Automated Attack Monkeys, Scalpel Mines, & Acid

As someone who has worked in public houses for many years, I have come to dread "Paddy's" aka St Patrick's Day aka International Get Pissed And Shout At People For No Reason Day.

Even the sanest of people seems to see Paddy's as an excuse to let down their hair, their morals, and more often than you'd think, their trousers. And then sing songs which they think of as Irish (usually something by Thin Lizzy) badly, out of tune, and getting the words worng. Then drink some more. Then throw up.

I fucking hate it.

And tomorrow morning (or rather, later today) I get to go and clean up after it in my workplace. I'm going in an hour before opening tomorrow, and my job will be the toilets. If there's one stall without puke and/or poo smeared all over it I shall count myself lucky.

The Blue Labour idiot has ramped up hatred against immigrants again, some twat has given Rupert Murdoch a Prescott moment, the government has slipped out a load of horrible horrible shite the last couple of days and the media have faithfully concentrated on hackgate instead, and half my party is supporting the badger cull despite there being lots of evidence that it will do knack all good. What is wrong with these people? Why can't they just vaccinate their damn cows? The word vaccination COMES FROM THE LATIN FOR COW for Cthulhu's sake.

Anyway.

I am grumpy, so I am going to watch Black Books because Bernard gives me schadenfreude.

I can understand that the party is in government now, and that we need to be careful.
I can understand that people who have not been to conference before are an unknown quantity, and could cause trouble, perhaps even worse than trouble.
I can understand that the police and insurance companies and venues like this kind of stuff, and we are under pressure to accept it.

What I don't understand is how CRB checking every conference attendee will achieve anything that the physical checks on the door won't. I don't understand why anyone could possibly think this is necessary or proportionate.

And I do not think it's acceptable. I don't think it's acceptable for a party whose leader said he would go to prison rather than accept ID cards to now be letting the police have ANY say, however advisory, in who gets to attend conference. I don't think it's acceptable for two police forces to be CRB checking and storing data on Lib Dem members.

I don't particularly see an issue with myself getting accepted, but it's the principle of the bloody thing. I should not have to ask permission from the rozzers to meet with my party.

So I am conflicted. If I agree to this, if I let myself be CRB checked, that is tacit acceptance of the system. But if I don't, then I can't go to conference to do anything about it.

JazzHands has a suggestion for how this can be solved for this upcoming conference, but for future ones? I suspect this is not just going to be a motion at conference but legislation that is required to bolster the right of members of political groups to free assembly, and that the police should not be allowed to interfere unless there is a credible threat to life and limb, and even then only to prevent injury, but also that insurance companies should not be allowed to require pointless data retention before events can go ahead. Physically checking people are not carrying weapons? That's fair enough. Demanding that they give up a whole slew of sensitive data before they can even go through the physical checks is a step too far.

But none of this solves my problem: I have already paid for registration to conference. I did that in January. Do I submit to the CRB checks and try to make sure this doesn't happen again? Do I refuse to submit data over the internet and instead be subject to police interview once I get there? Do I wait and hope that some solution to this is found before September? Or do I just not go?

The only argument I can see for going at the moment is that if I don't go then the people who think this sort of thing is acceptable have won. And I don't like that thought.

... and all I have the energy to think at the moment is "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh".

I keep thinking if I can just get through the next month, the next week, the next day, the next hour, the next minute... Sometimes I can't. And what happens then is what is affectionately referred to in this house as Jennie having a mental. This is when I am frozen and incoherent and screamy and can't bear to be touched or spoken to, and it usually happens when there is something urgent to do. There are lots of urgent things to do at the moment, and although I have done some of them, I haven't done nearly enough. I don't think I physically, mentally, or emotionally can do enough. And the panic makes me unable to decide which Things are actually important and which ones it's ok to let slip, and makes me much less able to do any of them anyway...

I'd post details but frankly you don't want to know. Cthuhlu, I don't want to know. All I want right now is to be able to go to work, earn my wage, get paid, and pay the rent and bills. It seems that's too much to ask on a number of fronts at the moment.

Why do normal people find this stuff so easy?

I wonder what it's like to not be terrified of opening your mail? I seem to recall it being exciting to get mail when I was a kid, but maybe I just dreamed that.

Maybe one day I'll look back and laugh at this period of my life. I'm sure as shit regretting tempting fate by having for New Year's resolutions that I wouldn't overcommit myself and that I'd get my finances in order.

So, yeah, for those of you who had a tl;dr reaction there: internet activity is still low, and will remain so for the foreseeable future. Sorry.

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Am having a bad brain day. I have things I want to post, but am struggling to word them in such a way that they will be intelligible. This is because my brain is entirely taken up with something I can't post about, and it's not a happy thing, and it won't let me concentrate on anything else.

Suffice it to say that I have Done The Right Thing with regard to a particular situation, and am now going to spend some quality time hating, loathing, and despising myself. No sympathy, please. It's not needed and it won't help. I'll get on to the self-pitying whiner stage soon enough, and I suspect sympathy will be welcome then.

Until that point, I think it's safest if I switch off and withdraw. If you have some urgent need to contact me, you can phone or text. Or leave a comment to this entry and something will get back to you later. Probably.

Because I am poorly and have no spoons, I got into a fight I possibly shouldn't have started last night, with someone who winds me up with his sexist behaviour at regular intervals. I'm not going to link to it, because I don't want this post to be about that specific incident, but about the generality. It ended up with him saying to me that I have no right to complain about him not linking to women's views unless I, personally, spoonfeed him women's views to link to.

Now, my instinctive reaction to that is to think fuck you! Why should I do all your work for you, you lazy git?... But that's possibly counterproductive for two reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, as I have discussed before, men will happily self-promote in ways that women won't. Mediocre men will shout from the rooftops about how awesome they are, and the more mediocre they are, the more they shout; awesome women, because of shyness, or socialisation that women who shout are harpies, or insecurity about their awesomeness, are much less likely to self-promote. This is made worse by the fact that very few people will look beyond what is waved in front of their faces, so the shouty men get noticed and the quiet women don't; very few people are willing to hurt somebody else (of whatever gender) by telling them they are mediocre if they are, and so the mediocre people get promotion they don't deserve, just by being shouty (Iain Dale is a PRIME example of that); and thus the cycle that to be noticed half as much as a man, a woman has to be twice as good continues in our supposedly post-feminist times.

The second reason my reaction is counter-productive is male priviledge. Male opinion aggregators are used to being spoonfed. This is unfair and annoying, but telling them to look beyond their spoonfeeding is telling them to do more work that they don't see a reason to do. Even if that were not the case, it takes a special kind of person to resist being spoonfed, why would anybody give themselves extra work to do?

This gives us two reasons why the blokosphere is self-perpetuating, and those two reasons feed into and reinforce each other. Even a completely non-sexist feminist ally man will often unconsciously perpetuate sexism under these circumstances. This is a problem I have been talking about for years, and I still don't have a suitable sword to cut this Gordian Knot. Nobody else seems to have one either.

How do we go about forging one, people?

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Sometimes objectification makes me laugh.
Sometimes I even do it myself (see icon).
But sometimes it really upsets me.

I wish I knew what the differences were between instances of each. Is it that all objectification is wrong, and I am being bad when I laugh at it or do it myself? Or is it that some objectification is harmless, and some is malicious and hurtful, and that there's a difference between the two, and if so, what is that difference?

Is it that objectifying men is funny and ironic, poking fun at a priviledged group, but objectifying women is participating in the kyriarchy?

Is it that I am fine with objectifying people I don't identify with, but when someone appears to be objectifying a group I belong to then I get upset? I mean, I'm clearly OK with being personally objectified, at least to an extent, or a_r_s_e wouldn't exist, and I wouldn't wear a low cut top for work if I'm particularly in need of tips, but...

Maybe it's much simpler than all that. Maybe I'm just a hypocrite.

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Or is it just that I'm a hypocrite?

Yesterday was something of an emotional roller coaster. Having spent Monday night gently corrupting the eldest Duffettling (he's only 14, so it was verbal corruption only ;) ) I got up on Tuesday and went for my awkward lunch date. Which started off pretty awkward and got progressively less so... Which was good, I think. But then I went back to chez Duffett to get my stuff and was on the end of a few phone calls which it probably would have been politer not to take in Helen's living room, and which involved me being berated and then apologised to and then discovering that my great aunt had died. Which was a bit unexpected.

So I'm a bit emotionally fragile today, and although I have had lots of hugs and a lovely breakfast, I'm still going to turn the phone off and relax for a bit. Relaxing, after all, is sort of the point of having a few days away.

Tonight is dinner with djm4 (with apologies to Hailey and Laurie for picking him over you, but I need to stay in my safe zone for now, I think, and I don't want to be fretting about meeting new people - sorry JQP). Tomorrow is lunch with ginasketch and then home.

Right now? Right now is back to bed for a bit. Laters, all.

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Am noticing a pattern here.

Lovely trip to Luton earlier in the week was lovely, and I had a great time, but am now having a big mood crash and total lack of motivation which happy pills seem unable to touch. I have a big long list of Stuff to Do, including writing three articles before the weekend. I can't work up the enthusiasm to do any of it.

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Sorry for being such a drama queen last night. I seem to have caused a bit of concern...

I was just horrified that a post I had put so much work into still hadn't got the point across. Normally I don't put any work into it, I just spew out what comes into my brain. Maybe that's what I did wrong this time, maybe I worked too hard on it.

Anyway, lots of stuff to do for work over the next few days, because we have a FESTIVAL OF BEER to sort out. So I'll have something else to concentrate on/worry about. I might try again in simpler language with the whole women bloggers thing, especially since Count Packula has pointed me at some interesting new research that backs up my point.

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For various reasons, this week has been pretty shitty. Financial woes are continuing and worsening - Conference didn't help with that; even though we lived very cheaply in Bournemouth, the loss of a week's wage has made a big hit. Depression has also been pretty bad, which buggers up my motivation to do anything other than get drunk and sleep, and I can't afford to get drunk unless other people buy the drink, and then I feel like a freeloading shit. Mat has had a bad back and has needed my support rather than being able to give me his. The wind has played havoc with my garden. The continued fawning over the Tories from all sections of the media is making me ricochet between feeling sick and feeling homicidal. Etc. etc. etc.

But rather than concentrate on all that, I'm going to concentrate on the good stuff. I want to say thank you to some people who have been candles in the darkness.

• My mum, and Ian, who have both been wonderful about taking care of amazing_holly when I haven't been able to due to work and Lib Demmery


• pmoodie, who is one of the best friends a girl could wish for


• amazing_holly, who has been such a good girl, and written some really cool stories.


• My Duracell Bunny, for arranging a visit and giving me something to look forward to.


• And lastly, my poor, long-suffering matgb, who puts up with all my crap uncomplainingly, and holds me when I need to be held, and nags me when I need to be nagged. I don't know where I'd be without him.

Today has been particularly awful; lets put it to bed and see what tomorrow brings.

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We have a dogsitter. My lovely brother, angeliiiii, has volunteered. He is a lovely brother and I love him much. The irony is that upon exiting my place of work this evening I went over on my ankle and it's now all huge and swollen and purple. So even though we have a dogsitter, I'm still not a happy bunny...

I am watching Columbo in bed, with my foot elevated, desperately hoping to be able to walk tomorrow.

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I like the new logged-in homepage. It's one of the things I am clinging to about today which hasn't been really awful and depressing.

The other thing was being out in the garden with amazing_holly planting sweetpea seeds earlier. Yeah, I know, I'm a bit early for late planting and a bit late for regular planting. But she wanted to do it, and it was fun grubbing about in the compost with her.

I'm trying not to think about anything else that happened today. Work was particularly awful; this is made worse by the fact that I've had a good long stretch of really enjoying it, and today was a big jolt. Also Mat was really stressed (for mostly good reasons) so neither of us were in a fit state to be the support to each other we usually are.

Instead, I'm going to run myself a bath, and sink into it, and think about how cool it was to be planting stuff with Hol, and what a little angel she's been today, even though I have been grumpy as all hell.

I am a very lucky mummy.

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