I’m just gunna say it how it is

This will be a post that not many will agree on. They may be just as many, hopefully more that will agree with me on. Let’s hope you are enlightened people. I hope you are. If not, well that’s sad. I want to tell you to kinda of fuck off then… but I won’t, because I believe that you have a right to have an opinion… but people with the wrong opinions, well I don’t like you. I really don’t like you.

Abortion is a right. A fucking right. Your right to picket abortion clinics? No. Shut the fuck up. Write an angry letter to your political official. Start an angry blog. Hey, write your own suicide note in your own blood telling the world how you feel these women are murdering babies. Go on. Do that. In your own home. But don’t make a hard decision harder. You can’t understand until you’ve been in that situation… you can emphasise of course. No one wants to be in a situation like that, but sometimes you make a mistake, something goes wrong. But hell, I don’t want to bring a child into a world where I can’t buy clothes for it. Can’t afford to feed it. I want that child to have everything I didn’t have and more. Your child is the embodiment of the love you have for someone else, or maybe is this being you created out of pure love. That’s a child. You want its happiness. How is bringing a child into a world where all it will know is sadness, poverty and discomfort? I don’t want that. I don’t even want that for my enemies. Do I want children? Sure. I’m an only child. I grew up alone. I like being alone, but I wished as a child for someone to play with. I wish I had a big brother to protect me when I fuck up. I want someone to be there when my parents die, and hold my hand because they understand. But I’m alone. So that’s probably why I act strong. Some say bitchy and outspoken… maybe. But I also know deep down, that I came into this world alone… and I will die alone, so I pick myself up when everything seems to fuck up around me. I want a child, because one day, maybe I’ll be so in love with someone, that I want to create something with that person… a little someone that will one day find a love of their own. Because I know that when I find that someone, and I’ll look into their eyes, they will want the same thing from me. But it will be a choice. Because a child is sort of having a tattoo on your face… you have to be bloody sure you want it. There’s sort of no “backsies”. And that’s why abortion is important. The right to decide when you create this being, and with who. Sometimes you make a child, and you fall out of love… that happens. But that child was created, hopefully at a time of love… sure there are exceptions… there are those people who don’t care. They make babies coz they don’t know what else to do. Maybe it’s expected of them. Who knows. But the right to say no, as a woman is my choice. Sex is fun. No, with the right person, the right chemistry. It’s flipping amazing… but I don’t want to live in fear that every time I am with a guy a baby might be created. Use a condom… go on the pill… whatever works for you. But sometimes mistakes happen. It brakes. You forgot. You may be raped. Who wants to bring up a rapists baby? Have a constant reminder of a horrible moment in your existence? Who wants a father who is an unknown rapist? No one. No one can live with that.

Bringing a child into a world or an environment that is not ready, is not “saving a child”… it’s actually selfish… because you have brought a human being into a world that it won’t thrive or grow in. If you have every read any of Darwin’s books, you will be familiar with his world changing theory of evolution (which isn’t just a theory, it’s fucking reality “SAY NO TO CREATIONISTS YOU MORONS”… and yes I’m looking at you America!)… which means you know all about natural selection. Natural selection is technically no longer applicable to humans, owing to advances in medicine, but it still works on a social and anthropological level. Why do people who start life in richer families generally succeed better? (there are obviously exceptions, I mean look at Albert Camus for starters, but there are many… but rarer). With money, sadly comes opportunities. With opportunities, comes better schools, education, travelling… etc. it opens the child to a better job… a broader mind… better access to food and healthcare etc. This isn’t always true, but it is undeniable that it is a major factor. But it helps. So, if I take myself as an example. I’m a 25 year old student. I finish my studies in about a year and a half. I don’t have a job. I have a small flat. I can barely look after myself… let along a tiny human being. When I want a child, I want to be able to buy it nappies. Food. Whatever. I want it to go to a good school. Get a great job. Meet someone that makes them laugh and smile. I want them to be happy. Can I make a child happy now? Nope. So yes, if I get pregnant now. I’m having an abortion. Yes it hurts. Yes I don’t want to have to make that decision, but if I have to I will… because abortion isn’t murder. Abortion is about making the right choice at the right moment. Bring a child into a world that it can thrive in. Because unlike animals, the weak ones don’t just die… they poison your whole life. It’s sort of like being born with a thorn in your foot. You can still walk, but it fucking hurts. Being born to someone who can’t give a child all it needs, is the same. It won’t always thrive, it will eventually sort of go gangrenous and won’t be the best it could be. It takes someone who is born into hardship to say fuck you and pick themselves up. Look at the people who are born with too much money, or too much love and fuck up because they don’t have the fear to pick themselves up and sort themselves up. Life is about balance. It’s about trying your best to be the best you can, not just for you, but for the people you love and respect.

 

So, make the right choices… because that’s sort of what life is about. But it’s your life. So you make the choices that are the best for you. Don’t attach a rock to foot and jump into the deep end. Jump into the water with armbands on. It’s better to float than sink.

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I dedicate this post to CB. Who always talks to me straight. No bullshit. And who always makes the best choices, even when I can’t, they aways give me the benefit of the doubt, and doesn’t judge me when I do go down the wrong road. Thanks.

Punishment

I don’t believe in god, I’m more agnostic than anything at all. But I swear, someone somewhere is punishing me. The bells! The fucking church bells today are going crazy!

I stayed in last night. I ordered a pizza and a can of coke and thats it. I watched a documentary about an american serial killer and then a girlie movie (Eat, Pray, Love). You may be wondering that the serial killer documentary + girlie movie + pizza = weird combo, but I feel that for balance, you need to not subscribe to social and gender roles. So yes. I’m a girl. I like to wear make-up, put on pretty dresses and watch crappy movies about “finding love” and shit, but then I also like to dress in my trampy clothes, sit on a smelly rock and listen to people jamming around a fire, while holding a burning marshmallow. I also really enjoy doing boy things, like playing computer games and drinking (“sans” farts, that’s going too far for me, so is burping. It’s never funny). Except I’m really shit at all the new computer games. I really miss the ones on the SEGA or Dreamcast. I mean, you didn’t have to be good to play Street Fighter or Sonic, you just had to press loads of buttons and see what happened. I can’t fecking play the Wii. I can’t get that whole balancing thing. I wobble and fall off something, and I lose. Plus all the new games you have to get off your arse and dance, and punch or swat things. I though the point of computer games (at least when I was young) was to sit on your hungover arse, sipping diet coke and munching on Wotsits (it’s sad, that is something I really want for my birthday. I swear, I love moving to different countries and stuff (Canada hopefully in 2/3 years) but sometimes you miss the taste of things. I don’t even remember the taste of Wotsits. They probably are shit, but I just don’t remember how shit they are!).

Anyway, missions of the month is to redesign my friends band logo, I need to start that properly but I have been busy resigning my CV and redesigning my business cards (they are fucking wicked, I wish I could have created a hologram version, but I don’t have a 3D printer, but I swear, this is kind of a paper version of a hologram, and amazing because I made them, and I’m a great artist).

Ive also started a new Moleskine, I was planning on giving it to someone as a gift, but then I was like, nah who cares. I love my Moleskines. They are like my private little world. I mean, you get to pour out your thoughts into a little leather bound book, and when you look through it, it reminds you of a time and a place. I mean, I have tons of them already, hidden away in boxes. Some full of thoughts, some shopping lists, holiday notes, photos, etc but each one is individual. Private. It’s like a slice of your brain, that you hide away. No one ever gets to read them, because you feel like it’s that private. You may I suppose share it with that one special person. But that’s about it.

–

I need to get a pet. I kinda want either a small dog or a hairless cat. Everyone thinks hairless cats are horrible, but I think they are so weird and kinda stoic. Anyway, I can’t afford one anyway, coz they cost about one thousand euros, so unless I get one for my birthday (here’s hoping! Praying to god as we speak!) OR someone randomly is giving them away for free (very unlikely)… I have more chance of getting a HAIRY cat (although I prefer Dogs…).

I could always get a stick insect. But I feel as though we would not be able to interact very well together.

Artistic innit?

To be honest, I don’t really consider myself an artist… more like some knob who creates stuff no one cares about. I’m posting this one (for once, I never post on public sites my artwork), because it’s not very personal, and mr T is in it (not that he knows this of course). It’s an homage. I wanted him to be part of an art piece without him knowing, so now he is a published author too (except he won’t be paid, although, neither am I, so I think we’re equal… here’s hoping he didn’t copy right that photo… which as a by the by isn’t great quality (note to self tell him, if he ever talks to me again, how to use the adjustments on his camera) but who cares, he is part of it. Cool eh!? Even if you said no I wouldn’t give a rats ass.

Enjoy!

(p.s. The story talks a lot about booze. Just in case you thought I was an alcoholic, I just had the results of a blood test and my alcohol levels are good, and, YESSSSSSSS are low too. So screw you metabolism! I can drink like anyone’s business!)

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I know. I know.

I have to say, I am feeling rather on the apathetic side today, but I shall stroll through that part of my brain, and go straight to the... Roxy, you are dead cringe now. You're 24. Stop acting like a 12 year old who has a crush on one of the Westlife fellas (can't believe I just wrote "fellas". I will admit, it seems the kind of word that sits quite well next to the band Westlife). Anyway. I have a crush. I know. Shock Horror. Me. Me? Yes. Yes I know. Me. The cringe factor is that I am really shy when it comes to my feelings. I think I don't like really telling people how I feel about a person (whether in a friendly or in a "I like you where it smells funny" kind of like (to quote the Bloodhound Gang (first time they have probably EVER been quoted to be honest anyway)). In any case, I don't know the guy per say (he's in my school, 4th year student... and before you start shouting ERRRRR OLDER MAN... I'm the same age as him, I just had to do 2 degrees first), but he did give me a tour of the school (ok, not personally... but well, it felt like it). He isn't really my type (if I were to define my type anyway) but he has something about him which I find... intriguing? (now I feel like I'm in a Jane Austin book... swoon swoon... (argh)) but to be honest, I feel that really he is hot hot hot... and fuck it, yes I'm going to say it. He's hot with two t's. Usher had it right. It's "hott" in here. I'm not going to say anything about him, safe to say he probably has no idea I exist, and I am actually capable to changing direction in order to avoid him (see, told you. This is the reaction of a 12 year old). Unless I am super drunk, and let's be honest, I am never really drunk... I probably won't say anything. I've only ever asked one guy out... didn't turn out great (I'll briefly mention that he is not talking to me at the moment... I think he's too embarrassed. This is a guy we will call X (original? Yes I think so!) (i digress sorry), all my friends think he is super weird and dodgy (but we have been friends for 5 years on and off, he pisses me off). And we have messed around, but I'm not like that. So yeah. Anyway, never liked him, started to have feelings and he started to be weird. My friends personally feel he's chicken. Or doesn't know what he wants. Well I ain't gunna wait!)

So back to super sexy guy from my school (I say school, I mean art school, for adults. You know. Real humans). I haven't seen him in over a week. i think he's either dead, or hibernating. Which, if it's the latter, sucks because winter is a good excuse to get naked inside with someone... but if he is going to be sleeping all winter, not only is my winter gunna suck (I mean even if i never get to see the inside of his bedroom, I would still like to openly drool in his direction from time to time, but hiding behind a cleverly disguised Jane Austin fan... duh!) But, if he does hibernate all winter, then come spring, he will be one horny little sexpot... but he might jump on any skinny french girl and then I'd be dumb. So... I'm thinking of hatching a plan. Except. That isn't me. So... I think I'll just continue my passive aggressiveness and ignore him, and continue my quest for eternal celibacy. If I'm still single in a year, I'll join either a nunnery... or a bordello. I'm betting on the nunnery.

What is truly depressing, is that all my friends have the same discourse of "you are amazing, super cool, bright... I don't know why you're single". Seriously? Last week I even got a "If I were a guy, I would so go out with you". Really? Well. Fuck me oh riley. I'm not looking for prince charming, I'm looking for a guy who has a brain, a sense of humour, can drink a beer, laugh with my friends, and find the right words for me". Now I'm not saying he has to be gorgeous, I tend to go for guys who look "different". But come on, God, don't send me any really obese guys. A little tummy, I'm cool with. A ridiculous hipster moustache? Fine; I'll deal. A guy who cross-dresses on weekends? Fine. Whatever. But holy fuck. Why, why... WHY am I alone?

I don't say this while slashing my wrists, I'm not depressed... I am seriously questioning myself.  I want to know. I personally think it's because I'm too much to handle. Guys can't take a girl who doesn't take shit from no one, speaks her mind and is generally a eccentric funky person. But at 24 I still have hope. (I say 24... but it's nearly my birthday! Christmas baby everyone!). How long should I wait until signing my death warrant? Or join a covent? (I can totally rhyme!)

25? 27? 50?

I might have to join an online wedding site. You know like in Russia. I'd be doing it legally too, I mean i already have 2 passports, so I don't even need to pretend to marry some guy just for a European passport, because I have two. That said, if it ends up like in the movies, I'll either be married to a heavily obese farmer... or a axe wielding murderer. I think I'll choose the murdering fuck-head. I'm pretty sure he'd make it a fast death. Or maybe like in Reservoir Dogs, he'll cut one of my ears off (which, i'd then go for the fat farmer, I'll just roll him over with the tractor, or fill his gullet with boiled eggs. Fat bastard probably wouldn't even choke. Probably slowly chew each one and ask for more).

Still. Need a plan. Mmmmm fuck it. I'm gunna flash the sexy guy from school (by the way, totally found him on Facebook... the guy has two youtube accounts as well, so I can perv on him from the comfort of my own flat... Now I sound weird).

Logging off. Need to make eggs. (I joke. It will be hot chocolate (no lactose, it will be soy)).

p.s. If the sexy guy from my school, in 4th year happens to pass by and read this (which is doubt, come on... he has never spoken to me)... I'm not a sociopath. I am just very shy and scared of making any decisions that will hurt me).

xxx

It’s no longer chicken soup for the soul ladies and gents…

It’s raspberry cheesecake and chilli chocolate muffins.

Not to out do Martha Stewart… after a day of boredom… i decided to bake… bake… and bake. Not great when you’re on a “diet”… I need to lose boob and tummy weight… even though everyone says I don’t need to (especially the boob section) but I suppose I just made that a but harder… in any case… I got a message from a friend a few days ago… asking how I was and if I wanted to meet up (in Toulouse) next week… But to be honest, I don’t know if I should. I mean, (and I am still confused about this part) after I left Stockholm, I got back to uni… and everything had changed. My guy friends just… “dropped” me. Why? I have… no idea… this guy (who I really liked… as a friend… and may I say… he tried to sleep with me a fair few times… not that THAT was going to happen) just decided… he didn’t want to be friends anymore… well to be more correct when after 3 months I still hadn’t gone for a drink with him, I asked him straight out why we had not seen each other… and he said “I don’t have the same desire to see as I did before”. Now, to be brutal… I was floored. We had never been uber close… but close enough to know each other pretty well…

So what did I do?

I got up, and made myself some new friends! Partied like a crazy person, worked hard and got over it.

So… why do I suddenly get this… request to “meet up for a drink it’s been ages”…? I have no idea… argh. Even I can’t try and psychoanalyse this shit. So I am going to have a slice of cheesecake, and a giant glass of wine… or diet coke… whatever I can get my hands on first.

If you want the recipes… here we go (at least something positive can come out of it) :

Baked Raspberry Cheesecake 

Ingredients

• 8 digestive biscuits
• 50g butter , melted
• 600g cream cheese
• 2 tbsp plain flour
• 175g caster sugar
• Vanilla extract
• 2 eggs, plus 1 yolk
• 142ml pot soured cream
• 300g raspberries 
  
• icing sugar

Method

1. Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Crush 8 digestive biscuits in a food processor (or put in a plastic bag and bash with a rolling pin). Mix with 50g melted butter. Press into a 20cm springform tin and bake for 5 minutes, then cool.
2. Beat 600g cream cheese with 2 tbsp flour, 175g caster sugar, a few drops of vanilla extract, 2 eggs, 1 yolk and a 142ml pot of soured cream until light and fluffy. Stir in 150g raspberries and pour into the tin. Bake for 40 minutes and then check, it should be set but slightly wobbly in the centre. Leave in the tin to cool.
3. Using the remaining 150g raspberries, keep a few for the top and put the rest in a pan with 1 tbsp icing sugar. Heat until juicy and then squash with a fork. Push through a sieve. Serve the cheesecake with the raspberry sauce and raspberries.

Dark Chocolate and Chilli Cupcakes

Ingredients

• Chocolate cupcakes :
  
• 175g (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
• 140g (5 oz) light muscovado sugar
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 2 tablespoons golden syrup
• 225g (8 oz) self-raising flour
• 115g (4 oz) dark chocolate, melted
• 1 or 2 red chillies, deseeded and very finely chopped
• Chocolate frosting :
  
• 175g (6 oz) dark chocolate (above 70% cocoa solids)
• 2 tablespoons dark muscovado sugar
• 150ml soured cream
• To decorate :
  
• Red and green coloured marzipan
• Red sugar sprinkles

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas mark 4. Line a 12-cup muffin tray with paper cases.

2. Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy. Gradually mix in the eggs and stir in the golden syrup, flour, melted chocolate and chopped chillies.

3. Spoon into the paper cases and bake for 20 minutes or until just firm to the touch. Cool in the tin for 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.

4. To make the chocolate icing: chop or break the chocolate into small pieces and melt in a bowl placed over a pan of steaming water, stirring until smooth. Remove the bowl to the work surface and beat in the sugar until dissolved, followed by the sour cream.

5. Spread the frosting over the cupcakes and decorate with chillies, or hearts moulded from coloured marzipan or sugar paste icing. Scatter over red sugar sprinkles.

Men are like Russian Dolls…

It’s the summer, which means for me that I have far more time to write. I have sadly been pretty lazy on the writing front lately. But My “mode year resolution” will be to take more time to write (and read, I have like 10 Hemingway books to read at the moment). So, today is a very special day for French people, and if you don’t know why, I highly recommened using google (hello the french revolution anyone?), so instead of writing something very predictable… I have decided to write about men, and their many “layers”. Predictable? I think not! Plus I have the very latest mac, so I am very very happy.

I got the idea to write this post on the follow up movie (with the name “Les Poupées Russes”) after the “l’Auberge Espagnol” by Cédrix Klapisch (with Romain Duris). But I have decided to put my own twist on the title, men are like russian dolls… why? Well, just like in the movie “Shrek”, the main character when asked what ogre’s are like, compares himself to an onion… an ogre with many layers… but wouldn’t you say that russian dolls are a far better (and prettier) analogy? 

Well I do. But I hear you behind your computer complaining, “why aren’t women russian dolls? Don’t they have layers?”. The thing is, it is a common fact that the woman psyche is very complicated. I mean of course men are complicated as well, but as goes relationships and such, men are far for direct that women. Women have a (horrible) tendency to analyse every act, every word… everything. Whereas a man is far more simple (in general of course). I highly agree with the whole “He’s just not that into you theory”. I know that we can’t paint all men with the same brush, I know, but I think it is the common belief that men… even if they beat around the bush a bit, one day tell you, make a woman understand that they “like” them.

Everyone has layers, but I firmly men believe that mens layers are easier to understand if you try and uncomplicate your own. We all need a bit more simplicity… and honestly. I mean sure, the chase is great… but sometimes it would be great to just have someone tell you (email, text, tweet, call, sign language, smoke signs… etc.) that they like you, maybe take you out and hopefully bump uglies (at some point).

This year, I have personally taken a year out of the “drama”. I have not flirted, not dated done practically nothing with guys because I wanted to “trim the drama from my life” and also get to know me better and find out what I wanted first (also I had 2 jobs in 2 different museums, as well as in a Pub and all the while going to uni… so not that much time anyway). I soon realised that… if you peel away the drama, everything seems more… simple… I have had more courage to just “say things”, and understand guys better. I’ve also learnt not to listen to girls who gossip, but to just let them talk, because a gossiper… is usually talking a lot of crap.

So back to russian dolls. Imagine that each doll is a layer of various things, it could be a conversation you had with said guy, another layer could be a date, one could be a missed call… anything. Peel away all that, and just talk honestly. Don’t believe the hype about men being from mars, and women from venus. We all can communicate in one form or another, so stop playing games, just talk. But sometimes, the dating game is to peel away the layers… so don’t walk through the relationship without looking. Keep the game clean, don’t buy yourself a “How to date” dictionary, try and make your own. Each guy, each woman and each relationship is different… so peel away differently… and individually.

Let’s All Say Goodbye…. to 2011

Time Flies When... ?

This year has been full of ups and downs. So… what happend?

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I started the year in the wonderful city of Stockholm. I had just spent six months of pure bliss there (apart from the fact that my bank account was constantly bone dry, was really only a minor bump in the road to be honest). But, the year 2011 definitely started in style. January came and went, and it thus meant I had to leave the snowy north, and return to the chilly south of France to finish my History degree. February past, and I was taught that sometimes friends do nasty things, and that sometimes you need to cut people out of your life, because they are not worth the time you spent crying about them. So I said my second of my goodbyes in the beginning of 2011. Sadly it wouldn’t be the last. However, at university everything was great, good marks, and here came March. I met some new people and made new friends. Life was back on track. I was happy at home, at university and hurrah! I found a work experience placement in an art gallery. I even lost two kilos that month! We are now slowly creeping into April… nothing particularly interesting here. Between weekends with friends, and weekends back at home to see my family, life was as mundane and everyday as you could get. With May came exams… and big decisions… What am I going to do next year? Where am I going? And what the fuck am I going to do with my life? 

Well… now here is a certain “crise existentielle” (existential crisis)… but hey, I am far too busy with exams and the occasional (or not so occasional) knees up with friends, so I am not thinking about it. 

End of May. Results… Passed! Woo hoo ! Now… here starts my month of work experience. My first day I meet two girls who are also working at the gallery like me. We shall call them Jane Doe 1 and Jane Doe 2. I get along really great with both of them, and in particular Jane Doe 1. She is moving to Bordeaux next year to finish her history of Art degree. I decide to do a second degree and join her. That explains mostly why I am now living in Bordeaux. June in finished. July is here… and I pack up my apartment, and leave to join my parents. I go back and forth between Toulouse (where my friends are) and the pyrenees (where my parents are). The summer is hot, and I decide to get my first tattoo (which, don’t worry I had been planning for many a moon). July has finished… and like every summer, I am tan-less and freckle covered. 

August is here. I start work at a restaurant with a friend as waitresses. It is fun, but very tiring. I don’t see the month pass, and I am already moving again to another town. Goodbye Toulouse, Bordeaux here I come. I arrive in Bordeaux sans flat… so like any good natured hobo, I sleep on my friends’ couch for about 2 months. Around this time, I met some guy on the internet. He seems nice, I enjoy chatting with him… and then he suddenly decides we can’t talk anymore (I will admit… I still don’t understand what the frack happened there !). In any case, we are now in October, and I have a place to live end of the month! On the seventh of October, I get a call from my mother, who announces the death of a friend. I have not known many people that have died, but I feel heartbroken. I cry and cry. For some reason, I feel like moving around so much, changing towns, cities, countries and meeting new people, I end up saying more goodbyes than hellos. Jane Doe and I have been at our new university, and I have met some amazing new people, a few I know I will be friends with for a long time. I cannot forget the past, but I decide to continue, because this is one of life’s curve balls, and I know that I need to pick myself up again, and see all the greatness in the world. 

November is “move in” time. The apartment is far too big for my little old self, so I fill it with art. I have parties, we meet new people. I get a job interview for a pub. They like me and I’m hired. I also get a letter from the Musée d’Aquitaine in Bordeaux offering me a two month work experience placement! Joy indeed. December is here, I need to buy presents and I spend far too much money on my parents, but they have made so many sacrifices, that I just want to spoil them. December is nearly gone, and it’s the 25th. I turn 23. Then it’s the 31st. A friend and I order sushi and we see the new year in sober, but that’s exactly how I want it to be.

–

This year has been a real eye opener. 2011 was the year of “goodbyes”. 2012 I have decided will be the year of big decisions and “hellos”. I don’t want to say anymore “goodbyes”. So I have decided to live forever. Become a millionaire, and travel the world saying hello. I will never say anymore “goodbyes,” and just say  “see you laters”. I don’t want to make any new year resolutions, because I know I won’t stick to any of them, but I also know that you can’t predict what is going to happen next, so why try and pretend we are prepared for what is going to happen, and just continue biting our nails, smoking cigarettes, sleeping around, gaining weight etc. Let’s just live life, try our best and stay true to ourselves. Yes it’s corny. Yes you’ve heard this a million time. But we all know that the same shit always happens again and again, so let’s be mentally prepared this year.