Lagging Behind

Being jetlagged is really rather difficult for me (unlike my father, I seem unable to "just ignore it"). Being at home jetlagged while the Ashes is taking place in Australia is really, truly not helping me get over it.

It's been a bit of a tumultuous thing to get here, but snuggled up with the extremely lovely Betty the white & black cat by me, a cow patterned blanked, a glass of shiraz, cricket on and working away gently while absolutely full of turkey and turkey gravy sandwich, it's rather nice. Oh, and England having a 360 run lead while five down at the MCG doesn't hurt either.

Though You May Not Drive a Great Big Cadillac

The concept of being "thankful" makes the agnostics/atheists among us occasionally feel nervous, it seems to me. Because, of course, to whom are you thankful? So we ought not to feel grateful or thankful, because that seems to give up something in the argument.

But I do feel grateful, thankful. To be honest, it's more of an appreciation of how fortunate one is, and understanding that, in the grand scheme of things, I am one of the luckiest people going. I have good health, I have comfort, shelter, and people whom I love and who love me. That's not bad going, really. There are other things for which to feel thankful, and here are just a few:

• Hot water. No, really, hot showers are the best.
• The way my cat Clem sneaks under the covers and warms me up like a furry hot water bottle if TOH isn't here.
• The genius that allows my computer to wirelessly plug into our stereo so that we can play everything through that - seriously, even if it makes me sound like this guy, isn't technology brilliant?
  
• Dishwashers.
• The joy of crosswords.
• Cricket - and the amazing technology that allows us to keep up with the Ashes from halfway around the world. And Test Match Special - always, always, TMS.
• Stevie Wonder. Talking Book has fit my mood perfectly this morning, but it could just as easily have been Innervisions or Songs in the Key of Life. The man is magic.
  

Flirtatious

Is anyone else bothered by this story, or are my rage buttons going off for the wrong reasons again?

Essentially, this old goat with tons of money (billions!) paid for the series between the England cricket team and various counterparts in the West Indies. He was spotted on the big screen at the match with one player's pregnant girlfriend on his lap, and was generally cuddling up to and flirting with the female players.

He's personally apologized for "the incident" - by calling the player with the pregnant girlfriend and the captain of the team. Is this not a tad... well... like treating the players as if he'd got on their horse, or sat behind the wheel of their cars? What about the women - what about apologizing to them? Or, indeed, not apologizing to them, because from the photos, none looks offended; they all look to be having rather a jolly time. Which, I suspect, is what really bothered the players in question.

There's something weirdly proprietary about the need to apologize to these women's men, as if they were the women's owners. And why Pietersen - because as head of his men he's head of his men's women, too?

Apologize to the women for offending them; or for causing trouble, maybe, but apologizing to the men...

It is just not sitting right with me.

Pangs

Today is one of those days where the pang of homesickness is quite overwhelming. Where it stings your eyes and, however briefly, takes your breath away.

That it comes on today is not that surprising - two dear friends have just got married in North London, where TOH is in attendance; and I'm listening to TMS on the radio, and I have a mountain of horrible work to do.

TMS is, gloriously, interviewing Stephen Fry in the Tavern Stand at Lord's, who talks of his conversion of people to enjoying cricket by comparing its interest and merits to a landscape, a Homer epic - not a Charge of the Light Brigade, all climax, which ends up more disappointing. He also referred to the heavenly thing that is being able to listen to TMS in a country where cricket is utterly unimportant. He related his experiences in Hawaii, which was lush, fringed with palms and sand, but he suddenly realised that something was missing - the cricket grounds that one sees everywhere in the background in similar landscapes in the Caribbean.

So, today, I miss home. I will try for cheerier posts when my melancholy (and self-indulgence) has passed.

All Bets Are Off

I must offer a heartfelt apology to the women of Rutgers and the gents of Ohio State. Because in the next two days, you will both lose in the finales to March Madness.

The only reason I have to offer is that I would favour your victory--and given the fate of those who have been my preference thus far, that means you will lose. Both the women and men of UNC had leads, to then be painfully beaten. Even after switching to UCLA and Georgetown--both due to friends and, of course, jesuit loyalty--they both lost. Every team I have expressed a vague preference for, be it out loud or merely in my head, has lost.

So sorry folks, I have tried to be neutral for tonight, but it's just not possible...

At least the poison has not yet spread to the baseball, as the Mets gave the Cardinals a stuffing last night.

And for those who have no sporting interest whatsoever, I apologise, too, but until October it's all about the cricket (starting very very soon in England) and the baseball.

I love summer. Not that it's evident right now. I am never going to believe Weather on the 1s again, given that it told me this morning that temperatures would reach 67F today, hence no tights (of course, it has subsequently modified its prediction). It's currently 48F. Damn you Pat Buchanan!

Hubris

I am suffering somewhat from a hangover brought on by celebrating the birthday of my favourite banana. While eating my vegan chilli in a desperate attempt to get myself back to a normal state of being, I managed to read this phenomenal article on Slate about the change in rhetoric coming our way from the Bush Administration on the war in Iraq. They are, essentially, going to try to repackage it as a failure in the Iraqis that they didn't want our help and it's all their own fault that we (the United States the the UK) came in, invaded their country, removed all resources and services like electricity or water, raped their children, and they just failed to get that we were doing them a service.

This is so disturbing to me... plus, in a week where I have been wrestling with my own imperialism concerns regarding feminism and my views on FGM, this definitely stands out as a way of saying that those crazy muslim types are just incapable of democracy. Deeply unpleasant all round.

On the positive side, a small, fairly unassuming guy from Durham has made my week by being only the third Englishman to hit a double century against Australia in Australia. Paul Collingwood is an inspiration - professional and talented in the field, works incredibly hard, and despite the doubters apparently didn't give up on his dream to play for England. And Play Well. Who to drop if Vaughan gets fit? What a glorious dilemma that would be... Paul, I salute you.



I also salute one Andrew Flintoff, who I love more and more each day. The six he thrashed off McGrath symbolized so much - his power, and dynamism, but also the fact that this was a day for nice guys giving unsportsmanlike ones a kicking. Apart from Pietersen. I still cannot abide him. It's a very gentle way to phrase what is such a visceral emotion. But there you go. Let's enjoy Fred again...



AND I've rediscovered one of my favourite music videos of all time - Witness The Fitness by Roots Manuva. It's genius. Thank you YouTube!

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Friends - those good, good friends with whom you can be mean, pointless, spiteful, ridiculous, OTT, i.e. yourself - are the best things in the entire world. How does it work? That you end up with these wonderful people who don't mind - even, embrace - your foibles and accept you regardless and yet are the funniest, kindest, most generous and fabulous people in the entire galaxy. They make the world so much better, your life so much richer and RELAXED because you can just be yourself. They are glorious things that we really should appreciate and realise that they make us the luckiest people in the world.

I am tipsy, it must be said. But why? Because I shared several glasses of red wine with that sort of friend. The sort of friend that I will be getting drunk with when I'm fifty and we embarrass the life out of our children.

FURTHERMORE: England DIDN'T lose a one-day match today AND I got to scoff a ton of Spanish chocolate.

Life is good.

PLUS: only one more day of classes. I'm tired. Reading is much harder than I'd remembered. It hurts my brain.

Thoughts Running Through My Mind

First: Yay - we won the cricket!

Second: I don't understand this article at all. How do you "take a break" from being a feminist? Either you are one, in which case it informs your understanding of matters in the world, your reaction to them, or you're not because you don't believe in it. Yes, there are different methodologies, different beliefs as feminists - I struggle frequently with my contradictory thoughts over pornography and the sex industry, for example. But I really don't understand this and the law professor proposing it doesn't seem to justify it, either. Answers on a postcard, please.

Third: This article is also interesting for an illustration of perhaps why feminism is still a necessary part of my life - the time when we are not divided into trollops and angels will be a blessed one. Furthermore, it echoes something that I've found here in Costa Rica - unions dominated by men, who require a classless society but don't really want the wimminfolk involved in anything, sweetheart.

Fourth: the case of the boy who raped a girl and got a 2 year supervision order is one of the most revolting things I have read recently. Impressively appalling. I understand that there are problems with institutionalising young people who have committed crimes, but it really is a disgrace. If even the readers of The Daily Mail are appalled by this, it must really be bad.

Fifth: This story, about a rapist finally caught after twenty years - a "pillar of the community", married with children - was interesting both because of how he was caught using new DNA techniques, but mostly for the interview with one of the victims. She was... just incredible to listen to. After the horrors of what had happened to her, she was mostly concerned for her daughter - who, when this resurfaced as a cold case, was the age at which the woman had been raped - and whether or not her partner could cope with it. She was so matter of fact about it all, about the fear she had. No one should EVER have this sort of power over another person. The most interesting thing was her reaction to finally seeing him... the relief that he didn't have that power anymore, instead of reacting angrily to the fact that such a feeble little man managed to have sway over her life for so long, and could damage her in that way.

Sixth: I love me some Woman's Hour. We all know that - I make no bones about it (where ON EARTH does that phrase come from?) . However, this was absolutely ridiculous: a debate on what annoys men and women about each other. It's frothy rubbish anyway (Fridays are always worse on Woman's Hour because Jenni Murray doesn't do it). What was extremely annoying was that this was advertising some ridiculous person's "husband training school" - she'd started writing a book about it and decided to do it in real life. They are not cocker spaniels to be taught to piss outdoors. They are men and, for the majority of women, our partners in the home and bedroom. They are for all of us, hopefully, our friends, colleagues, sons, brothers... It makes me EXTREMELY angry to read things like this, because this is what people think feminism is about, when it's as far away from what I believe as could possibly be my feminist viewpoint. It has become some sort of mainstream, accepted position to denigrate men in this way, and it belittles us all, quite frankly.

Furthermore, an important point about relationships: they are supposed to feature compromises. How can you compromise with someone you think lives in a disgusting manner, as this woman claimed, simply because her husband left dirty dishes in the sink - SHOCKER. Yes, things annoy us about living with other people - we are all idiosyncratic individuals. But... for Pete's sake, this was ridiculous.

And I know I shouldn't be so angry at rubbish like this, but it's irritating and fuels anti-feminism...

Anyhoo, that's me for now.

GBH

- Forgot to mention yesterday that another aim for the next year is to WAX my friends - I cannot shave my legs properly to save my life. Wax until Christmas, epilator afterwards. SWEET. You needed to know that.

- CRICKET: Grievous Bodily Harmison (probably TM The Sun) is BACK! I cannot begin to tell you how happy that makes me. His morning was good, afternoon even better.

Que llore

Today is not a good day. While this is somewhat revealing as a blog, I try to keep my very personal stuff to myself. However, I am having trouble raising a smile today. People are publishing complete crapola in the newspapers about Nicaraguans here ("there are good figures to show a million undocumented people here, 23% of the population" - really? where did you get these figures? Ah, that's right, you don't actually say where because it is RUBBISH and MADE UP and with NO OFFICIAL FIGURES TO BACK YOU UP), the Middle East may just explode and take us all out, Bush is a hypocrite and an awful human being, and I wish that if someone agreed to do something for you, they would actually do it. Or just say NO. It's not hard, as Zammo eventually taught us all.

STILL. Good things are happening to people I love, so it can't be all bad. And Bill Gates has given nearly $300m to AIDS research. David O'Leary has finally left Villa, good for my family. The US has approved implanon, which is a wonderful thing. And my favourite ex-PLO leader has done well in county cricket yet again.

The World's Gone Mad

So I go away for four days and the world implodes with craziness.

Seriously.

What is wrong with people?

Examples of the craziness:

1) Wear nice knickers in case you pass out while mashed.

2) I know that it was a time of terrible tension and worry - I was there. But this ranks alongside the geniuses who murdered a Scotsman with a table leg because he was suspected to be an Irish terrorist - you cannot simply excuse these mistakes due to fear. Someone should pay some kind of recompense.

3) Girls - and I do mean girls - getting pregnant because it's a better option than working. What are we doing about educating women if this is really their "best" option? Children are wonderful things, but really, the choice boils down to Tescos or motherhood? Nice to know it's not due to lack of sexual education, though... hmm.

And all of this entirely fails to mention you know where and you know what. I cannot even go into that because it is utterly... soul destroying. Crushing. I don't normally shirk the bad stuff - I love me some depressing documentary over a Kate Hudson piece of fluff any day. But the Middle East at the moment is too much for me. Just too much.

HOWEVER: I read a bloody brilliant book over the weekend. I love the author - anyone who turns down a prize from the Mail for its attitude towards immigrants is my hero anyway, but I loved this book, his second, and the first was a beautiful, melancholy study of nationality, race and identity. IMHO. But what do I know?

So that's good. It should also be made clear that I am grumpy because I spent five glorious days with TOH and now he's gone. I won't see him for five weeks. That makes me miserable. On the other hand (let's hope no one from U.S. Customs reads this) he brought me vegetarian kielbasa, which I shall eat in his honour tonight. And watch a mere two episodes of the third series of Scrubs. Joy. After attending my study group on Costa Rican Economy and Gender. Possibly while drinking a glass of my favourite wine, also brought over by TOH. Sigh. You will be regaled, almost endlessly, with the glorious photos and stories of our wonderful time together, which has not been tarnished by the misery people are propagating throughout the world. Or that England scored 528 yet couldn't beat Pakistan.