World Mental Health Day 2011

Illustration by Claire Pitt

So today is World Mental Health Day! Why is this important?

As many as one in four people will suffer from some kind of mental health issue at some point in their lives, yet it’s still an issue that is presented as a taboo and swept under the carpet.

We are quick to judge people who aren’t “normal” by society’s standards, and can be just as quick to disassociate ourselves with those who have mental health issues by calling them “weird” and “crazy”. But at the end of the day, we’re all people. If someone fell over in the street, you’d probably (if you were nice) help them up, yet mental health is an issue that many run away from. It can truly happen to any of us, and it does. Instead of running away from it we need to start talking about it. Granted, you probably aren’t going to discuss suicide over a cup of tea, but then again, why shouldn’t you? Getting things out in the open is one of the biggest things that’s helped me, purely because it’s helped to drain the negative thoughts out of my head, which used to orbit and eventually become obsessive that they blocked all other thoughts out. It’s also helped me to realise that there are lot of people in a similar situation to me, especially people I already know. It’s an issue very close to home and a lot of people, like me, are almost too good at keeping things quiet. But there’s really no need to.

I reckon I’ve always suffered from slight anxiety but when I started university, the stress of moving away from home and living with people I had absolutely nothing in common with and didn’t like made me feel completely alienated, and gradually the pressure from work amplified it. I had another health problem which I constantly worried about, gradually to the point where I felt permanently anxious and had to spend hours getting ready just to pep myself up to leave my flat; often I’d been running through all the bad situations that could possibly happen so obsessively that I wouldn’t even be able to leave for panicking. Out of all the things I’ve experienced, anxiety is on another scale. The word “anxiety” doesn’t sound too bad in itself, it sounds insignificant, just a bit of worrying: one might worry about trivial matters that hold no real significance, but anxiety is more than that. It comes with the obvious; anxiety attacks which I’ve had my fair share of, which gradually manifest into a fear of fear itself which is possibly the most fatal vicious cycle as it means a fear of well…everything…but also there’s an inability to see past the present moment, and the worst, the “fear of impending doom”. Then there’s the general feeling that you’re never going to feel any different and will have to constantly spend your life making-do rather than actually living, which ultimately led me into dark periods of depression.

So long story short, eventually the anxiety got so bad that it overrode everything and I felt like I couldn’t cope anymore. I somehow got talking to someone on Twitter who eventually told me to go to a doctor, but actually checked up and invested some time into making sure that I did, and asked me how it went (you know who you are, and I can’t thank you enough). Going to see my GP was something I wanted to do for so long, but I was too ashamed and embarrassed about how I would address the issue, and thought they might just think I was stupid or I didn’t have a “real” problem. If I hadn’t have been actively encouraged to go I can’t even imagine how much of an anxious wreck I’d be now, and if you honestly have anything that’s getting you down then go and see a doctor too. I can’t endorse it enough. Get a friend to go with you, or even like I did just get someone – anyone – to check up on you once in a while. It’s a scary process to go through alone but once you get past that initial hurdle you will notice a massive difference. I eventually got prescribed anti-depressants to help with the panic attacks – being me I was completely sceptical, didn’t think they’d do much – but within a few weeks and after a couple of initial side-effects, I was as right as rain. Despite a few wobbles now and again, the panic has completely gone. I'm actually amazed at how easy it was, considering the level of anxiety I was experiencing before. I thought I’d never be rid of it, and so to suddenly feel completely “normal” and without panic was amazing. No weird feeling in my chest, no claustrophobic feeling like I needed to get out of certain situations and as a result, no worrying. Or, if I did worry about panicking, it never culminated in actual anxiety. I no longer avoid or panic about certain situations and can actually do things I want to do, not just the things my head will allow me to do. I can go to places, and feel calm, and enjoy myself because my head isn’t preoccupied with anxiety.

Mental health isn’t a smooth ride and there’s always things in life that will resurface and bite you on the arse from time to time, but I can’t imagine how I coped the way I did, and I honestly feel so much better at the moment. I can go to my lectures and not feel like I’m going to run out midway through because of an anxiety attack. I can go to social events and actually have fun. It’s amazing the things you’ll put up with when there’s no visible alternative, and there’s absolutely no need to, but I think the main problem is 1. an embarrassment of confessing to have such a “taboo” problem and 2. people simply not knowing what’s on offer to them, and how it can actually make a massive impact.

Personally, I think one of the biggest issues with mental health is that ultimately, it is all in your head, so it’s really easy to feel alienated and alone when you’re going through a rough patch. But if you go through the process with someone else then it makes it so much easier. If you know someone with a mental health problem, or even if you see someone who might be a bit down, just ask them how they are. Seriously, talk to them. Make them feel appreciated, and let them know that someone cares about them. You don’t have to be a qualified counsellor, and you don’t have to be an expert in mental health. All you need is patience, a little understanding, and less prejudice. Stop labelling people as “crazy” and stop mocking people who have mental health problems, because it could happen to any one of us. It makes the world of good, and I imagine it doesn’t require a massive amount of effort on your part, but can be life-changing to someone else. Everyone deserves to be happy.

So go on, give each other a big hug, have a cup of tea, and let's talk about our problems.

How are you today?

Get into Greer

Illustration by Suzy X

Whether you call yourself a feminist or whether you prefer not to label yourself but still believe in equality for both men and women, you are a feminist. It’s not a dirty word and it does more good than harm, so why are people so afraid of it? It’s fairly simple.

The majority of people who oppose feminism generally do so because they don’t understand what the word means. The feminist stereotype is hardly appealing and representative, and so the cause is grossly misunderstood. Feminism is simply a belief. It’s the belief that anything a man can do without getting called out for, a woman should be able to do too. A belief that a woman should be able to wear a certain outfit without having to feel like a slag (another word I hate) and if she does become victim to a sexual assault, she shouldn’t expect to be blamed for the crime just because she’s a woman. As great as boobs and vaginas are, we aren’t just a pair of tits on legs and we aren’t there for the primary function of titillating men. Surprising, I know.

If you now understand what feminism is and still don’t believe in it, then I suggest you piss off.

Whilst you yourself may have never thought “I am a feminist”, you might be. You don’t have to label yourself as a feminist to be an ally of feminism. The thing I do have a problem with however is a person who comes out and says “I’m not a feminist…but that doesn’t make me a misogynist”.

Let’s be honest. While you don’t have to call yourself a feminist and you don’t have to actively identity with the cause, if you agree with the ideology that women are allowed to have a voice and fight back against prejudices towards them, then you are a feminist. If, however, you specifically say that you aren’t a feminist then in short, you’re saying that you’re against the notion that women and men should be on equal terms. You’re essentially saying that you still believe that women should be the “weaker sex”; that women don’t deserve to have equal pay wages to men; that a woman shouldn't get a choice in how she presents herself.  You don’t believe that a woman should be able to stand up and say “I’m not an object. I’m a person, and I get to control what I do and what happens to me” and I think there's something fundamentally wrong with that.

If you think that feminism is an “overreaction” and that we “need to harp down” then you are a prime example of why feminism exists, and needs to exist. Purely the notion of some people thinking that women fighting against misogyny is not necessary shows just how deeply embedded misogyny is in our society. Those who have said to me that “things aren’t as bad as they used to be” and that I should “calm down” are missing the point entirely. Take for example, the Topman t-shirt fiasco. A couple of shirts with slogans degrading women. The thing that staggered me about the whole situation was the amount of people saying that it was an overreaction, purely demonstrating that misogyny is so blase these days that we are almost called out if we have a problem with it, and that essentially, we are expected to just sit down and take abuse because we are women, and because, I guess, we are used to it. But because we are used to people constantly undermining us and objectifying us, does it mean we have to put up with it? Of course it fucking doesn’t. It’s not the 1950s anymore and there isn’t as much obvious sexism, but it hasn’t gone away. It’s just subtle. Some of you might not even notice something was sexist unless it was pointed out to you. It makes it harder to fight back against. It’s hard to say “this has serious misogynistic undertones” without people moaning at you for picking at details, for making “a big deal out of nothing”.

So do you still think feminism is extreme? If you are against feminism, you are against women and you are against equality. You don’t have to be a woman to be a feminist. If you treat women as an equal rather than an object who has to submit to your desires then there are benefits for all of us, not just women. The rewards are endless.

Have a think.

Are you a feminist?

Top Man? I don't think so mate...

So last night and today there was an anger explosion on Twitter with regards to controversial t-shirt designs from Topman. The grey shirt suggests that women come in breeds, much like animals – also suggesting that a woman belongs to a man like a pet? – and the red, although vague, has strong hints of domestic abuse and rape.

I got angry when I saw this. Although a lot of people shared my disgust, there were also a lot of negative reactions (mainly from bone-headed Facebook users, but reactions nonetheless) along the lines of “stop being so tetchy”, “IT’S POLITICAL CORRECTNESS GONE MAD!” or “calm down, it’s only a joke”.

After receiving what I can only imagine was a fuckload of complaints (mine included), Topman decided to withdraw the designs, offering this apology on their Facebook page.

Ah yes, I suppose joking about a girl getting raped on a t-shirt is just a bit of light-hearted humour, and it’s also okay to degrade a woman down to the status of being a dog because if you laugh at it, it’s not because you’re a misogynistic dickhead but because you have a first class sense of humour! 

Well, I apologise for being a prude, non-funny bore. I’m also a feminist which means I sit at home in front of my computer, complaining about everything under the sun whilst stroking my several feral cats, because no man will ever love me. And have I ever mentioned I’m a sex-depraved lesbian who never shaves her legs and hates men?

All bullshit of course. Feminism is the striving for the equality of both sexes, and if you think otherwise then I suggest you read up on it. I’ve seen as many men outraged about the Topman shirts as I have women, which says a lot. In short, if you’re male and you think these tops are acceptable, then you’re a massive dick. Or even worse, if you would actually consider wearing these shirts you have no place on this earth except in a cave, to act out your stone-age values whilst dragging your knuckles along the floor, in a quest to find a woman who will love you (you might be there for some time).

This whole thing reminds me of the kind of people who think it’s okay to mutter incredibly racist/sexist/any-other-ist comments and declare it as “BANTER!!!!”, or who use the “it’s only a joke, relax” excuse, twisting the situation on its head and making you seem like the bad person for being humourless. Someone telling you to stop overreacting and that you "didn't get the joke" makes you seem like an idiot and is a standard silencer. But I refuse to be silenced.

You see, it’s more than just a slogan on a t-shirt. It’s petty to get angry about a t-shirt, which is precisely why people are so angry. Because it’s NOT just about a slogan on a t-shirt!

By allowing small misogynistic jibes into society – be it a slogan on a t-shirt, a misleading sexist advertisement, a muttering of the “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?” remark on Facebook followed up with “huh huh I’m not sexist, you just didn’t get my sense of humour huh huh” – you are allowing sexism to seep into the cracks of society. You’re allowing for the creation of a baseline of sexism which gradually builds up a tolerance to sexist comments, and creates an attitude which is stridently misogynistic. Is it just me, or is that a bit fucking backwards?

In short, I refuse to stand for this. I have a right to be angry and if you're angry because it deprives you of a cheap laugh (as you are so void of a sense of humour you have to laugh at the oppression of others to get your kicks) then fuck you. I'm standing up for myself and I won’t apologise for it. 

.....and I don't have a shit fashion sense, either.

This is not a René Magritte exhibition

So I thought I’d do a blog about Liverpool! Oh you lovely city…although I am often roaming around in Manchester (another city with a firm place in my heart), Liverpool has and always will be my favourite city for the people and the things in it. I've always come here ever since I was a child and I love the things it has to offer!

Filling ourselves up with noms from the night before at Yo! Sushi (mmm), we decided to do something in Liverpool the next day.

 I repeat: mmm.

The Albert Dock in particular is one of my favourite parts of Liverpool, and nestled in amongst restaurants and shops is TATE Liverpool. The René Magritte exhibition has been on there for a while and I’d been wanting to go for equally as long. I eventually got to go yesterday with my friend Eve – who, fortunately, is an art student and didn’t mind spending ages having a proper look round (sometimes I get bored as fuck in art galleries, but the worst thing is rushing around when you want to spend a lot of time looking at everything. Plus I’d paid £8.10 so I wanted to get my money’s worth, ha ha.)

Maybe a tiny bit pricey (£11 adult, £9 concessions - not sure why my ticket cost £8.10, maybe off-peak times?) you do get your money’s worth from the exhibition, and I thought it was wonderful. There’s a lot of work on display including 12 separate rooms containing different branches of his work, plus home movies and photographs which I thought were incredibly charming and funny. It was also another £5 per person if you wanted a guide to go around the exhibition with you to explain the art, but if you're a cheapskate like me you can always just eavesdrop on someone else's tour whilst pretending to ponder at the art or the meaning of life or something. There was also a room full of erotic sketches such as a man walking towards a giant hairy vagina cave, and a woman with a penis protruding from her tongue. A warning on the outside of the room read "some people may find these images challenging", as a 11 year old boy discovered when he ran out of the room going "URGH mum, don't go in there, it's RUDE!" The very same boy later on had an argument with his mum while I was in my element trying to get into the mood of the paintings, offering to pay a tenner if they could leave there and then (I tried hard not to laugh at this) and uttering his dismay at all the naked paintings of ladies. If anything, I'm surprised he wasn't loving it!

I must admit, I didn't know a lot about Magritte beforehand. I have a friend who has The Son of a Man on a t-shirt and I didn’t have a clue what it was until I started noticing it around in a lot of places. I also even studied “This Is Not a Pipe” at uni and still didn’t realise it was by him so you’ll have to excuse me for being a bit of an idiot. It was a bit of a discovery for me - I'd never realised quite how surreal his work was and some of his work reminded me of the painting style of Frida Kahlo who is a big favourite of mine. So although my tastes in art are very hit and miss, I was easily drawn in by his work.

Anyway, we got to Liverpool and had a walk around the docks (lovely as ever, even despite the wind and the rain) and laughed at tourists trying to stop their hats from blowing away.

(A view of the docks taken from inside the exhibition - the sheer amount of bird poo on the glass somewhat obscuring the lovely view with the Cathedral in the background).

I'm one of those creeps who sometimes goes to art galleries and gets so transfixed by the colour of the walls that I can't focus on the art. I always fall in love with the views out of the Tate windows, actually many a time I've spent more time looking out of the window at the view thinking how lovely it is than looking at the art. I also fucking love the colour of the walls. Look at them! *drools*. Maybe this is a bit weird. I apologise.

As for the actual exhibition, it was fantastic. As some of you might be surprised to hear, it takes a lot for me to get exited about something but once I do I'm pretty much smitten. The mixture of paintings with sketches, home videos, photographs and also some of his commercial work meant that there was a lot of variation, keeping everything exciting. Plus I have a total loathing for quiet art galleries and his work got everyone talking so I didn't feel as awkward walking around in total silence. This might just be because I'm a bit odd though.

Some of my favourite pieces of work were...

The Flavour of Tears (1948)

This Is Not A Pipe (1929)

Woman-Bottle (1945)

Perspective II: Manets Balcony (1950) 

A witty piss-take of Manet's "The Balcony".

Plus I absolutely love this one (I can't believe how many people kept a straight face whilst looking at this. It's funny, non?)

Magritte's work on the cover of André Breton's "What is surrealism?"

There was also a wall full of tiny little photos, I absolutely love these especially the bottom one with Georgette Magritte. I think they're incredibly sweet.

After a visit to the shop I left with a couple of postcards (everything else in the shop was insanely overpriced, £50 for a cushion in the shape of a cloud?! I could make one myself for under a fiver *turns into mother*). Had a great day and what a funny and brilliant artist Magritte is. Lucky Liverpool for having such an exhibition. If you can do, get down to TATE Liverpool whilst it's still on! I don't think you'll regret it.

Benicassim 2011

It's a rainy Bank Holiday Monday, more than a month after I got back from Benicassim, and to cheer myself up from the sheer misery of August feeling like December and realising that festival season has, ultimately, nearly ended, I thought I'd recap with a blog of my time at Benicassim (which I promised ages ago!) so I can reminisce and forget how utterly miserable I am to currently be in Britain.

We flew from Liverpool John Lennon airport to Alicante - then hung around Alicante train station for about 4 hours waiting for our train connection to Benicassim, as you can't fly there directly. We had our luggage with us so couldn't go for a massive wander but in-between sticking to plastic chairs and going for several pisses to pass the time, we had a little wander around Alicante. In contrast to the chilly English morning before our flight departed, the sun in Alicante was so hot that it was painful to walk and I could only cope with about 10 minutes outside before I wanted to go back in the shade for fear that my skin would start to melt and I would collapse onto the floor in a pile of gooey, suncream-soaked skin and ginger hair. Thankfully this didn't actually happen. Due to my sheer idiocy at thinking Benicassim was in the middle of nowhere, I was frantically searching for a shop selling alcohol and festival supplies in Alicante because I didn't realise that Benicassim was an actual town with actual shops. Alcohol is insanely cheap in Spain - as are cigarettes, and, well, pretty much everything else. You could easily get a 70cl bottle of vodka for 4 euros (about £3.50) and I'm pretty sure beer was cheaper than water in one shop...

Inside the train station there were asleep Beni-goers everywhere. The shop behind also sold a range of crazy things like lamps in the shape of Buddha heads - marvellous. What I've always needed to accompany me on a long train journey.

Once we caught our train the journey took about 3 hours which seems a long time after already flying but there was air-con and the journey was quite alright. There were allocated seats so if you were travelling with friends and didn't book your tickets together you'd more than likely be sat on your own, but this wasn't much of a problem as 95% of people on the train were going to Benicassim and the majority of them were from Preston. They played the horrendous film Burlesque on the TVs both for the journey there and the journey back - I'm not sure whether the Spanish train system has some kind of allegiance with Christina Aguilera but either way, you couldn't really watch it because it was in Spanish, with Spanish subtitles. Most people just had a nap or got drunk instead. Some annoying girls who wouldn't have been out of place on Skins got wasted and started flirting with a 50-year old Spanish man called José until they could convince him to shout "REEM" down the carriage - I don't watch The Only Way Is Essex but I believe this is some terrible catchphrase from it and frankly anyone using the word in a real-life setting should be burnt at the stake, á la Joan of Arc.

The train journey itself was quite scenic and when I wasn't asleep I was transfixed by all the graffiti everywhere - I don't think we went past an inch of wall that wasn't covered in it. It made for some light reading as we would go past an English word now and again, the main culprits being "BITCH" and "ARSE".

We walked from the train station to the festival (they had buses running but we couldn't be bothered waiting and it was only a 15 minute walk) and then had to lug our stuff for the half a mile of bloody metal fences to enclose the non-existent queue when we arrived - dragging a suitcase down the dustiest path ever in the heat was truly exhausting, at one point I thought my arm was going to fall off (*note for next time, don't bring anything on wheels). We met up with friends and set up our tent in Camp FIB which was about a 5 minute walk from the main arena. There was also a camp nearer to the beach but you had to pay extra to camp there (for the small luxury of separate shower cubicles etc). Bearing in mind the festival only started on the Thursday, by 6pm on Monday our campsite was close to full, causing many people to set up camp in the field next to us. It was completely swamped with water and you couldn't help but feel sorry for it's new inhabitants, as the look of complete misery swept over their faces and they lugged their belongings through the soggy field. It was like a scene from a sad war film apart from instead of weapons and war uniforms they were carrying lilos and wearing dickhead sunglasses.

Us about an hour after we got there and had met up with the comrades - woohoo! We made it etc!

 Lovely sunset on the first night. It made me all soppy and happy.

There were loads of trees around the campsite which was handy as you could hang stuff like towels and bikinis on them and they'd dry really quickly. It helped to keep an eye on these though - a few girls got their bikinis nicked by drunken boys. One night it was exceptionally windy causing the outside of our tent to blow off at 5am and a deckchair to blow into my head, to which I yelled "FUCK OFF YOU BASTARD!", shortly after realising that I was actually shouting at the wind. I nearly lost my bikini bottoms that night after they were firmly plucked from the tree branch upon which they were hanging by heavy winds, but i soon found them a bit further down the camp before some doped up boy came along and tried to put them on his head, or something of the like.

It made sense to try and get a spot under the sheets because otherwise it was boiling and you'd roast like a chicken. The floor was rough as fuck - even through a roll mat and a pillow you could feel the stones and it was practically impossible to hammer your tent down because the ground was so hard. Most people just bought lilos or airbeds to sleep on but I just went with my flimsy roll-mat and was partly immobile by the end of the week. The views were amazing - the mountains in the background got most of the rain whenever clouds appeared and although on the first night there was a slight thunder storm - in fact some of the loudest thunder I've ever heard, thinking "Oh fuck why did I do this? This festival is going to be wank" it blew over in 10 minutes and was enjoyable more than anything.

We went down to the beach most days as it was only a 20-30 minute walk, depending on how hungover you were or how fast you could be bothered walking. It would also be wise to occasionally stop and fan yourself down or throw a bottle of water over yourself - I know I've said it already but it was BLOODY HOT! REALLY BOILING! There wasn't much to do in the campsite in the day so most people went for a wander either to the beach or the town. The beach was gorgeous and there were random bands playing most days. There were also arts & culture displays throughout the town to check out but we didn't catch any of these as we were too busy playing volleyball in the sea and having nosebleeds (well...that was just me). On the first night there was a beach party which looked like a lot of fun but we were too knackered to go and decided to catch up on sleep so we weren't fucked for the rest of the week. It's a long time if you're only used to 3-4 day festivals and considering the music was only on the last few days you had to be sensible to pace yourself, for the heat if nothing else. I didn't drink nearly as much as I thought I would because 1. it was so hot I don't think I could've been able to bear being hungover and 2. I seemed to get drunk really quickly, I'm guessing due to de-hydration and sweating out the alcohol. I must have drank about 3 litres of water a day but didn't piss any more than usual - sorry, TMI - which is why you have to drink loads of water or YOU'LL DIE! (not to sound like the nagging mother but really...come on people. Staying alive is quite important). Anyway back to the beach. It was really clean and the sand was great - this random American camping with us had been in Barcelona and kept going on about how shit the beach there was but this one was lovely. The sand was even a perfect consistency to bury our friends in and give them raging sand cock erections (see below).

Phwoar. Impressive.

LOOK AT THE NICE BEACH! I had to use factor 50 as my skin tone reflects that of Edward Cullen (unfortunately) but it meant that all of the sand stuck to me so whatever tan/burn I got was speckled. Also about 10 minutes in the sea was enough to leave me with shoulders burnt enough to look like an overcooked Yorkshire Pudding and so if I go back I might consider wearing some kind of sun protection suit to avoid the bother. If, however, you are less pale you'll still need to use loads of suncream because after an hour or two in the sun most of us resembled a smacked arse. I swear I had about 8 layers on every day and by the end of the week all of us half-pale, half-burnt gingers gave each other the "I feel your pain" nod as we waddled off to make our journey home with sunburnt bums and red noses.

One of the things I loved about the festival was that it felt like a proper holiday, with the added bonus of having music and being able to get away with "festival style" - basically walking around half naked and drunk, without brushing your hair all day. I actually think I had more fun slumming it in tents for a week than I would have done in a hotel, purely because camping's always a laugh but also because we had decent access to communal showers and the toilets weren't even that bad. They were pretty clean for festival loos, the only bad thing being they didn't have any hand gel anywhere and everyone eventually got the shits. Mmm. You could go for showers whenever, and unlike going for a shower at a UK festival no-one felt weird about it - in fact I could've walked around comfortably in my bikini because no one gave a shit about what anyone looked like. Most people showered in their bikinis although there were quite a lot of topless girls in the showers too *hears klaxons go off in most mens heads about how they need to go to Benicassim next year* and the only time you really saw naked people was at 4am when people were off their tits and decided to have a communal naked shower. However, this didn't stop me seeing a VERY naked Spanish man in the showers at 2pm with the most blatant erection I've ever seen. In fact, I don't know how he even maintained it because the showers were FREEZING, but let's just say that despite a ban on barbecues there was still plenty of sausage on-site.

Lovely.

We found a nice fountain and obviously had to jump in.

Nice looking building #395846 

"Oh I wonder what that word means in Spanish?" uttered my mum as I showed her my holiday photos...

So the town of Benicassim itself was really nice. I was slightly worried it'd be one of those tacky tourist resort towns but it wasn't at all, just a nice authentic Spanish town. There were enough stands around for tourists and the notorious Chinese shop selling EVERYTHING but also loads of traditional Spanish cafés and restaurants, all at decent prices. There were also lots of supermarket shops for food so if you didn't want to live off beans all week or try and keep food cool you could just buy something each day. Everything was madly cheap and we ended up living off bread, cheese and Allioli - it was impossible to keep things cool and even cool boxes were useless in the heat for anything other than sitting on. After going to the beach once, absolutely everything became covered in sand and dust for the rest of the week and I think most of the calories I consumed were actually from dust. Yum.

As usual it's important to see where the locals are eating - there will be nice places to eat and truly rank places. We ate at a nice little café but had a problem with the bill every time, so if you do eat out you definitely need to check these things. Also you may end up with a lasagne that looks like this:

You could get a better lasagne in Iceland for 50p, probably. (Be warned).

Em and I chilling back at camp. We ended up buying chairs and sitting in them for most of the week because it was too hot to move.

Now to talk about the music - finally. Due to the heat in the day the bands started at about 6pm and went on until 4am, with DJ sets going on until 6-7am. Although unconventional compared to UK festivals, I thought it was quite good as you could do whatever you wanted to do in the day and then staying up to watch the bands wasn't so hard because it was just like a couple of nights out in a row. By the time the sun set it was a really comfortable temperature considering we would've been sweating buckets if the bands were on in the day. Another good thing is that despite it being an alright temperature the crowd wasn't squashed together - even towards the front everyone had their own space so you weren't sweating like a pig in a woolly jumper and also had room to dance however you wished. I saw some shocking dance moves that will probably never leave my memory.

The lads we were camping with ended up with Royal Mail high-vis jackets to which I kept making puns like "that's quite a large package you've got there" and "I think your package is too big to fit through my letterbox". I'd then laugh at myself because I'm so bloody hilarious.

Going into the venue lads get frisked and girls generally didn't. I managed to sneak alcohol in with me every day either in the front of my shorts (apparently large pubic bulges on girls aren't a strange thing in Spain) or concealed under a scarf. You can only buy drinks with tokens in the arena (2.50 euros each) which will buy you a beer or a bottle of water. For a spirit and a mixer it's 3 tokens (7.50 euros - not cheap!) but apparently they don't do it in measures, simply "say when" so you could probably get a whole cup of vodka if you wanted. So not that bad for the money, but even better if you can sneak your own in. Tee hee.

Thursday: The Streets, Chase & Status, Jack Beats

Hahahaha

We only ended up going down to the music for about 1am as we thought we'd drink a bit first and then go down. I thought I didn't like The Streets but they were amazing live, plus considering it was one of their last shows ever it was amazing to see them. People were really getting into it and everyone went mental for "Fit But Don't You Know It". I think they sound ten times better live than they do on their albums too, so it's a shame they're stopping touring! We caught the end of Chase & Status who were full of energy as usual and then went to watch Jack Beats. Considering I was somewhat sober by 2am when Jack Beats came on and everyone around me was either wasted or pilled up I could have probably enjoyed it a bit more if I had more to drink but it was still a laugh. It wasn't so much people watching the stage as a load of people just dancing in their own space on a dusty bit of ground, surrounded by a border of arty-looking French boys eyeing up all of the girls (and boys) bums.


Friday: Elbow, The Stranglers, James Murphy, Friendly Fires


We saw Elbow who were really good but it was strange seeing them at 11pm at night as they're very much a "sunset band". Started a bit slow with The Birds - I'm not a massive fan of the new album though - and then did the usual hits. They went out on One Day Like This as expected which was probably one of my highlights of the weekend. After Elbow came The Strokes but considering I think The Strokes are a boring, over-hyped, pile of wanky crap we stayed for the intro of one song and then thought "nah fuck it" and went for a wander instead. I've seen them before and they lacked any energy and you're either a Strokes fan or you're not, and if you're not mad about them you'd probably be disappointed by seeing them live. Plus a girl in front of us puked just as they started playing (either out of excitement or boredom) so more the reason to leave. The rest of the arenas were empty in comparison (everyone was at The Strokes, the nutters) and we caught the end of The Stranglers with an unbelievably small crowd. Then came James Murphy who I recognised as being "that guy from LCD Soundsystem" but otherwise you wouldn't have had a clue who he was. Regardless, he was excellent and people were having a right old dance next to the portaloos. We also found a little garden thing with deckchairs and a pool - the water of which was of a questionable murky colour, but it didn't stop everyone jumping in.

Then came Friendly Fires. My mate Jazz had a power-nap in the queue for them considering they were playing from 3-4am and we were tired as hell but they're such an energetic band that once they came on everyone perked up, especially as they started with "Lovesick". We stayed for most of the set until I had to leave because I thought I was going to faint - really, DRINK WATER! OR YOU WILL DIE! (or feel a bit shitty).

Saturday: Mumford & Sons, Beirut, Arctic Monkeys, Primal Scream


Mumford & Sons - good, did a little jig, can't remember anything else, haha. Beirut were really good, we stayed for a couple of songs and they were a lot better live than I thought they'd be - kind of thought the mish-mash of instruments might just sound like a load of old noise but it wasn't. 

We laughed at the WC sign on this pole as there wasn't a toilet anywhere near. I was tempted to have a piss on it just to make a statement, but I was wearing a playsuit and everyone knows you can't piss easily in a playsuit.


Couldn't be arsed with Arctic Monkeys so we sat it out but sang along to them from a distance. By this point I was quite drunk and a bit *whatever* so I maybe should have gone to see them but I frankly couldn't be arsed. Then Primal Scream! Bobby came on in a silver jumpsuit thing turning his penis into a giant glitterball and they were very, very good. There was a lad in front of us dancing like it was the 1990s. It was all very odd, like going back in time. Or maybe that was just the rum. We left just before the end because we were tired but the good thing about having a tent so near to the arena was that even if you weren't actually watching the bands you could hear them perfectly, causing me to sing "GET YOUR ROCKS OFF GET YOUR ROCKS OFF HONEY" lying down in my tent whilst wiggling around, much to the annoyance of probably everyone around. I'm glad no one smothered me in my sleep.


Sunday: Noah & The Whale, Professor Green, Portishead, Arcade Fire, Roska


Noah & The Whale = superb! Professor Green = alriiiiight.

During Portishead. I can only assume this photo was taken by a 9 foot tall man.

Portishead! I think seeing Roads live was my highlight of the festival if not the best performance I've ever seen. Never felt that way watching a band...ever. The graphics on the screen were really good too, especially during the slower songs when it was probably easier to nod off. 

Arcade Fire! So so good.

Then we saw Roska for a bit but again we were too tired and wanted some food. We went to buy slices of pizzas bigger than our heads and then went to bed and nodded off straight away. A brilliant end to a seriously amazing week.


Costs - for flights we paid around £180 return but that was pretty late and you could get them a lot cheaper far in advance. For a return train ticket it came to just under £60. The actual ticket itself cost around £180 for 4 days of music and 7 days camping which is excellent value compared to the cost of UK festivals - plus you get a holiday and a festival in one. AND EVERYTHING IS SO BLOODY CHEAP OVER THERE! I can't recommend it enough. Plus it had the best festival atmosphere I've encountered so far. I'd definitely go back, I actually think it was the most fun I've ever had in a week. I LOVE YOU BENI!


(p.s. thank you Jazz and Patrick for some of the photos which my shitty disposable cameras could not capture, god damn you Kodak)

Girly Gadgets

Hello blog. I'm a tad annoyed tonight.

In the word's of Caitlin Moran: "HANG ON I'VE HAD SOME SEXISM AT ME! THAT WAS SOME SEXISM!"

I'm watching Stephen Fry's 100 Greatest Gadgets on Channel 4. I like Stephen Fry - in fact he's one of my favourite TV personalities. What angered me? Watching the programme, I found everything to be very male-orientated and "macho" in the words of Jon Snow. Not to mention that most of the people talking about the gadgets were indeed men, with a few women in the middle to talk about how great teas maids are because they save women the job of making so many darned cups of tea. Because that's all women do these days! Make tea!

In the middle of the countdown they lumped in a segment called, ahem, "Girl Gadgets". This name was implemented over a background of Katie Price, wearing pink, holding some pink straighteners. The gadgets involved in the "Girl Gadgets" segment were hair straighteners (pink), a pregnancy test, and swivel-tube lipstick. I suppose us silly women have to have our own section because as a woman I can't possibly also enjoy that satisfaction you get when you press the button on a tape measure and it snaps back, or appreciate the brilliance of a spirit level, because I haven't got a penis. I suppose I'm also not allowed to like Gameboys and cannot assemble a bike, because the whole having breasts thing doesn't allow for it. These "girl gadgets" weren't even included in the main gadget countdown, merely a side-note shoved into the space of two minutes, with poor Jo Brand explaining what hair straighteners are for and how pregnancy tests work. I suppose just to keep that minority of poor women who were forced to watch the programme with their husbands happy, because no woman could ever have an interest in gadgets of her own will. Gadgets are like, totally not for girls. For fucks sake, channel 4.

1. I know as many, if not more, men who use hair straighteners as opposed to women.

2. I like gadgets and can appreciate gadgets that aren't pink (shocking, I know!) and that have a function other than making my hair and face look all pretty (again, SHOCKING!)

3. I bet they don't include Rampant Rabbits (or any vibrators) on that list.

Synaesthesia: Blue Monday

A while ago I asked on Twitter if anyone else saw things as I did - for example numbers on a squiggly line moving upwards in a kind of stepping stone pattern. Also, I explained how I imagine days of the week as Sunday being in a dip lower than Monday and Wednesday being on a hill and slightly green. I got a couple of people saying that they saw things similar to me, a few people telling me it sounded like synaesthesia, but the majority of people going "Eh?! You're mad!" as they hastily rang up the men in white coats to cart me away for finally giving in to insanity. Well...not quite. After a quick Google I stumbled across a few things on the internet by people experiencing similar things to me (here, here and here) which somewhat confirmed that I probably do have synaesthesia.

Synaesthesia is a neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory of cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. In other words, triggering one sense automatically triggers another sense which would not normally have an associated reaction. This can lead to people seeing numbers and letters as having their own colours; one word or sound triggering a taste response; or imagining or "seeing" periods of time or numbers as spatial 3D map. Someone told me of a programme they saw where every time a man touched a £5 note he tasted bacon and many people can distinctly say that the number five is yellow, Z is white etc. It's a strange and fascinating thing but something I'm very interested in because I'm pretty sure I have spatial-sequence and number form synaesthesia. Not as fun as tasting bacon every time I touch a fiver but still pretty handy and something I can't imagine not having.

How the year might look to someone with synaesthesia

"If you are a synaesthate with a red A, your A has always been red and will always be red. And it's so intrinsic, that many synaesthetes never question whether this is unusual". It's important to note that although often similar, the forms/colours people associate with different months/numbers etc are exclusive to each person, therefore the information available about each type varies widely.

How numbers may look to someone with grapheme-colour synaesthesia (by Angela Hill) 

I have thought this way for as long as I can remember, but it was very prominent when I was in primary school, especially learning numbers and times tables. I get this effect of "mind-mapping" with every kind of sequence possible. Days of the week, times of the day (a bit less unusual as I simply visualise the clock-face), months of the year, years throughout history...and I still use it constantly today.

It's quite difficult to draw on paper how I visualise things as instead of a set 2D form it's more of a dynamic 3D map, kind of like a computer simulation, which I "fly over" in my mind. For example smaller numbers (1-10) are in a kind of valley and higher numbers - into the thousands - are at the top of a mountain. If I'm thinking of a number such as 15 I'll place in my mind being at the bottom of a mountain, looking up towards the higher numbers which are sitting on the outline of the mountain slope. Not a literal mountain, but the shape and the contours are similar.

I rarely see the full set of months at a time, only the months which are important to me at moment I'm having to think about them. For example if it's January and I'm thinking towards the coming September, I'll only see the names of January and September and September will be significantly further away and lower down than January. Therefore once I put all the months together on a drawing like below, it doesn't look much like how I'd actually imagine it, but I don't think there's a way I could accurately depict how it looks. It's like asking someone to explain a dream vividly from start to end or to draw it - some bits are blurrier than others and other parts are missing, with some parts just not making any sense in reality. Although I know how I imagine some months very vividly, other months like August are a bit wishy-washy. I'd describe it as a kind of mental calendar or diary where I can see each week in a month laid out, including the things I have planned on each day. I rarely use actual calendars/diaries as my mental calendar is so accurate I don't need to - the money I don't spend on diaries I can spend on vodka - hooray!

I don't predominately see the months in colours although I've always visualised June as a kind of sky blue, and July as a deeper blue. As opposed to a repetitive circular sequence, my months are on a seemingly never-ending squiggly line. In my head I distinguish the months from year to year, hence the non circular form - October 2009 won't be the same as October 2010 so after one year ends it flows on to another sequence of months from January-December instead of repeating back on itself in a circle like the coloured example at the top of this post.

In terms of visualising numbers, I've always imagined them as if they are on a kind of hill. For example if I'm doing maths and I'm adding or subtracting I visualise myself hopping up or down a hill, however many units I need to add/subtract by. I'll visualise myself at the bottom of the "hill" at 0 and look up to see 20, 30, 40 etc, the bigger the number the further up it seems. 100 is always at the top of the hill, and then after that the "hill" repeats so that 100-200 is just another hill, on top of the first original hill. (Does this make any sense? I think I'm lost too...) Higher numbers continue infinitely upwards to the right, and lower numbers infinitely downwards to the left. 

I really struggled to draw how I visualise the week, because although many existing diagrams have expressed the week in a sort of circular repeating form (same as the months), my days continue on a timeline considering both the days of the past week (e.g. last Monday) and those in the near future (next Wednesday, a week on Thursday, etc). I've never really seen colours with the days apart from Wednesday which has always been a grass-green hill. Not sure why! I've also always seen Pancake Tuesday as being a pale sky blue but that's about the only specific day of the year which I see in colour. 

As I said, I don't visualise what I've actually drawn below as it is, in the same way that you'd think of a banana and see a banana. It's not a 2D drawing in my mind, it's more a constantly changing dynamic - the steepness of the slope with the days on is determined by what day of the week it is. Also, whether I imagine myself looking at the days straight on and "flat", or if I'm doing the whole "on top of a mountain looking down" thing is determined by whether I'm thinking about the days in context of the past, present or future. The not-so-long-ago past would appear steeper than an event a few months ago which would be on a smoother line and seem a lot further away. Sunday has always been in a trough next to Monday and Monday and Tuesday along with Thursday and Friday have always been quite flat, with Wednesday as a "hump" in the middle. The weekdays are visibly separate from the weekends although Friday, Saturday and Sunday come together as a separate group, even though I also visualise Friday as a component in the weekdays, therefore there is some overlap in it.

The sequence which is the most definite for me is years. For whatever reason I've always been able to strongly imagine how different decades "look" e.g. the 1970s is on a smoother curve whereas the 1990s is quite irregular - possibly because I was born in 1992 and so associate that decade with rapid change. 2000 has always marked a significant change in the line - to approach the new century - and therefore anything after 2000 slopes considerably down to the left as it's categorised as "last century". The decade from 2000-2010 is fairly straight but 2011 is in a dip (this is always related to whatever year it is at the time) and then the years of the future rapidly increase to the right in quite a regular formation (probably because they haven't happened yet, therefore nothing distinctive has happened to influence their shape). Again, before the 1900s there is another vertical drop to the 1800s which gradually levels out into a straight line as we approach the 1700s, then the 1600s etc, moving further back in time.

One thing I also thought was quite significant when I did a bit of reading up about this was the claims that many synaesthates have photographic memories. I always thought this might be the case for me, an example being before an exam I could glimpse at a page for about ten seconds and then re-visualise the page in my mind during the exam, being able to read the words I had simply *seen* and not actually read before. I'm very good at remembering dates - birthdays in particular - and can recall insignificant memories in amazing detail such as remembering what the buttons looked like on the dress I wore for my 5th birthday party without having seen any photos of it since the day I wore it. I'm also really good at remembering things people have said to me which often surprises and freaks people out how I remember them once telling me about something completely trivial which they hadn't even remembered saying themselves.

All in all it's a very unusual but useful thing to have, and to people who don't have synaesthesia it probably does sound a bit "crazy" but I can't imagine how I'd cope without it. A few things I read presented it negatively as a "condition" and similar to autism which it's not, it's not an illness just a different way of programming information. I've always known I was a very visual person but now I think about it, I'm not sure if that was just the synaesthesia. Does every other visual learner have this? I certainly think it helps me to remember and understand things. I guess I was just interested if anyone else has synaesthesia and what kind of types you have? If anyone sees the spatial/number forms like me or gets the colour/taste associations? I think there's a lot of mystery about it because so many people probably have it and don't realise, so I'd be interested to see if anyone I know experiences similar things!