tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47950128333362169602024-02-18T18:28:17.473-08:00The Pains of an Overactive MindJessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-16134815435145575362014-10-22T12:10:00.000-07:002014-10-23T06:44:24.499-07:00Alan Rusbridger on post-Snowden: “Real things have started to happen”<span style="color: #222222;">On Monday 20</span><sup style="color: #222222;">th</sup><span style="color: #222222;"> October,
I went to the 20</span><sup style="color: #222222;">th</sup><span style="color: #222222;"> anniversary of the University of Sheffield’s
Journalism Studies course. I didn’t study there, nor do I have much interest in
this milestone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled for the University, but I
went along because the celebration came in the form of talk with Alan Rusbridger (which
completely outshines my 20</span><sup style="color: #222222;">th</sup><span style="color: #222222;"> birthday celebrations of a poorly
attended student houseparty where I vaguely remember someone’s falling in the
bath being a highpoint).</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Rusbridger, Editor-in-Chief of
the Guardian and the Observer, came to Sheffield to talk about
the pre-Snowden age of journalism. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSw_PGzwbA5fZTQIqLb2FgWs-A0_CEMRSidFJV93LkNCerfaiZMiVi847BTBnmb93za6VQK38R_4ccl4xVIGrGcr_IAZZM4NrMko3XuXUcBqtgHT7M_KDaGCZNECRX1FANs7vGv972xs/s1600/IMG_1033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSw_PGzwbA5fZTQIqLb2FgWs-A0_CEMRSidFJV93LkNCerfaiZMiVi847BTBnmb93za6VQK38R_4ccl4xVIGrGcr_IAZZM4NrMko3XuXUcBqtgHT7M_KDaGCZNECRX1FANs7vGv972xs/s1600/IMG_1033.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Arriving half-an-hour before
anyone else and sitting on the front row and in front of the lectern is, under
normal circumstances, beyond my levels of enthusiasm. But it was totally worth it because I think we had eye contact. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">In person, Rusbridger couldn’t look
or talk more like a journalist. Perhaps that’s a rather obvious observation, but
despite his hefty job title, he was still a person first. He didn’t come across
as a formidable Big Boss Man.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">In fact, if the Guardian had legs and wore a
suit, it would be him. Rusbridger spoke with clarity, understated conviction
and with waves of passion that surfaced when he spoke of the Guardian, and
the job of journalism in society. No bad jokes, no alienating language, no ego.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">It was only during the Q&A
at the end, when he would pause to consider his answers, that my brain had a
second to think how much of a privilege it was to be there. I’m aware it wasn't the first time Rusbridger spoke about these things – and of course,
much of what he said is already known – but to be told about it in person, and
with such humility, was a privilege. So happy bloody birthday, Journalism
Studies, and may you have many more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Rusbriudger began with Orwell,
who he pinned as the man who lured him into journalism. He said Orwell’s books
and essays made an amazing impression on him when he read them as a teenager. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitx7ZeGS7Cog771l08Z4PknKTRrm9C1NgQuWKhYXiONslKdFtovE9MXaggi0OjIYvOuB64BnBg2S6wQ-pTIvcdwuGJ_yUy5mixV3gR9UCvSkQuGxYyWOfJT_2WVQ9cWRszWrho2WuL46s/s1600/IMG_1037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitx7ZeGS7Cog771l08Z4PknKTRrm9C1NgQuWKhYXiONslKdFtovE9MXaggi0OjIYvOuB64BnBg2S6wQ-pTIvcdwuGJ_yUy5mixV3gR9UCvSkQuGxYyWOfJT_2WVQ9cWRszWrho2WuL46s/s1600/IMG_1037.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And then he dived right in to
the Snowden revelations. “I got a call to say someone had surfaced from the
NSA. He was in Hong Kong and wanted to meet. He had the most secret documents
anyone could handle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He explained how Snowden
handpicked people he thought could do justice to his material, “He didn’t want
to give them to those who weren’t willing to take a risk”, Rusbridger said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">It was notable, he said, that
Snowden didn’t go to the New York Times (because in a similar case in 2005, it
sat on the story for a year). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He explained how Snowden’s
decision to hand out the files, rather than publish them himself, was a remarkable
choice. He wanted journalists to have the files, make their own judgements and
give the context that would help people understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">“He went to the one independent
source, the fourth estate,” Rusbridger said. “Journalism is there to stand
aside from all other areas of power. He wanted to bring the facts through old
fashioned reporting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Rusbridger then spoke about the
questions the Guardian asked itself when it took in the files from
Snowden:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="color: #222222; text-indent: -18pt;">Should we look at these documents in
the first place?</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="color: #222222; text-indent: -18pt;">What rules
do we construct about what we look at?</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="color: #222222; text-indent: -18pt;">Do we use it,
and if so, what do we use?</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="color: #222222; text-indent: -18pt;">Do we talk to the state in advance?</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Rusbridger said he had to
decide what to look at and what not to look at, and said “we only published a
tiny proportion of what we were given”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Some journalists had said the
documents shouldn’t be used, that it would be harmful, and that they defer to
the state. “I find this an untenable defence for journalists,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The
British government eventually told the Guardian it'd had its fun and it now
needed to stop. It was instructed to destroy all the material. “I don’t
think the government was thinking very clearly at this point,” Rusbridger said.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">He explained
that the next generation of leakers would self-publish if the Guardian had
built a reputation of not publishing the data, which would send out “a terrible
picture of Britain’s view of the press.” </span><span style="color: #222222;">Rusbridger
told the police this would have no effect on the Guardian’s reporting, as they
would do it out of New York, where the state couldn’t intervene. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">He said it would be terrible to simplify the lessons we learnt from the revelations to just freedom versus security. </span><span style="color: #222222;">He</span><span style="color: #222222;"> said the experience has taught us a lot, mainly regarding: </span></div>
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<b>Consent</b><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Does the state have the right to right to scoop up all the information we put out there? Twitter, Facebook, and so many other
companies all have relationships with the state. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>Privacy</b><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Metadata tells everything in order to
build up a complete picture of someone’s life. </span><span style="color: #222222;">A lot of thought needs to go
into security and location.</span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><br /></b></div>
<b>The Guardian</b><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; text-indent: -18pt;">Rusbridger said “the police would
have stopped us through legal means if they could. The state didn’t like it. I
was summoned to Parliament and asked if I loved my country. I was left immensely
reassured, and so happy to work for a paper with such robustness. People
couldn’t get at it.”</span></div>
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<b>The necessity of reporting</b><br />
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"The institutional power of a newspaper to do what it did, and under pressure, told me a lot about the necessity of reporting. Our Pulitzer Prize was for public service and that’s exactly what it is. Society needs unpolluted, verifiable reporting to survive, and we must protect the independence of what is it that we do," Rusbridger said. </div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">In an interview with Snowden
last year, he said that the worst outcome would be that nothing would change. But
Rusbridger listed the changes already taking place. Congress has acted on them
and tech companies have changed things, including Apple. “We know the information
was important. Real things have started to happen. <i>That’s</i> the public interest.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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During the Q&A, I resisted the urge to put up my hand and ask Rusbridger for a job, because I didn’t want to be <i>that </i>idiot. But it did make me think about my feelings towards the Guardian. <br />
<br />
Rusbridger began his talk by recommending Orwell to those who want to think and write more clearly. That’s exactly what years of reading the Guardian has done to me. It’s built me up from a clueless journalism graduate to the more informed, opinionated and ambitious person I am today. The Guardian has done an immense amount for the public, but it’s done a lot for the individual, too. Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-78703703567484030962014-09-28T11:37:00.002-07:002014-09-28T11:37:52.727-07:00David Brent is not an insult<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Earlier this week, <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/harriet-harman-compares-david-cameron-to-david-brent-9755258.html">Harriet
Harman compared David Cameron</a> to David Brent. “Sometimes it’s like we’ve got David Brent as
our Prime Minister,” she said, referring to Cameron’s incident where he
was overheard saying the Queen “purred” down the phone to him after he told her
the results of the referendum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Aside
from their first name and the fact someone could do both of their jobs better
than them, I can’t see the resemblance between the two Davids. But that’s not
the problem. The problem is that Harman used Brent’s name as an insult. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvxvA3gEWuyFT9ttr5qk_ig9TGXXvDGpfD03WrYuhuySgI_-SbuzdC3UqY1VuVTAQLzMW24dRlPoOf_uzH98H1MnZQ4CsfR_iW9zdpnSDLf3gzNT1R_chV4xiv-0KcWn2a7-lLjkYdWc/s1600/7080266015_ed07f31b32_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvxvA3gEWuyFT9ttr5qk_ig9TGXXvDGpfD03WrYuhuySgI_-SbuzdC3UqY1VuVTAQLzMW24dRlPoOf_uzH98H1MnZQ4CsfR_iW9zdpnSDLf3gzNT1R_chV4xiv-0KcWn2a7-lLjkYdWc/s1600/7080266015_ed07f31b32_z.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C/o Strellevik</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If
you’ve ever watched so much as one episode of The Office, you probably hate
Brent. But if, like me, you’re almost always watching the whole thing on a loop,
there’s a chance you wake up every morning and wish he was real. Because David
Brent, </span>the philosopher, motivational speaker, musician and businessman,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> is God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I must stop here and warn you that I may be slightly biased in my proclamations, because I see a lot of myself
in Brent. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Laughing
at my own jokes (and often having to explain them), saying completely inappropriate
things (like the time someone told me their friend’s dad has just died and my response
was “ah, and it’s Father’s Day today…).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Plus,
his (albeit completely transparent) desire to fit in, to be liked, and to be perceived
as funny was reflected in everything he said and did. Most of us can
empathise with that to a lesser extent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Brent
was a good person. Most of what made him annoying came from a place of
insecurity, and how can we berate a person for that? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">More
importantly, he was entertaining. Forget the fact he was a fictional character
that was exaggerated for comedic purposes – if I came across one Brent-like
person during my day I’m sure it would be much easier to fight the 3pm heavy-eyelids attack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What separates us from Brent is that we comply with social norms to fit in, constantly fighting natural
urges in an attempt to be liked and accepted by others. We wouldn’t step out of
our office to tell everyone a joke or dance like a prat. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">But Brent transcended this evolutionary survival skill.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes,
he might have had a tendency to outwardly ruminate on the health of his testicles
to a colleague enjoying her lunch, but Brent was unpolished in a world of people
terrified to be judged like people judged him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We
spend our days thinking things we would never dream of saying out loud. I would
find Brent’s lack of mental filter and inability to disguise what he’s thinking refreshing to have around (as long as I avoided the firing line).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A
friend once said to me the worst thing you can be called is ‘boring’. But
compared to Brent, most of us are a little bit on the dull side. Humour is often left behind as our </span>preoccupations<span style="font-family: inherit;"> with not saying the wrong thing, offending or alienating anyone, or being met with deadpan looks and tumbleweed prevail. He got it wrong most of the
time, but that’s probably the statistical likelihood of a joke flopping if you
tell them repeatedly all day long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It would be remiss of me to ignore his many flaws. For instance, Brent
had a tendency to get jealous. But his way of dealing with that was to wear a
pair of man-heels and a leather jacket to work. A lot of us would react worse in the
face of wrath. He may have headbutted a woman in the face one time, but that was
accidental so we won’t talk about that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And
when have you ever heard Brent complain? Even in dark times he remains positive,
or at least he tries to pretend he is. When he’s made redundant and becomes a
salesman, he focuses on the positive sides, like being able to stay in bed all
day or pull over on the motorway to make a call.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps this positive outlook doesn’t permeate below the surface, but if he felt sorry for himself he hid it with all of his might – a habit that, in long run, could have run him into the ground with a heart attack or depression, but is endearing nevertheless.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the years since The Office ended, Brent’s personality has
left such an abiding memory on so many of us. I feel confident in my ability to predict
how he would have reacted in any given situation. He’s unforgettable, he’s practically
an ‘ism’ (I’m sure I’m not the only one who has the odd Brentism) and we’ve all
encountered diluted Brents at work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
He liked to see himself as a philosopher. I can imagine the pinnacle of his life would be to hear someone earnestly quoting him. The message behind his motivational moments were that life should be fun, that you shouldn’t live by “the rules”. There are worse beliefs he could live his life by.<br />
<br />
But it’s not just a case of “he could be worse”, because he couldn’t be better. In an age where we’re distracted so frequently, discard things so easily and replace them so casually, Brent’s character has survived. He even frequents the mind of Harriet Harman. If Cameron was a bit more Brent-like, perhaps we’d all be a bit better off. <span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll leave you with one of the beliefs Brent lived by: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.030000686645508px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.030000686645508px;">"Now you do not punish a girl, Dutch or otherwise, for having big boobs."</span></span>Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-63579758551761058482014-09-16T12:09:00.000-07:002014-09-16T12:09:37.771-07:00Should we take a stand against sitting? <br />
<br />
An<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/sep/15/is-sitting-down-bad-for-my-health"> article yesterday</a>, collating all of the bad news into one readable chunk, talks about one of our worst<br />
habits: sitting. Whether you do it on the toilet, at the hairdressers or while driving, it’s killing you and you need to stop.<br />
<br />
We spend half our lives sitting down, and it can increase our risk of almost every deadly disease you can think of, including heart disease, stroke and diabetes, as well as making us fatter.<br />
<br />
The article cites a study that says even doctors are advocating standing up while we’re at work. It also warns GPs against sitting all day, and suggests that more consultations could be done with both the doctor and patient standing.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D_zjC0q8cuGLxWoTxvuPy-QeeBcJdYuXGtf5XwCZtvp8zIHwc9EBc7FrT7UY0o13frwileHNGdMHDli195WqVhJhyphenhyphen1loEntj6aZPe0_WP7SMoHLjmQsF18eFU7cjszhxqPCy2Mv5RsE/s1600/2014-05-17_1400328387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D_zjC0q8cuGLxWoTxvuPy-QeeBcJdYuXGtf5XwCZtvp8zIHwc9EBc7FrT7UY0o13frwileHNGdMHDli195WqVhJhyphenhyphen1loEntj6aZPe0_WP7SMoHLjmQsF18eFU7cjszhxqPCy2Mv5RsE/s1600/2014-05-17_1400328387.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a><br />
That’s right, the place you go to when you feel at your worst – the place that’s usually already unbearably hot and stuffy without flu germs pumping around your body – wants you to stand while a doctor pokes and prods you.<br />
<br />
Outside of the doctors, the advice to spend more time standing is worth thinking about, especially because it can add years onto our lives – if only the world wasn’t designed around us sitting on our big, fat bums. Wherever you look, I guarantee there’s a seat. And it’s expected that you’ll sit on it like everyone else.<br />
<br />
I could probably try standing up at work – after all, heart disease doesn’t sound great. But in an open-plan office of over 100 people who sit down, I’ll end up getting a strained neck, weird glances and looking like I have some kind of embarrassing bum-related issue preventing me from sitting down.<br />
<br />
Aside from work, I guess I could try it on the train. Only, I’d probably get several broken bones before being kindly escorted out of the carriage and asked in a patronising tone if I’m aware how the whole train thing works.<br />
<br />
The advice to stand isn’t practical. Until every office is installed with a treadmill desk, and every mode of public transport is as busy as a central London bus in rush hour – it isn’t going to be easy to take a stand against sitting.<br />
<br />
We do a lot of things that are bad for us, and most of them aren’t compulsory. But sitting is a social norm, and seats are all around us, inviting our tired, aching feet to take a rest. I don’t smoke, drink or do drugs – sitting feels good, so let me have it.Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-27995046058237551422014-08-25T12:00:00.000-07:002014-08-25T12:00:30.120-07:00Don’t decide to never decide <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">Bestselling
book, The Art of Thinking Clearly by Rolf Dobelli, has been translated into an
app. Released last week, it claims to help you make impartial, uninfluenced
decisions in your everyday life. Apart from the fact you’ll be influenced by
the app.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Like the
book, the app makes us aware of what it calls ‘cognitive biases’ – everyday prejudices
that cloud our judgement – so we can “make better choices”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For
example, we’re programmed to copy others’ behaviour because that’s how our
ancestors survived. In the modern world, however, this way of thinking is only
helpful in certain circumstances. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The app
works by asking users a series of questions on the area of life their decision
relates to, whether it’s work, money, time or people. It then suggests the
common cognitive biases, biases that usually go unnoticed, that could be preventing
a clear decision.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeGluwVkSV_guS0dNFekgETPmkFJe4fKDDCq3SDWHMebMn-wCEk_pFpseFnfDaV_Zu4drzOC6xzrHyXeRPnwUnP-3FWfws6_OK-QYOOEm6pFUi72UKqe3Rn1wsB0bhNSzTEMbWRwbpLc/s1600/242696_10150191887889088_819208_ohbkjh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeGluwVkSV_guS0dNFekgETPmkFJe4fKDDCq3SDWHMebMn-wCEk_pFpseFnfDaV_Zu4drzOC6xzrHyXeRPnwUnP-3FWfws6_OK-QYOOEm6pFUi72UKqe3Rn1wsB0bhNSzTEMbWRwbpLc/s1600/242696_10150191887889088_819208_ohbkjh.jpg" height="435" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It claims to give us the secrets to ‘perfect’
decision-making – but I highly doubt there is such a thing. If ‘perfect’ means
without bias, then an app just isn’t going to cut it. We’re influenced by
thousands of things we’re not even aware of, and the cleverest app in the world
couldn’t detect them all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I
must admit, the app does sound</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> appealing, especially because deciding
something usually means missing out on hundreds of other options. As difficult
as it can be, however, decision-making isn’t something we should leave to an
app.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We’re on
our phones all day, every day, apart from when we’re showering (see – we can
make good decisions independently). Apps are so instant: this one would be
ready to help us every time we’re in a dilemma. But if it was able to eliminate
every bias influencing all of our decisions – how boring would life be? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Putting
decisions into the hands of our hands has the potential to veer us onto a very
different course. Decisions shape our lives. Our work, surroundings, everything
is a product of our biases as much as anything else. And when they go wrong,
most of us are good at telling ourselves – and believing – that everything
happens for a reason. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Had I
always made rational decisions, I might not have a lower second-class degree
from a university that has since stopped the course I did because it was that
bad. But my 2:2 has turned out to be one of the best things that’s ever
happened to me. Having something to prove has brought out the best in me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Giving
into biases doesn’t necessarily equal a bad decision. Misinformed, perhaps –
but misinformed can lead us down the better path. That’s the thing with
decisions: you just don’t know until you do it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you
think about what makes you happiest in life – your friends, your family, your career
– how many of those came about by strategic decisions? For instance, your partner
may have first appealed to you due to an ancestral influence – but your
deciding to spend your lives together came from instinct. And despite
ever-encroaching technology, we must continue to trust our instincts. What else
do we have when our phone battery dies? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-87235887478435342692014-08-23T11:08:00.000-07:002014-08-23T11:08:17.014-07:00The Dad Commentary<div style="background-color: white;">
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 0px 5px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Over the past few weeks I've written a few articles for the Independent. One of the best bits about writing them has been my Dad's response when I've emailed them over to him. Here's the headlines of the articles, followed by what he has to say:</span></div>
<h3 style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 1.5em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 0px 5px;">
<br /></h3>
<h3 style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 0px 5px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/im-one-of-the-biggest-chocolate-lovers-i-know-but-you-couldnt-pay-me-to-study-it-9677037.html">"I'm one of the biggest chocolate lovers I know, but you couldn't pay me to study it" </a></span></h3>
<div style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Strangely just finished some chocolate ten minutes before I read this. Any chance of them doing a study on real ale and commissioning me? Think they could send me to the Lake District for a month to sample the pubs there.</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<div>
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/a-comedian-has-opened-an-alcoholfree-nightclub-is-he-having-a-laugh-9686519.html"><br /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">
<h3 style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 0px 5px;">
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/a-comedian-has-opened-an-alcoholfree-nightclub-is-he-having-a-laugh-9686519.html"><span style="font-size: small;">"A comedian has opened an alcohol-free nightclub. Is he having a laugh?"</span></a></h3>
<div class="leadtext" style="font-size: 14px; outline: none;">
<div style="outline: none;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I agree that nightclubs are bad enough when you're drunk, I can't imagine anyone staying more than five minutes in one of those dives when your sense of smell, eyes and ears are connected to your brain efficiently.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My excuse for going home early from company outings is that I have to drive and refuse to spend any time in the company of drunks when I'm sober. The buggers are tedious enough when the haven't had a drink. After two shandies they turn into bloody twelve-year-olds.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<h3 style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 0px 5px;">
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/the-upsides-to-being-a-bit-of-a-loner-9653970.html"><span style="font-size: small;">"The upsides to being a bit of a loner"</span></a></h3>
<div class="dateline" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.5em; outline: none;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Oh dear, you're a chip off the old block aren't you? It looks like something I would write, but I'd probably be a bit more blunt, like 'hell is other people'. There was an email at work the other day to announce the Christmas party and I groaned out loud and said I would rather break my leg. An X factor themed party in Sheffield with a 100 pissed twenty-year-olds. Ugh! </span></div>
</div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-7136440265225276192014-08-11T12:04:00.000-07:002014-08-11T12:08:18.881-07:00How to be a bit more positive sometimes<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I've just started reading The Art of Thinking Clearly by Rolf Dobelli,
and something had already caught my eye. In a chapter called ‘Does Harvard make
you smarter?’ it mentions happy people, and how, when they’re asked for their
secret to contentment, they say you just have to see the glass half-full. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzamk4SENxsKq_fHDYpsQiDxq6K-7lJpWXDdAIAPHxiZvMzJH7sgW-Ijc9p6HilNq1VMl-vJHSuIs1fF5IkY2ScT14IYq9iqobr9i11Fqr8jOIlRvuvF2fSN-bH_7vNZSDySlq76EZQk/s1600/IMG_4248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzamk4SENxsKq_fHDYpsQiDxq6K-7lJpWXDdAIAPHxiZvMzJH7sgW-Ijc9p6HilNq1VMl-vJHSuIs1fF5IkY2ScT14IYq9iqobr9i11Fqr8jOIlRvuvF2fSN-bH_7vNZSDySlq76EZQk/s1600/IMG_4248.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What these people don’t realise, Dobelli says, is that they were born
happy. Their ability to see the bright side of things is largely a
personality trait that stays consistent throughout life. This is why self-help
books on positivity don’t help those like me who are inherently more
negative. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"The unhappy don't write self help books”, Dobelli says. I think it's about time there was some positive advice for those of us who weren't
born happy. Realistic positivity, if you will. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Short-term positivity:</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"> asking a born-positive friend for positivity at
the moment you need it and not a minute before. </span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Keep a stash of ready-to-watch romcoms for when you need a positivity
boost. Afterwards, you'll think everything ends happily for around half
an hour. Avoid: Marley and Me, Titanic and The Notebook.</span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Never mull things over in the dark, on an empty stomach or during any
other less-than-optimum conditions. </span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Like a psychopath, you need to mimic your peers in their natural
habitat. Try to copy the behaviour of positive people. On a Friday afternoon. The
one before Christmas. My idea here is that if you keep pretending to be
positive, maybe it’ll happen. And if not, at least it’s Christmas time.</span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">We pessimists find pleasure in things going wrong and ending badly
(because it reinforces our own belief system that everything is shit, not because
we like seeing people miserable). Watch something with a sad ending (Marley and
Me, Titanic, The Notebook) and your faith will be reaffirmed and you might actually feel more positive. </span></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<ul>
<li>A lot of negativity comes from our own inner critic: a niggling voice that tells us we can't do something, that we're not good enough and we'll never be happy. Instead of trying to tackle this voice and telling yourself positive things instead - just give a face to the voice. David Brent's face.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Pour yourself a drink just above midway for an instant half-full glass.</li>
</ul>
</div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-41520749881841393472014-08-03T11:57:00.001-07:002014-08-04T01:40:50.433-07:00Weird Al's Word Crimes: perfect or pedantic?<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 14.25pt;">Two weeks ago, Robin Thicke fans and grammar-lovers united,
probably for the first ever time, and contributed to the viral heights of “Weird
Al” Yankovic’s Word Crimes YouTube hit.</span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Released as part of his new album, Word Crimes lampoons
Robin Thicke’s infamous Blurred Lines video. Instead of crimes against music,
viewers are treat to a string of crimes against grammar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfpHj41hzhqG4ieg5NFbeJw3jfT-pxjA2iw50M-NY1EGBnIALs98yCEDyOTY2L4z1yw70NyA_pHIRIGYEHRZLTtpH7nOKf_UdomWvljJ9b1dk7CFCJDgW5-JTDKox7zxXX_ukUtaOMM8/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfpHj41hzhqG4ieg5NFbeJw3jfT-pxjA2iw50M-NY1EGBnIALs98yCEDyOTY2L4z1yw70NyA_pHIRIGYEHRZLTtpH7nOKf_UdomWvljJ9b1dk7CFCJDgW5-JTDKox7zxXX_ukUtaOMM8/s1600/download.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As well as dancing punctuation marks and hashtag overload,
Yankovic targets some commonly misused words, including “literally”, “ironic”
and the confusion between “fewer” and “less”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The video has undoubtedly helped push grammar’s
reputation further from the old-fashioned classroom to a more colourful present.
But as well as entertaining, it has also been hailed as an ode to proper
grammar (despite using the word “wanna”).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For these reasons, I should love Word Crimes. Perhaps I’m
taking the video a bit too seriously – but there are a few problems I wanna
talk about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The video’s tone, and the grammar gripes mentioned within
it, are synonymous with the familiar, malevolent blaze of grammar pedants who
derive pleasure from shaming “abusers” of the English language. It implies that
those who make common grammatical errors are less educated, and the pedants who
abhor being plagued by these thoughtless inaccuracies are superior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Someone who articulates this point much better than I
could is Stephen Fry, in a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7E-aoXLZGY#t=368"><span style="color: black;">video</span></a> that shares Word
Crimes’ hypnotic kinetic typography, but not its views. In the video, Fry says
that these little things people point out – giving the “fewer” or “less”
problem as an example – aren’t of importance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He says he’s outgrown this “silly approach to language”,
which is the same approach that Word Crimes encourages. He admits to having a natural
pedantic urge, but fights against it just as he fights against gluttony and selfishness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Of course, flouting all grammar rules isn’t the answer,
and would lead to chaos. But disparaging people for incorrect grammar –
especially publicly – only excludes them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The video has attracted – and probably aroused – a lot of
pedants. One article (obviously written with trembling excitement) <u>points to
an ‘error’</u> in Word Crimes, where Yankovic splits an infinitive in the line:
‘Try your best to not drool’. Said in this order it’s impossible to grasp what
is being communicated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A lot of the song’s lyrics are synonymous with what
pedants say when they berate others, which often has undertones of poor
education and upbringing: “You’re a lost cause, go back to preschool, get out
of the gene pool, try your best to not drool.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yankovic is <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/weird-al-shows-off-big-dictionary-in-robin-thicke-parody-word-crimes-20140715"><span style="color: black;">alleged to have said</span></a> on
American talk show The View, when asked if he wrote Word Crimes to educate his
11-year-old daughter, "No, my daughter is fairly literate. We raised her
that way." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I make a grammatical error, it’s because I’ve
overlooked, misunderstood or forgotten something in spite of my best efforts.
It’s not because of my intelligence or upbringing. Being told, with obvious
pleasure, that I’ve made a mistake makes me feel stupid, and annoyed that the
person will unjustly feel better about themselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sadly, it seems Yankovic isn’t parodying pedants: this is
how he really feels. There’s previous evidence of his grammar awareness, such
as in this <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGWiTvYZR_w"><span style="color: black;">video of him covering</span></a> a “ten
items or less” sign with “fewer”. And, on the release of <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2014/07/16/showbiz/lead-weird-al-yankovic-interview/"><span style="color: black;">Word Crimes</span></a>, he said in
an interview:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“It makes me think I’m not alone, I’m not the only
grammar nerd out there. There’s a lot of other people who share my pain.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The video also targets text talk, saying you shouldn’t
write one letter in place of a word. But there’s evidence proving there’s <span style="color: black;">no<a href="http://www.coventry.ac.uk/research/discover-our-research/btw-txts-spk-doesnt-affect-childrens-grammar/"> connection between poor grammar in texts and a child’s
grasp of written grammar</a></span>. What’s wrong with
forgoing grammatical rules when texting a friend, as long as you can
distinguish between this and situations where you need to write properly?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Word Crimes has got people talking about grammar. It
doesn’t explain the reasons behind its dos and don’ts, but maybe it’s enough to
compel some viewers to find out for themselves. And it contains 100% less
misogyny than the video it parodies, which is a bonus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But we need to upend how we talk about grammar. We need
to stop criticising and complaining, and rid ourselves of the red-pen glory.
It’s not about placing any less importance on correct grammar, but changing the
way we communicate about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Along with Stephen Fry, many of us wince at grammatical
errors. But the more tolerable among us disguise our instincts like a
well-adjusted psychopath in order to remain undetected in public.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 14.25pt;">I can’t deny I wasn’t secretly pleased to see Word
Crimes. I get it: telling someone they’ve put an apostrophe </span>where it’s not needed feels like you’ve single-handedly aligned all the pieces of the world together. <br />
<br />
Despite its faults, Word Crimes offers us comfort in knowing there are other grammar-lovers out there who are just normal people like you and I. Or is that you and me?</div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="line-height: 14.25pt;">This piece was </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">originally</span><span style="line-height: 14.25pt;"> written for the wonderful <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/media/mind-your-language">Mind your language</a> blog, but has been put here instead due to unforeseen circumstances!</span></i></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-15036646024577946692014-08-02T12:32:00.000-07:002014-08-02T12:35:17.736-07:00The simple life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">A few times a year I leave London, where I’ve been living
for two years, and travel up north to visit home. Although I get excited, it doesn’t
feel like returning to an old flame. I always knew I would outgrow the town
that brought me up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Up until recently, when I visited home I would look at
the people around me, walking through a nondescript town with nondescript
expressions, and assume their lives must be safe, unexplored and simple. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Driving to work, coming home, going to bed. I pictured their journeys in straight lines, back and forth,
straightforward. In London, I imagined journeys as squiggly lines that bounce around.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP13-6iAl9y7pcGKOOAcK9RSqo7l6B0sWR1fHT69cIxp3q6t-Jk8XNnx9FwjvMS4WCqUrD4CGBwMCeVd72RR7VUs30IniFa8OONr4Xd9M_tIagxhFn_faboDUv1dN1r3vVTJSCxQDN4bQ/s1600/36048_448108999087_8387446_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP13-6iAl9y7pcGKOOAcK9RSqo7l6B0sWR1fHT69cIxp3q6t-Jk8XNnx9FwjvMS4WCqUrD4CGBwMCeVd72RR7VUs30IniFa8OONr4Xd9M_tIagxhFn_faboDUv1dN1r3vVTJSCxQDN4bQ/s1600/36048_448108999087_8387446_n.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I come home, I notice that people walk slower. There are no buildings I can’t see the top
of. It’s a chance to melt among the houses, roads and fields. Everything I see pertains
to routine. Front doors open and close, people mow their lawns, everything is unending,
safe, a slave to a comforting, compulsory routine. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do people here know there’s more to life? They must know there
are ways to distance themselves from reality – bright lights, loud sounds, big
crowds. It looks like life stretches out in front of them, exposed. How can they
face things so head-on without the distractions that come with a city?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wonder if they have big ambitions, and if they know you
can’t dream big if you don’t live somewhere big. The quiet is nice, but what
does it sound like when it’s all you hear? We must be very different people.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what I would think when I visited home. I felt
awful for simplifying the people I saw, for assuming those inhabiting the place
replicate the desolation, greyness and remoteness I saw around me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I realised that maybe some of these people, the ones
walking from the corner shop with their heads down as an acknowledgement of the
sameness around them, maybe they <i>have </i>lived in London. Or maybe they lived
somewhere even more exciting.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Maybe they've never wanted to live in London, and wanting different things doesn't mean their aspirations are lesser than mine. If anything blinds us it's ambition, but I didn't realise it affected your vision quite like this. The virtue of being able to separate people from place took me a
while to learn.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What London lacks, home offers in abundance: real, cold
life. It serves as a reminder that it’s just me in this life, and that
everything surrounding me, the superficiality of London, could disappear in an
instant. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">London is cruelly capricious, or at least it’s the perfect place to deal with the fickleness we face in everyday life. It’s not until I come
home that I’m hit with the transience of everything.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When people at home walk from their car, up their
driveway to their front door – I no longer see someone numbed by repetitiveness.
They feel the earth under their shoes, and that must feel good.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">London makes you feel like you’re floating. The ground doesn’t
feel the same. Your contact with it feels precarious. It doesn’t really care
about you. T</span></span>he earth at home doesn’t belong to me any more, and I don't think the earth in London ever will. But it’s nice to walk on it, even if it does put my head in the clouds.</div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-3aCjWSyc93g%2FU9z6IprWCBI%2FAAAAAAAABmM%2FgiVnx6TkBFw%2Fs1600%2F36048_448108999087_8387446_n.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP13-6iAl9y7pcGKOOAcK9RSqo7l6B0sWR1fHT69cIxp3q6t-Jk8XNnx9FwjvMS4WCqUrD4CGBwMCeVd72RR7VUs30IniFa8OONr4Xd9M_tIagxhFn_faboDUv1dN1r3vVTJSCxQDN4bQ/s1600/36048_448108999087_8387446_n.jpg" -->Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-15409738228284910952014-07-23T06:02:00.000-07:002014-07-23T06:02:16.738-07:00Returning to meat<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last week, my flatmate had her friend round to stay. This is
nothing new – often it’s not until the wait-time to get a shower on a Saturday
morning exceeds an hour that I realise we have guests.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know her name, but this is also nothing new. My flatmates
seems allergic to introducing people formally. So we shall call her Lucy,
because it’s a nice name and I only have to type four letters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Lucy wandered
into my room and asked to look at my bookshelf before I had time to remove the
handful that say ‘psychopath’ on the spine. As I sat on my bed, trying not to look like a psychopath,
she pulled out a vegetarian cookbook.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you vegetarian?” she asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sat up from my nonchalant, horizontal position.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Pescetarian,” I said, relieved. She’d know there was no way
a pescetarian would have the energy to be a cold-blooded killer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She told me she’d been vegetarian for ten years, but had
recently started eating meat again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“One day my boyfriend asked me what I wanted for dinner, and
I just said ‘steak’. So we went to the best steakhouse and did it properly”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She said not eating meat had made her ill,
and she finally realised she needed to listen to her body’s cravings and take
them seriously. <o:p></o:p></span>She said she has steak once every couple of months, when she feels her body start to crave it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Eating steak makes me feel amazing. I feel so alive
afterwards”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was jealous. Recently, when Nando’s messed up my order, I bit into a chicken wrap. I immediately spat it out and felt sick for the rest
of the evening. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought about what it would feel like to eat a steak, to
have all that iron inside me. What it would feel like to not be
tired and pale and feeble. Maybe I should consider it, I thought. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I’m not stupid with it though, I don’t just eat meat for
the sake of it. I just realised that nothing is worth your </span><br />health.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her words floated into my ears, taking on a much softer edge than before. She returned her attention to the bookshelf, and I realised my eyelids were were beginning to descend.</div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-14906913582682716812014-07-16T12:44:00.000-07:002014-07-16T12:44:20.822-07:00Why I love my body<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">It’s
mid-July, and I find myself wanting to rip anything off that dares to cover my
limbs. Today, on the bus home from a job interview, I slid off my black tights
and stuffed them in my bag. This is what summer does to you: you stop caring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNapcEhVRZES8Bh26e5brnNH-hR6k7qehuLrC3uE4y5e5e0H5owvVnX5w7pjZERRxgalsHBu37YKp1YdDms3g8ayy2CvDISmPvOFKMV-Mes_H3a5RiTNM-6l8QZTaPB36meJP-f8uwArY/s1600/IMG_4608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNapcEhVRZES8Bh26e5brnNH-hR6k7qehuLrC3uE4y5e5e0H5owvVnX5w7pjZERRxgalsHBu37YKp1YdDms3g8ayy2CvDISmPvOFKMV-Mes_H3a5RiTNM-6l8QZTaPB36meJP-f8uwArY/s1600/IMG_4608.JPG" height="400" width="202" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Well, in
a perfect world we would stop caring. But we do care, don’t we? And the world
knows it. Adverts for anti-cellulite creams, emails advising you on the most flattering
bikinis for your body shape, articles about getting the perfect beach body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And it’s
not just us, it’s the whole world. Articles on “fat-shaming”, blogs encouraging us to
celebrate our flaws, obesity statistics constantly in the news – it’s hard to
keep up with what it’s okay to be and think. But I’m out of the loop with which celebrities have cellulite where and what diets are the new best thing. And not
just because I don’t read Closer magazine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Throughout
my teenage years I struggled with my body. For years I oscillated between
starving myself until my periods stopped, binge-eating until it hurt and envying
others until I cried.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As the
years went by I gradually realised there were far more interesting things going on in the
world to keep my mind occupied. But it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve
gradually learned to be completely happy with my body. I’ve reached what
magazines would call “body confident”. And my newfound confidence has nothing
to do with my weight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A couple
of years ago I spent an entire month having panic attacks. My brain assaulted my
body, and I fell for the tricks it played on me. I was exhausted, and terrified I was dying.
But it had a profound and lasting effect on me that has gradually conquered the
harsh critic of my younger years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I don’t
mean to belittle actual near-death experiences – I was convinced I was dying at
the time. But my body fought the anxiety. It came through the month in one piece,
unscathed and stronger than before, despite my doubting it. When my breathing
turned my arms numb and I feared I would lose consciousness forever – my body
kept me alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anxiety forces you to pay too much attention to your insides and focus on every little pain. But now, although I do still do this sometimes, I look at my body from the outside. Legs that have held me up when I thought I would fall down and never get back up. Arms that have lifted me from restless sleeps.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Worrying
about the size of my thighs doesn't feel important any more. Something has shifted. Frustration
and jealousy has been replaced with gratitude. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Now, I remember what it feels like to
think your one and only body is failing, and I could never criticise it again. Anxiety led me to distrust my body, and anxiety forced me to
accept that I </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">have</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to trust it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My body
is far from perfect – whatever that is. But I’ll be proud to dress it in shorts
and skirts this summer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-6384632217783395002014-07-14T09:33:00.000-07:002014-07-14T09:33:25.610-07:00Sandy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-46852596420545499762014-07-09T07:04:00.000-07:002014-07-09T07:04:56.344-07:00What you really think<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I read an article today about an <a href="http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/07/07/what-the-therapist-thinks-about-you/?_php=true&_type=blogs&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&version=Moth&module=inside-nyt-region&region=inside-nyt-region&WT.nav=inside-nyt-region&_r=0">experiment involving 700 patients</a> at a Medical Centre in Boston, US. The project is allowing patients to
see the records made by their therapists, with the hope that giving them such insights will help with recovery and "improve therapeutic trust and
communication".<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At first, the idea sounded horrible. Surely, even the most transparent therapists would have to
self-edit to make sure their notes were encouraging and couldn’t be interpreted
in an offensive way. Or in a way that could reverse any progress made with patients. </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Therefore, the patient is probably never going to get a completely
honest idea of what the therapist is thinking.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But imagine if the notes <i>were </i>100% honest and unbiased. And now imagine knowing exactly what people think of you in other areas of life. Wouldn’t that be amazing? It would be a bit like living in the film
The Invention of Lying. But not really, really shit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The first meeting<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rather than “It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you”,
what do people really think when they meet me for the first time? I’m sure it
would be much more along the lines of:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“It’s not really anything to meet you. I’ve met a lot of people, and
very few of them do I ever talk to again. I’ve not heard much about you at all,
but I'm making an initial judgement on the quality of your handshake, how much
you’re really paying attention to me right now and what you’re wearing.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLbMqLAs5ogpYe7iT4AW1iYVuLxcoZue9vkVNlMcJauLD91d8VEQK5W1IcEmJ7xAZida9MPfEDPlZ3gUkcx5rmF4jezEVX26loXocof60RoCjqTXjQ644LbhSifEpUlnmR7k0hK-6huo/s1600/photo+(25)-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLbMqLAs5ogpYe7iT4AW1iYVuLxcoZue9vkVNlMcJauLD91d8VEQK5W1IcEmJ7xAZida9MPfEDPlZ3gUkcx5rmF4jezEVX26loXocof60RoCjqTXjQ644LbhSifEpUlnmR7k0hK-6huo/s1600/photo+(25)-001.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
<b><span style="color: #222222;">The flatmates<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;">I’ve never been short of things to say about flatmates during my time at the bottom of London’s renting ladder. But I’ve never told anyone how much I’ve hated living with them. Which makes me really worry what they think about me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;">“It’s really worrying that you like to eat from children’s plates and bowls. And it completely contradicts your sleeping habits, which are more like a pensioner’s. And how many things do you need to take into the bathroom just to put on your face?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The interview</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’d love to know what interviewers really think of me. Do you really think that the second you shake someone’s hand and leave, the
interviewers immediately disperse and go back their desks? It’s much more likely
they’ll have something to say, something they would never tell you in the obligatory
“sorry, you just weren’t the right fit for us” phone call. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I leave an interview, I think it’s more along the lines of this:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“We should probably discuss her abilities for this role, but could
anyone concentrate on anything she said, or were you completely distracted by
her nervous fidgeting? I couldn’t put up with that every day. Who’s next?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The doctor’s appointment<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When you go to the doctor’s, you expect nothing more than sympathy. Along
with a bit of medical expertise, of course. But I think my appointments
probably make the doctor think something more like this: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“What kind of person comes to the doctor, asks for help, and then looks
at my prescription and tells me she’s too scared to take the medication? She probably thinks she’s leading the way for an anti-antibiotic
resistance movement, when really she’s just too scared. She’ll be back in ten
years’ time with three children clinging onto her leg, begging me for
medication.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The blog reader</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I like to think those of you who read my blog would think it passes for reasonably okay. But then, when I think about it properly, I'm not so sure.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
"If this blog were a human, it would be old enough to walk and talk by now. It would probably even know colours and numbers. Maybe if Jess spend less time on her blog, she might know that stuff, too."</div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-88928041184120526002014-06-29T08:49:00.000-07:002014-07-23T06:02:41.315-07:00The new girl<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She was coming in on the Tuesday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On Monday afternoon, I heard my boss on the phone: </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">“You’re so funny,” she cackled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’d been at work for two months and had barely reached the trying-to-make-a-joke
point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The following morning, just before her arrival, I heard someone say to the boss: “I’ll get her a cup of tea and make her feel nice and welcome”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Oh, don’t worry about that, she’ll be fine. She’s a feisty one”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Within an hour of her arriving, she had spoken more to the two boys sat
next to her than I ever had. She hurt her ribs in the marathon at the
weekend, she said. She talked about her running group, and I concluded that being on
the mailing list for a book club I’d never actually been to was almost the same thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The way she was talking, I thought she already knew everyone. But she didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As the week went by, we started working together. One quiet, mid-week
morning, she gave me some advice, and as I walked home later, I thought about how she hadn’t made me feel like I’d been doing anything wrong,
or that I'd not been putting enough effort in – but I felt sufficiently
motivated to do better, as if it was my own idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She didn’t point anything out, patronise me or make me act defensively. In fact,
I'd been completely honest with her about what had been holding me
back, irrational assumptions I had made and problems I was facing. This was new. P</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">eople giving me advice usually just made me uncomfortable.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcwtrFDFDxVSqgNbHKto_Mq7_WVr9D5-54f8X5wTeZg8DHqOKboSeNoC69afpwfOaRXh3N0uU79oARLI5HiJlfNgp89UNerZkjVuW0FOj23th84SkHqEWerpGRnLje4rX4Uw3Dm248nhQ/s1600/200783_10150128773484088_7043381_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcwtrFDFDxVSqgNbHKto_Mq7_WVr9D5-54f8X5wTeZg8DHqOKboSeNoC69afpwfOaRXh3N0uU79oARLI5HiJlfNgp89UNerZkjVuW0FOj23th84SkHqEWerpGRnLje4rX4Uw3Dm248nhQ/s1600/200783_10150128773484088_7043381_n.jpg" height="300" style="cursor: move;" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">She called everyone “sweetheart”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I learnt that she’d worked around the world, but it was nice to back
home in London, she said. I liked hearing that even those who are way more exciting than I am still have a longing for the familiar. Maybe we had some things in common, after all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Her weekend was going to be full of various forms of exercise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She found out she had a friend working in an office nearby. As she went
off to see him on her lunch break, I did my usual walk to the fridge and back to
my desk.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The furthest I’d ever gone at lunch was to the nearest bench,
and straight back again because it was hot. Not worth the bother, I decided.
Plus, there was nothing exciting that was close enough to get to in a
lunch hour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She came bouncing down the stairs an hour later. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Where have you been?” asked the boys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I’ve been picking some blackberries from a bush just down the path. They're delicious”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
I closed the plastic box of my Co-op sushi and squinted towards the light of the door.<br />
<br />
Just when I thought we could be friends.Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-18823502275138400762014-06-24T12:25:00.001-07:002014-06-24T12:28:05.764-07:00The highs of my trampoline <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was younger, I had a trampoline. When I say younger, I mean from around
the ages of 15 to 18. But being a bit too old to derive such ecstasy
from what was really just a toy was part of the appeal. Although, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I used it less as a device to defy gravity, and more as a second
bedroom. It was a home a couple of metres from home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It trudged the two-minute walk with me from one house to the next when
the family divided. To begin with, I sought comfort looking out of the unfamiliar
window and seeing how awkwardly it stood in its new, smaller surroundings. Looking out of the same window after we'd sold it was painful for a lot longer than it should have been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkCxsw_TDuadFebVLUhrHMYOjy1tWiPm5sBUlF_a7GJRoKe_aknbFksxWMioAjEzI4mwG_YlRK1S27xaSeVIAtgPdWzjBTWKhPgmOost6M59zl0US4aQjObDshQmKjygBy3LmD3yxpLg/s1600/IMG_4243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkCxsw_TDuadFebVLUhrHMYOjy1tWiPm5sBUlF_a7GJRoKe_aknbFksxWMioAjEzI4mwG_YlRK1S27xaSeVIAtgPdWzjBTWKhPgmOost6M59zl0US4aQjObDshQmKjygBy3LmD3yxpLg/s1600/IMG_4243.JPG" height="265" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It made exam revision bearable. It carried my textbooks and acted as the
perfect surface to throw them at. And then our relationship became temporarily
strained as I irrationally blamed it for my getting sunstroke and missing my
English A-level exam. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My fondest memory was in the Easter holidays of 2007. One morning, after
a sleepover at a friend’s, I got the bus home and realised I’d forgotten my
keys and no-one was in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I went to the shop, bought a stack of magazines and sugar in various
forms, and dumped them and myself on the trampoline. It was a really hot day,
and I remember eating a melted Bueno. The trampoline turned the trauma of being
temporarily homeless into a memory I’m so fond of I can remember it better than
most days that have passed since. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On summer evenings I would lie on it, look up at the sky and listen to my
iPod. Useless thoughts would drain out of my head, and the important ones would
file up into a straight line. In my teenage bedroom my problems would feel like
the size of the earth. On the trampoline, I could lie facing the universe and
feel embarrassed for ever thinking such a thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The start of summer makes me think two things: I want
to shave my head, and I miss my trampoline. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I recently moved into a flat where there’s a neighbour’s
trampoline taunting me when I look outside the kitchen window. Last night I was
told that the lucky trampoline owner doesn’t mind sharing, so tonight is the
night. I’m going to take my iPod and my scattered thoughts, clutch one in my
hand and wait for the other to line up neatly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-27024823771127936422014-06-13T12:16:00.000-07:002014-06-13T12:16:09.041-07:00Jess's law<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Today is Friday 13th. But you probably knew that already. I'm guessing you've dodged scaffolding, ran away from a few black cats, got ready without using a mirror and walked to work like you've got a stick up your bum to avoid cracks in the pavement. Or maybe that's just me. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
As unlucky days go, this is the worst - apart from birthdays on February 29th. I've been thinking about luck recently, in particular Sod's law. I've come up with a way to use it to my advantage, and play life at its own, cruel game. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
And what better day to share my wisdom with you than the unlucky Friday 13th? Although, its taken me until the end of the day to publish this post. Unlucky.</div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<i>Been waiting for the bus for ages?</i></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Start tying your hair up - the more complicated the style, the better - or ring someone really important about something really important. The bus will come straight round the corner. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<i>Someone likes you, but the feeling isn't mutual?</i></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Tell them you feel the same. This will be the very moment they decide they love someone else. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<i>It's too hot outside, you're in a rush and feeling flustered? </i></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Leave your umbrella at home. The rain will cool you down in no time. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<i>Feeling like you've gained a few pounds? </i></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Treat yourself to a shopping spree to accommodate your rounder figure. That extra weight weight will drop off immediately.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Hungover, craving a cheeseburger, but can't get out of bed?</i><br />
<br />
Tell your friends you're becoming a vegetarian from now on. That cheeseburger will find its way to you in seconds.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<i>Is your laptop playing up?</i></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
Get an IT person round immediately. As soon as they lay eyes on it, it'll work better than it ever has before. </div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br />
<i>Waiting for an important parcel?</i><br />
<br />
Take all your clothes off and start fake-tanning. That doorbell will be music to your ears in no time.<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Invited to a party you really don't want to go to?</i><br />
<br />
Book a plumber on the same day, and you can guarantee your valid excuse will knock on the door just when you should be leaving for the party.<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Waiting for that special someone to text you back?</i><br />
<br />
Find the nearest person and tell them you're fed up and you're swearing off men/women for ever. Reply: guaranteed.</div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-71687134983408510562014-06-05T13:54:00.000-07:002014-06-05T13:54:28.703-07:00Agoraphobia<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You know those precious moments when you remember you should
probably be happy to be alive? The moments that inspire you to live
each day like it's your last? Whether it's grabbing the banister just before
you fall down the stairs, or getting to the end of an episode of anything with
Jack Whitehall in it, these sorts of experiences often give us a renewed sense
of our mortality.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVosrZHYRRcvYuLWmcjbDMY_aHfoc4uui0E3AwpSLS7tjGVjW8C3h4pq6L7KCCNoVEfNhDj2rDaV2GqFOV4ld9hk5R9IUXI42aTk0oew1jV73gzL6EhJI7QJz_LiWyhENzoJ2CYjzKNo/s1600/270917_10150238021509088_1909399_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVosrZHYRRcvYuLWmcjbDMY_aHfoc4uui0E3AwpSLS7tjGVjW8C3h4pq6L7KCCNoVEfNhDj2rDaV2GqFOV4ld9hk5R9IUXI42aTk0oew1jV73gzL6EhJI7QJz_LiWyhENzoJ2CYjzKNo/s1600/270917_10150238021509088_1909399_n.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">They’re the moments we think, “oh my God, I’m going to die someday”,
and you don’t let anything annoy you for the next day and a half. And then
Facebook takes a while to load and you go back to a sustainable level of
gratitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m sure this happens to all of us on a regular basis. It’s
a cycle of “Oh wow, I’m alive and it’s amazing” and “why is there ten minutes until my next bus and why is life so
unfair?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But there’s one constant source of perspective that stays
with me, and does make me feel grateful every single day. It’s not
often talked about, and it’s something I don’t tend to bring up in conversation.
But after suffering with agoraphobia intermittently for two years, its presence
is always in the back of my mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At its worst, I spent a very long six months watching the world from one window. I
didn’t feel human. Everything I knew life to be just shifted. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Agoraphobia takes you to an extremely disorientated place where the world is a threat - the environment you grew up in, the green you watched watched turn to brown every year, the dirt that stuck under your fingernails until you were well into double digits. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst thing is knowing you won’t get better. Not thinking, knowing: there’s no doubt in your mind that you and the outside world will never touch again. But if I could tell anyone with agoraphobia one thing, it’s that even if you believe it will never get better, that doesn’t mean it won’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year later, I’m halfway through a two-month freelance job - and, aside from a few hiccups, I'm doing it. Every evening when I get the bus home, I
feel proud of myself for doing something so simple: sitting still in the
outside world, and feeling safe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was no big realisation or groundbreaking moment for me,
just a gradual improvement that I know could be completely reversed in an
instant. But for now, and hopefully for ever, it’s only a memory. One that
makes me so, so happy to be able to go for a walk, pop out to get milk, and get on
a bus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For a long time I thought I was weaker than everyone who
walked past my window. I slowly realised I was just different, and when agoraphobia abates, it can open up a completely new world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-32961048876639711872014-06-02T12:01:00.002-07:002014-06-02T12:01:29.738-07:00The future of apps<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last Friday, I came home from work wanting chocolate and solitude. But a couple of my flatmates were in the garden, and looming introvert guilt prevailed over Friday fatigue, so I joined them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I would say the conversation quickly turned to the topic of Tinder, but I don't remember it ever <i>not</i> being about Tinder. They showed me how it worked (yes, I am that sheltered, apparently) and then I watched as they flicked</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> through it, saying yes or no to a blur of faces that were either "fit" or "ugly".</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I said I would be too scared to ever use it in case I didn't get any interest, since it's based purely on looks. (And this was before this morning, when an entire fridge door fell on my face - but that's another story.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Oh, girls always get dates on here", my male flatmate bitterly assured me as he swiped with the precision and ferocity that only comes with experience. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">They both sat, making the odd noise in accordance to how beautiful or disgusting particular faces were. Both perfectly nice people, both spending their Friday nights in an area packed with other eligible people, swiping through their phones and potentially declining the loves of their life because of one unflattering photo. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know I'm very late in learning about Tinder, especially since there's now a version being developed for the elderly (which I assume is exactly the same but with bigger buttons). But I'm a bit shocked. We're not even judging people by their looks anymore, we're judging them by their two-dimensional looks. In one second. Repeatedly. And at the same time, allowing people do the same to us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It made me think about what the future of technology could look like if we continue down this route: ignoring social norms and human decency in favour of time, ease and personal gain. Here are my very scientific predictions. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<h2 style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Apps of the future</span></b></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ejector seats you can activate when you're interviewing someone and decide you don't want to hire them</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A button that zaps people's clothes off if their outfit is offensive and you don't want to look at it for another second. And another button that puts them back on if the alternative is worse</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A special GPS that hones in on the nearest pigeon who's desperate for the loo, and sends them directly above the awkward conversation you need to get out of</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A button to open up a hole in the floor when people who tell you about their dreams</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When someone makes a sexist remark, press a button to give you an instant, full-on beard </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A claw that comes out of your phone and separates touchy-feely couples on the morning commute. Pair with a deadpan expression for full effect. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">An app that plays music over people's voices when you ask them how they are and they actually start to answer the question with an answer that extends beyond "I'm good thanks"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A laser that temporarily blinds the person delivering your takeaway so they can't judge you </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A real-life Photoshop, in case the person you're talking to has a facial feature that really annoys you</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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A button that gives you a new hairstyle so you're mildly, but not inconveniently, unrecognisable to people getting on the bus who you know but don't want to talk to</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Chairs that start spinning violently when someone in a coffee shop is only pretending to do work on their laptop</span></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-71181893492262989592014-05-26T13:11:00.000-07:002014-05-26T13:24:51.758-07:00Life without a smartphone<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgcxumyRuH5Enb3KVNcubaRLy9RJI7nnqOsc-XYgrcYzDOh-7x_LnbqF9uqZaFEh-7cMHNFfuFiWmPRmy6GNAeRTTk3DCJbcQHp-q52oDNdrJrBSAGc0YzLfWyXb7sAYz4UNUfYXL2xk/s1600/dhgxkjdhsf.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMgcxumyRuH5Enb3KVNcubaRLy9RJI7nnqOsc-XYgrcYzDOh-7x_LnbqF9uqZaFEh-7cMHNFfuFiWmPRmy6GNAeRTTk3DCJbcQHp-q52oDNdrJrBSAGc0YzLfWyXb7sAYz4UNUfYXL2xk/s1600/dhgxkjdhsf.png" height="289" width="320" /></a>You might have wondered, maybe just for a moment, what it’s like to live in another country. Maybe you’ve pondered how different things would be if you were a goat. Perhaps you’ve let your imagination run wild and you’ve pictured yourself at 10 Downing Street, running the country. But even a childhood spent binging on Roald Dahl can’t set the imagination up to fathom what it’s like being a 20-something without a smartphone.<br />
<br />
Well, I’m about to share something pretty special with you. I’m not a goat, or David Cameron, but I do live my life with a Sellotaped, five-year old Blackberry without most of its functions. It can ring and text people, (as long as I don’t need to use the ‘a’ key) but who uses a phone to do that anymore?<br />
<br />
It’s an assumption that everyone has a smartphone these days. I feel both inferior and superior with my little Blackberry – I can pretend it’s a choice, a stand against consumerism – when really, I'm stuck with it because I spend my money on nail polishes instead. <br />
<br />
Rather than explaining how I make it through the day, I thought I’d tell you the pros and cons, just in case you ever fancy a downgrade. And because there’s little else to do with my time apart from widen my vocabulary of words with no ‘a’ in them. <br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>+</b></span><br />
<br />
Saving time<br />
<br />
A Blackberry doesn’t need as much charging, mainly because it doesn’t need using. I save a lot of valuable time by not having to plug my phone into its charger and take it out again.<br />
<div>
<br />
<br />
Nostalgia<br />
<br />
Every day I’m reminded of what it was like to live in the olden days. I feel like I’m reliving history without the plague and it’s rather liberating. <br />
<br />
<br />
No distractions<br />
<br />
You might sit on a train or stand in a queue and play your Candy Birds. But I can wonder about the world's bigger questions, look around at the delicate pleasures of nature that we never usually notice, and scare people when they look up for a second and see someone looking into space instead of at a mobile device. <br />
<br />
It means you notice things – the sneaky crotch-scratch, sheepish nose-pick or de-wedgie. Not that I enjoy seeing those things, but I’m sure they’re more interesting than… I don’t really know what you do on smartphones these days. <br />
<br />
<br />
Advertising immunity<br />
<br />
Brands target people with the assumption they all have smartphones. ‘Upload a photo and tweet us’, ‘scan our QR code’, ‘download our app’ etcetera. But they don’t care about me, and I’m rather glad. <br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">-</span></b><br />
<br />
Feeling uncool<br />
<br />
I’ve spent my Bank Holiday weekend enjoying a new subscription to the New York Times. I’m well aware that I’m so uncool I’m probably partly to blame for global warming. But not having a smartphone means you have no idea what’s going on. I only learnt what Tinder was three days ago (although I wish I could unlearn it). <br />
<br />
<br />
Getting lost<br />
<br />
The geography of London resembles someone eating a map and then regurgitating it. Or that’s what it feels like without a smartphone, anyway. Getting lost is just part of the deal when you have a crap phone - but at least I don't look like the idiot spinning round in circles as he swears at Google Maps for nearly getting him run over (another gem you often notice when you're not on your phone).<br />
<br />
<br />
Having to use my brain<br />
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<br /></div>
Ideas for blog posts like this one have to be scribbled down with a pen and paper, or just remembered in my brain. I know, unheard of. I can't Google on-the-go, look at the weather forecast or check where the nearest Tesco is. But I do have a game called Word Mole, so don't feel too sorry for me. </div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-88057636395581553192014-05-19T13:40:00.000-07:002014-05-19T13:40:33.630-07:00The saga of Sarah Millican's Baftas dress<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last year, Sarah Millican turned up to the Baftas wearing a dress and
shoes, probably like most other women in attendance. And you’ve probably heard
what happened next – she checked Twitter on the way home and saw a barrage of
self-appointed fashion experts who felt compelled to tell her she looked fat
and ugly in her disgusting dress. And we won’t even mention the black shoes she
had the audacity to pair with it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was enough to make her cry. A grown woman, a comedian, no less – who we
can’t imagine crying, ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year later she writes an <a href="http://www.radiotimes.com/news/2014-05-15/sarah-millican-twitter-was-a-pin-to-my-excitable-bafta-balloon">article
for the Radio Times</a> to tell the rest of us – the ones who don’t have the
image of her dress burned into our memories – what happened to the one of the
loveliest, funniest people in the public eye, before wearing it again, one year later, to perform a stand-up gig. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I see someone walking down the street wearing florescent harem pants
with stilettos and a beret, I will internally raise my eyebrows (or externally,
if they’re facing away from me). I pass judgement in an instant, but then I just
as quickly regret it. The adult side of my brain scolds the insecure part –
because we all know that’s all it is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The fact that this is just the way my classmates and I behaved throughout
my school years isn’t a good enough excuse, nor is the fact that everyone
around me does it now. But voicing those opinions, and directing them to the person in question, goes way beyond just correcting something we've been socialised to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s the sad truth that what happened to Sarah won’t come as much of a
shock to most of us. But before we just label it as sexist and continue with
our lives, we should look at another, equally vicious culprit: fashion. Out-of-context fashion, to be precise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last week I read an</span><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/fashion/fashion-blog/2014/may/09/the-trip-to-italy-holiday-fashion-lessons-for-men" style="font-family: inherit;"> article picking apart the fashion choices</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> of Rob Brydon and
Steve Coogan in BBC Two's The Trip to Italy - another example of comedians being </span>condemned<span style="font-family: inherit;"> for
their fashion choices. It makes as much sense as criticising a
musician for having less-than-perfect shoelace-tying skills. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As lovely and pretty and aspirational as it is, sometimes fashion </span>–<span style="font-family: inherit;"> and people who impart its questionable ways on those who have
better things to worry about (like providing a distraction to our inevitable
impending death with their brilliant senses of humour) <o:p></o:p></span>should just shut up.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 15.75pt;">The way Sarah described picking
out her dress with her friend, and ‘oohing’ at it in the changing rooms, was
extremely cute. And most of us can relate to it in some way – we go somewhere feeling great, only
to find out others don’t quite agree. And it doesn't feel good. And to know Sarah's bubble </span></span><span style="line-height: 21px;">promptly</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 15.75pt;"> exploded everywhere at the hands of people sat in food-stained pyjamas and mismatched socks is a little bit heartbreaking. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 15.75pt;">For all it matters, I think her dress was lovely. But that's just the point: it really doesn't. </span></span></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-52146031949694562072014-05-15T01:20:00.000-07:002014-05-15T01:56:00.687-07:00An evening with Oliver Burkeman<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It started with frustration. A self-induced, self-indulgent strop about
where my life is going. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">These moments are usually fleeting, and my familiar
blanket of delusion soon returns to remind me everything will work out
okay. But in the rare cases it takes a while to return, I email
Oliver Burkeman. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This has happened twice. Last summer I emailed him for advice and his
thoughtful, considered reply still sits in my inbox and is visited regularly.
Some people have a bath with a glass of wine - I read a one year-old email from
Oliver Burkeman when I need a pick-me-up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Last week, in the fog of my mini meltdown, I emailed him again (resisting referring to him as Ol, on the off-chance he'd forgotten our history). I
told him I would be attending his Guardian masterclass, and asked if he'd have
time for a chat at some point during the evening. He said to make myself known,
and he was sure we'd have a chance to talk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I should have known, of course, that I wouldn't approach him. Too
British, and too weighed down by the awkward feeling of going to
an event where I knew no-one, I didn't dare talk to him. Nevertheless, the
evening was still amazing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCokd_nhaswgnq0ska9mOcK_rSn3SzTHwuwqwvSybH3Ared9PpXQDRtw-jl6o5WFYssunIMLmbqQpHogIYeOKLPyDZYOn3JmDoE-M0GBvnn2Dvj6WHxAh-lREr5ld798qO0mh4J3xRg3c/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCokd_nhaswgnq0ska9mOcK_rSn3SzTHwuwqwvSybH3Ared9PpXQDRtw-jl6o5WFYssunIMLmbqQpHogIYeOKLPyDZYOn3JmDoE-M0GBvnn2Dvj6WHxAh-lREr5ld798qO0mh4J3xRg3c/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" height="476" width="640" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">The class, hosted at the Guardian, focused on creative work:</span> finding the time and willpower to do it.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: inherit;">Oliver started off with his key piece of advice: schedule time in advance for ‘deep work’, and ‘do it non-perfectionistically'. I’m not sure that’s a word – but if Oliver says it is, let's just go with it. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the topic of getting work done, he said, it’s amazing how much completely useless advice there is. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are two problems, Oliver said, that he encounters. First, there’s
The Bullshit Problem, where things sound like advice but even the people who promote the advice don't follow it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And The Cheesiness Effect: most of the methods that work are “extraordinarily excruciating and embarrassing, and you wouldn’t want
to admit that you actually do them”. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">He used the example of writing a gratitude journal, admitting that
he does this himself. It turns out, to my sheer delight and relief, Oliver Burkeman
is <i>so</i> Oliver Burkeman. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here are a few of the key things I picked up from the evening:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>There will always be too much to do<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most advice assumes it’s possible to get everything done, but the
idea you’ll have time once all of the little things are out of the way isn’t
true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Scheduling time in advance works<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I’ve asked a lot of people how they get the
stuff they’re known for done, and they always say by scheduling time in advance. I
know it’s mundane and dull, but this method embodies many psychological truths.
Planned things are more likely to happen”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Focus on one thing at once</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“It’s good to get everything out of your head before you begin
working. The human brain can’t concentrate on too many things at once. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">As soon as you have somewhere with everything written down, it
clears up a lot of space”. Oliver advises keeping one long list of everything
that needs doing. Just knowing it’s there helps, he said.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>You don’t have to feel like it</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oliver said this is his ultimate insight into fighting
procrastination. “You don't have to feel like doing work. You can feel those feelings, accept them, and do it anyway”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Distraction isn't a disaster</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I recently started working in a co-working space where there’s
lots of noise, and being annoyed by it is quite conducive. Putting my
headphones on and blocking out the noise is part of the ritual”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Talk to others<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Never underestimate a second mind - there are things that come out
of conversations that you can’t get elsewhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Halfway through the evening, Oliver was joined by fellow Guardian
journalist Hadley Freeman. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Most Tuesdays, when I sit down to write my column, I’m always
convinced I have no ideas or opinions, but it always happens,” she said. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">This was a relief to hear, because I go through the same thing every time I write anything.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the topic of the internet, Hadley was especially ardent. She
referred to it as “the curse of humanity”. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Great writers of the past wouldn’t have done so much if they had
the internet, she joked. Very. Good. Point. Another interesting piece of advice she offered was that we shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves because we don’t
see other people’s struggles or failures. We only see their successes.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She talked about the merits of getting outside and away. Oliver
agreed, saying perspective is important: “the crucible of your creativity is over
there, not here. I have insight when I’m on a plane into how I could reorganise
my life… probably because I know I can’t do it at the time.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I left the class thinking I'd picked up a few things that might pop into my mind when I'm
struggling. But the effects have been immediate. Yesterday morning, I cut my
getting-ready time in half and spent half an hour writing before leaving for
work. This is unprecedented. But I don't think it was all down to the
Masterclass per se. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not to knock Oliver's masterclassing skills, which were excellent, but going
to a place where you'd love to work and listening to people whose careers you want
was the most motivating part. Humans are simple creatures - having a visual helps. Even if being on the inside of the Guardian feels
like only being allowed to lick a chocolate bar before it’s taken away from you.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s not easy for those of us who have a gap between where they
are and where they want to be. But I learnt that it’s good for the soul to meet
people you look up to and discover they’re exactly like you’d hoped. Oliver was
amazingly articulate, effortlessly funny and completely unpretentious. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
Before moving to London 18 months ago, I didn't think the city would serve me such an unpalatable lesson in the virtues of patience and resolution. If I had imagined myself sitting in the Guardian one day, it would’ve been because I walked into a job.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
Instead, I was to sit and listen someone I really admire advise me on how to keep going through failures and doubt. My head is definitely no longer in the clouds - it has well and truly fallen on its arse, thankfully. But that's okay. The Guardian office has <i>amazing</i> chairs. </div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-60533040491988471392014-05-11T10:16:00.000-07:002014-05-11T10:16:59.539-07:00Moving and meditation <div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I write this I can see three boxes. The air reeks of
unfamiliarity and I don’t think I’ve figured out the perfect height for my
chair yet. Moving house is a puzzling ordeal. But what’s most puzzling is that the
place I called home for over a year only felt like home in the weeks leading up
to the move. I felt like I hadn't done enough, seen enough, or put enough effort into enjoying it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I questioned everything: why have I not walked down this road
before? Why haven’t I made the most of living here? Will anywhere else feel
like home? And yesterday, just before paying someone one day’s wages to throw
my stuff in a van and take it down the road – it happened again. That feeling
of regret, that things could have been better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the middle of last-minute packing yesterday morning, I threw
myself onto the balcony for some fresh air. Coughing, sniffing, sneezing -
making dust allergies look sexy – I stood, gratefully swapping dust for
pollution, and saw something out of the corner of my eye. On the balcony next
to mine, which hovered about one metre to the right, I saw a woman sitting
down, facing away from me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She was facing the glass panel that made up the sides of the
balcony, so I could see her reflection. She had her eyes closed, her legs
crossed, her back straight. She was meditating. If my throat wasn’t so closed up
I probably would have made one of the multitude of sounds we humans make when something
shocks us. How on earth was she meditating, I thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The traffic beneath us, the children crying out to their parents, the
reversing lorries, my coughing fit – nothing was disturbing her. We lived so
close to each other, yet our interpretations of the tiny part of earth we
occupied were worlds apart. The whole time I lived there, I hadn’t been able to meditate
with the door closed, never mind doing it outside in the big, noisy world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My first thought was that she must be pretending. How could she
possibly mediate with all that noise? And the three wasps I’d ran away from
that morning – my screaming was just another sound she could ignore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I realised that I’d made meditation stressful. An exercise that’s
been proven to lower stress and anxiety, improve almost everything that can be
improved, </span> had <span style="font-family: inherit;">somehow become an exercise in self-criticism.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why can’t I clear my mind? Why are my deepest, darkest
insecurities and fears coming to the surface? Why can’t I sit straight? How am
I supposed to concentrate with so much noise? Every time I've tried to meditate my focus has been on this internal conflict. I stress that I’m not
doing it right, that I’ll never feel any of the benefits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Seeing that woman with her perfect posture, her stillness, her
serene face in the reflection, taunting me, made me think I could </span>have done better. If she can do it, and I can’t, she must be more resourceful than me, more patient and just better at life. <br /><br />I’m not sure exactly why I took it as such an insult. But in future, if you’re going to meditate, do it where no one can see you and stop being so selfish. </div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-68517619835540190972014-05-04T09:35:00.002-07:002014-05-04T09:35:42.119-07:00Finally freelance<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You
know when </span>you wake up in different surroundings and, for <span style="font-family: inherit;">the first few seconds, think
you’re still at home? Well, my alarm has gone off every morning this week, and every morning I thought I was dreaming it.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
feel for my phone and squeeze all of its buttons in the hope of pressing the
one that will bring back the silence. I run my fingers over the Sellotape holding the
buttons together as I remember the information that seven
hours of broken sleep has pushed away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
get ready with precision, forcing an unnatural delicacy upon my limbs in a half-hearted attempt to not wake anyone up. I inevitably half-drop my mug onto the
kitchen counter as I make coffee, and throw my make-up brushes out of my hand
and down the hallway as I go to open the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As
the light outside lifts to its full form, I transform into a presentable grown-up.
Yes, I might be hiding a box of raisins reminiscent of primary school lunch
boxes, Ribena and a Malteaster Bunny inside my bag, but on the outside I look like a
person who’s going to work. A person with responsibilities and a schedule so busy
she feels the need to have a calendar on her laptop and a permanent frown.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m not that person, but it’s nice to feel like it, even if it’s only
for the duration of my walk to work. Yes, work. If you read my last blog post
you’ll know things were getting pretty ugly – but, for this week and next, I’ve
been given a much-needed break from the self-loathing depths of job-searching. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m
halfway through a two-week freelance job, and it's already
reminding me of what it feels like to be a functioning grown-up. It has also
taught me a lesson in accepting transiency. Two weeks is a tiny amount of time – but rather than dread the drop back down to unemployed reality, I'm just enjoying it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In
my morning daze, the blissfully green 20-minute walk to work almost tricks me
into forgetting I’m in London. I leave the flat, turn my back on the
skyscrapers in the skyline and walk towards the park. A few suited men on bikes
and mums hidden behind prams mingle into one as I wonder how different our days
will be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once
I reach the park, the view spreads out in front of me and it’s wider than my
eyes are used to. I walk down the footpath at a pace that would make people on the other side of London want to kill me. It’s only been five days, but I’ve
already named one group of four humans and four weirdly similar-looking dogs as
Dog Club. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
walk past Dog Club and smile at the dogs. I’m still afraid to give any eye
contact to Londoners, especially before 9 am. But the cuteness of the dogs is soon offset by the abundance of crows on the ground. Every morning I tell myself
they’re just innocent animals, but to look at them is to look in the face of
pure evil. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdyjOCzU3O0zXh79Zt5dGhcK4o2IGF2-K2VmyZMeMz-QwwcpnaEqK01jQvlxJJDoBd42kX2qbX4Cl27maFo5z3_KTxtQaFV3K7XFiniKEczMVZJFgeSOXE0qjkHMxVLoS4VgffVI6_B0/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdyjOCzU3O0zXh79Zt5dGhcK4o2IGF2-K2VmyZMeMz-QwwcpnaEqK01jQvlxJJDoBd42kX2qbX4Cl27maFo5z3_KTxtQaFV3K7XFiniKEczMVZJFgeSOXE0qjkHMxVLoS4VgffVI6_B0/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" height="435" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On
Wednesday morning I see an unlikely friendship blossom between an
enthusiastically gesticulating northern man and a slightly more uptight,
better-dressed Londoner. They reach the end of the park, politely enquire after the
names of each other’s dogs and part with the promise to see each other again
soon. I try to disguise my smile as something hay fever-related, but they're not looking, anyway. New friends only have eyes for each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once
I reach the end of the park, I cross the road to walk the last part of the
journey and </span>I have the pavement almost entirely to myself <span style="font-family: inherit;">for the full three minutes. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">As
I turn into work, a milkman says good morning to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I press the buzzer and
open the gate while I think about all the tiny things that have put me in a
good mood before my day's even really begun. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Two strangers making friends, cute dogs, a
seemingly insignificant hello from a stranger – and I realise how living in a
big city has lowered my expectations of human interaction and heightened the likelihood of them making me feel less lonely.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And
just as I wonder about how funny life can be, I walk past a studio with a live camel standing inside, and climb onto the boat, down the
stairs, and open up my laptop as I throw my bag on the desk.</span></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-8649279565160675952014-04-19T13:23:00.001-07:002014-04-19T13:25:50.385-07:00The worst job interview I’ve ever had<div class="MsoNormal">
Interviews are funny things. Trying to remember the very best
bits about yourself to regurgitate in front of strangers in a coherent manner.
Not knowing what tricky questions you might get asked but remaining a picture
of calm. Showing your easy-to-work-with friendly side as you
feel eyes on you and pens writing down whatever’s coming out of your mouth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For those of you lucky enough to have a job, you might not remember
the horror of going into the unknown, of being asked what your strengths and weakness are, of trying to politely drink your glass of water with trembling hands. It's like food poisoning – it’s funny
afterwards. But any fellow job-seekers will know that, while you’re going through
the process of interviews, the fear is deep and the fear is real. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I’ve never had any particularly scarring interviews. I was
actually beginning to warm to them. Apart from the rejection phone call
afterwards, they weren’t so bad. In fact, I’d even managed to laugh in some of
them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then something happened. Earlier this week I had the
weirdest, worst interview ever. I struggled with whether I should write about
it in case a potential employer reads it. But I don’t want to censor myself. I don’t
believe it was so much a reflection on me (I hope), rather just an unfortunate
situation. So, get comfy, because it’s story time!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Wednesday this week, I turned up at the door of an agency
in central London. I hadn't spoken to the man who would
be interviewing me, and I didn’t even know exactly what I was interviewing for.
Nevertheless, I thought I didn’t have anything to lose by going. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned up at quarter to the hour, fifteen minutes early.
The office manager opened the door and, looking confused, told me to go away
and have a coffee, and come back a bit later on because I was too early. So off
I went, and came back at a more ‘acceptable’ time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s had to run to a last-minute meeting, can you come back
tomorrow?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
try to trust my instincts as much as possible, but in this case I went against
my better judgement and returned the following day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat waiting (this time I’d been upgraded to a chair in the office), and the guy interviewing me turned up five minutes late and kept me
waiting while he talked to his colleagues for another ten.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The whole office was one long room. I looked around at everyone
working at their desks, wondering why not one person looked up at me and
smiled. They all looked miserable, which should have been another indicator. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After snapping at the office manager, the guy eventually
took me to his “office”, which was two chairs at the end of the room. He asked me about my degree, which quickly turned to the
topic of his degree. He said, “I found English really easy in school. It’s probably
because my grandfather was a playwright, so it’s in the genes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He told me he’s reading Shantaram, mainly because it reminds
him of being in, I don’t know, some place I’ve never heard of. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So you like reading articles? What do you read?” he asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Guardian.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, so you’re a lefty then. Most northerners are.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t have a chance to reply before he started talking
again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So you came out of uni, you’ve done a three-month
internship and now you do freelance work.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was too amazed by him to realise he hadn’t even read
through my CV, because I think he thought I’d never had a job before. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You’ve been out of uni three years now. I’d be interested
to know why people don’t want you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He worked out that I’ve been unemployed for ten months, and then
proceeded to tell me there’s a six-month window of unemployment before it
starts to look dodgy to employers. He knew this because he’d been a recruitment
consultant, too, of course. As well as a ‘writer’, as you may have guessed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
I told him I was doing some freelance work. <br />
<br />
“That’s the other thing,” he said. “Employers don’t trust freelancers. They can’t adapt to working office hours.”<br />
<br />
He said the best he could do was offer me an internship. After he’d had a think about it, obviously. <br />
<br />
“You have to love travel if you want to work here. If you don’t, it’ll become apparent really quickly”. <br />
<br />
<div>
Darn it, that’s me out of the question then. </div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-45196970185918832992014-04-14T14:13:00.000-07:002014-04-14T14:19:18.534-07:00Beating anxiety and stress: it’s time to press playI read an article a few months ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. It says a lot that, through the deluge of information and opinions our brains sift through every day, something has remained in my mind for months afterwards.<br />
<br />
I’m referring to <a href="http://www.dumbofeather.com/charlie-hoehn-cured-his-anxiety/">this article</a>, in which one man explains how he overcame his anxiety disorder with one simple theory. I know, that sounds like the subject of a spam email. <br />
<br />
The man, Charlie Hoehn, had debilitating anxiety for over a year. He said he’d tried everything they tell you to try, including yoga, meditation and exercise. His anxiety only alleviated by learning, or relearning, how to approach life, in particular, play, more like a child. <br />
<br />
Charlie’s “epiphany” came after reading the book Play by Dr Stuart Brown, which talks about play being essential to our mental health. It says you can become “play deprived”, which can lead to stress, depression, and anxiety. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
After reading the book and changing how he approached play, Charlie was back to his anxiety-less self in just one month. He said:<br />
<br />
“Kids don’t run to get in shape; they run to feel the grass beneath their feet and the wind on their face. Kids don’t chat over coffee; they pretend and make jokes and explore the outdoors. Kids don’t network; they bond while playing.<br />
<br />
“There is no ego or guilt,” he says. “There is no past to regret, and no future to worry about. Kids just play.”<br />
<br />
Charlie realised he had unwittingly starved himself of play, and shunned any activity that wasn’t perceived as productive or 'meaningful'. "Even when I was with friends or doing something that was supposed to be fun, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the time I was wasting,” he says.<br />
<br />
And this was where he was going wrong. “Play is where our subconscious naturally guides us. Play is the state where we are truly ourselves, once we let go of our egos and the fear of looking stupid. Play immerses us in the moment.”<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQZtROBWEIPuJww-Ln-f22hZw3R_mzXH398FAgL-r1D73kxlfkkPg5aPgTJ0CTFF1yqlsBpeTXATGtYztSDOTDjBxBi3WcORHEW9DOBiHu4TEq9AN9gUF42sUdzWBq550RzT1hQnxQMw/s1600/315476_10150312417539593_3211126_n.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQZtROBWEIPuJww-Ln-f22hZw3R_mzXH398FAgL-r1D73kxlfkkPg5aPgTJ0CTFF1yqlsBpeTXATGtYztSDOTDjBxBi3WcORHEW9DOBiHu4TEq9AN9gUF42sUdzWBq550RzT1hQnxQMw/s1600/315476_10150312417539593_3211126_n.JPG" height="288" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
In the article, Charlie says that play “destroys” anxiety. <br />
<br />
One reason it has resounded with me is because I do this all the time. I often can’t relax when I’m doing something that isn't productive. My work spills over into the weekend. The way I’ve always looked at it, a writer’s (I use that word loosely) work never ends. I could always be reading more, learning more, writing more, thinking harder.<br />
<br />
Charlie said that his way of life made him believe he had to be serious in order to succeed. But when I think about it, there really isn’t much evidence to the contrary. The reason grown-ups assume they have to be serious is because any other approach isn’t well received. <br />
<br />
The perfect example of this is when something funny happens in public. A man runs for the bus and misses it. Or perhaps he trips a little while eating an ice cream. Or maybe he walks down a busy street with his flies wide open.<br />
<br />
I can’t help but laugh when things like this happen, because these kind of observations are a complete contrast to the seriousness dominating the adult-run outdoors. But if I sense someone catching me laughing, I'll hide it with a weird-looking yawn.<br />
<br />
The only thing that stops us seeing the world like children is this fear of judgement. Bills and work problems aren’t an excuse for being serious. If anything, they should increase our appetite for fun.<br />
<br />
When I was young, getting grounded was the end of the world. As a child, everything is fine as long as we can play. No fancy cars, designer bags or highly coveted jobs – just play. Just like laughter, play is a release, a reminder of why we’re alive. And as an adult there’s the added dimension of warming nostalgia, of remembering the freeing feeling of being a child.<br />
<br />
As adults we can acknowledge that some things are serious, and require us to be serious too, but that we also need play. Making time to approach the world like a child doesn’t mean our productivity will suffer. If it lowers our stress and anxiety, it's more likely to have the opposite effect.<br />
<br />
I want to stop just <i>thinking </i>about this article, and start changing my approach to extra-curricular activities. A walk for the fun of it, not because it’s healthy and a chance to contemplate the serious things in life. A book because it’s enjoyable, not because it will help my writing. Opening up our imaginations can only lead to good things. Why else do you think children don’t have wrinkles?<br />
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Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4795012833336216960.post-40292412166011426832014-04-06T09:33:00.001-07:002014-04-06T09:38:57.042-07:00My secret affair<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The routine begins with a muslin cloth. It turns a shade darker </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">as it's placed under the steaming tap, weighed down with warm water and flung
over bare skin.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then, the sound of a lid opening: a tiny 'click' with a presence
way beyond its volume. The cleanser is rescued from its bottle with eager, damp fingertips. The sound of the tap stops and the senses become attuned to the cleanser's calming smell and cool touch, gliding across the face with a well-practised
rhythm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then it's time for the towel-pat -
burrowing a wet face into a clean towel and emerging, after movement so
subtle it's invisible to the naked eye, with a dry face and a better feeling
about the day ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJwO_pMtqQAy56M1v8LHOBg-4u5zLJe8GEIkITEIuwyOHXmZOoykLicvtAVUS0xSXDsgx9PdbXFFsSrLNozB335xCPDAu8Owu0adl6cezLrLN2YHwv2AEtPIUEHfrtAR6K7Gww6ld4Iw/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJwO_pMtqQAy56M1v8LHOBg-4u5zLJe8GEIkITEIuwyOHXmZOoykLicvtAVUS0xSXDsgx9PdbXFFsSrLNozB335xCPDAu8Owu0adl6cezLrLN2YHwv2AEtPIUEHfrtAR6K7Gww6ld4Iw/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" height="317" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then the line-up, the privileged few products that stand outside
of the drawer, carefully selected and proudly upright. Inviting pastel shades,
words like 'brightening' and 'smoothing', rounded edges and bold promises, all culminating in one precise, twice-a-day routine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A symphony of unscrewing, clicking,
squeezing and silent concentration ensues. An array of textures and smells mix
together and greet the senses with familiarity. A conundrum of what needs
fixing and what will fix it. What season is it? What will the day consist of? What
problems need fixing? What make-up will be placed on top of it? Many
factors are taken into consideration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The world outside can't be controlled. But
this routine – probably insignificant and definitely monotonous – is an
investment in the future. A guarantee that no matter what else goes wrong, at
least I've tried to make my face look as good as it possibly can.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unlike washing the dishes, it doesn't feel
like a chore. It isn't the kind of activity that makes you acutely aware of the passing
of time and the evil truth that most of life is wasted on the vapid tasks that consume it. This is despite the fact that most evenings I have
to sleepily prop myself on the sink, massaging my head into my hands as I lean on them
for support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I tell myself it's for my own good. Just spending another five minutes dabbing and massaging will ensure that I wake up tomorrow
looking better than ever before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought I was quite good at questioning
the things that we’re in danger of just letting happen. But the other morning, when laying out three different serums to put on different parts of my face, I
realised I'd never really thought about why I put three different serums on different parts of my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't really believe what the
bottles tell me: ‘Your skin will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>appear</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>smoother'. Yes, but it won't<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>be</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>any smoother. What I do believe,
however, is that this is an obsession inherited from my mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She’s not a religious woman, but if she were she would pray to
Elemis. And, just like her ability to deafen and badly injure anyone in a five-metre radius when she so much as hears a wasp, I’ve
picked up my superfluous skincare routine from watching her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I never
suffered with acne, nor with</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> eczema, or any other medical
condition that needs attention. It’s never been a case of </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">needing</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> to own seven different face masks. And it’s the same with
my mother – there’s nothing on her face that needs fixing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a
case of lust, of being drawn in by alluring creams that all smell different,
all feel different, and promise they’ll do something new, something amazing. Every
time I visit home I'm abetted by my mother’s enthusiastic
praises of a new moisturiser. Logically, I know it makes no sense, but I make a mental note to pick some up for myself anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m not sure whether my skincare routine is a comforting reminder
of her when we’re apart, or if it’s in the vain hope to look as good as her in 30 years' time. We may be tremendously gullible and shallow, but
at least we’re doing it together, apart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
don’t like to admit that vanity plays a part, because vanity gets a bad
name. Even if I do secretly hope my efforts are worth something, at least it is
a secret. Between me and my skincare. And now, you. Please don't judge me. You might get frown lines. </span></div>
Jessica Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680894454167044249noreply@blogger.com6