back to being miserable? oh dear, oh dear", but I'm doing my best not to think that way and just enjoy the positivity. It's the happiest I've felt in about six months.

Clear house, clear head!

 Now, down to business...

 My relationship seems to be the best it's been for a while too, probably to do with me feeling better about myself; I love Paul unbelievably but I'm sure many of you with similar conditions also find it hard to appreciate your partner when you feel awful about yourself, and generally feeling not much fun to be around. So since I've been feeling better about myself I've started putting more work into my relationship. It got me thinking too: What little romantic gestures would really make me smile? Then it hit me.

 I've only gotten flowers twice in my life, once from my Dad and once from Paul after he scared me; we'd just gotten the landline installed and he rang up after he finished work, putting on a creepy Gollum voice. It really freaked me out and I may have cried a little bit, so I rang his mobile in hysterics to tell him about the creepy guy that'd just been on the phone. Bad Paulo! But these were totally unprompted, no scaring involved, and I made a cute little card later in the week which I slipped into his jacket pocket before he left for work the next morning. 

 It can be hard to keep a relationship fresh after nearly five years. You can both get a bit lazy, it's something Paul and I are both guilty of but we're both working to turn that around. We're working on having at least one night a week just for the two of us, sort of a date night. Simplicity is a good starting point too, a hug and a 'how was your day?' to a coffee and a cuddle and small acts that build towards bigger things and keep that bond strong.

 Now, going back to the flowers. Out of interest I thought I'd google "getting a guy flowers", just to see what the current status-quo consensus on it is. Two of the top results were 'What gifts for men are equivalent to flowers for women?' on Reddit and 'Help! What's The Man-Friendly Equivalent of Sending Flowers?' from Glamour.com, containing the quote "Of course you can send guys flowers, but I just feel like they don’t appreciate them the way the ladies do." and a link to a delightful sounding article titled "Want to Know What Blow Jobs and Flowers Have in Common?. To save your poor face from the palming it would get I've read the second article for you: apparently you're not allowed to ask for either. *pause here to make a cuppa and calm down/shout to your partner/housemate/pet about how stupid this is*. 

 Just NO! No on all of those fronts. The look on Paul's face when I gave him the flowers was one of gratitude. Other articles I've looked at seem to say that the only acceptable time to send a man flowers is as a Get Well Soon or other non-romantic gesture, why?? They look nice, they smell nice, they really brighten up a room and draw the eye away from any clutter lying around. If a guy likes flowers why not send them? There's nothing 'feminine' about things that look or smell nice, and even if there was then what's wrong with feminine things!? It doesn't make them weak or soppy, in my eyes if you dismiss and dislike something on the grounds that it's feminine then you really don't have much respect for women.

 And as for asking I don't see what's wrong with that either, I asked Paul if he'd maybe get me flowers sometime and he asked the same from me - reciprocation is necessary in relationships! How else will you know what your partner likes?

 And yes, please apply the above advice to blow jobs too.


UPDATE:

 Just thought I'd include this as proof that I'm not putting words in Paul's mouth ;)

 And I'm very angry at this God bloke at the minute too, he really needs to work on his aim. He can't keep going after every 69 year old until he gets Trump. He better stay the hell away from Tim Curry! RIP Alan Rickman <3