I’d Like a Refund Please

“I’m living so far beyond my income that we may almost be said to be living apart.”

– E. E. Cummings (1894 – 1962)

As a student, I don’t expect to have an abundance of money. I’m not saying that I savour every last penny of my loan, or that I am in any way sensible with the small amount of earnings I make. The tuition fee debate over the last 12 months has sparked a lot of controversy, and many people are angry about this – most of us know that politicians stretch the truth as far its elasticity will allow. Nick Clegg, I am talking about you (again). You have lied to us, and we are hurt. The worst part is, it is, and always will be us that have to pay. Nick Clegg will never know the heartbreak of telling his children that he simply can’t afford to put them through University. Recently it has been announced that many Universities will be charging the full £9,000 for fees, that was supposedly going to be reserved for “very special circumstances”. Clearly old polytechnics up and down the country are just that.

As the second year of my degree draws to a close, I don’t have to worry about these extra charges. I feel deeply for those that do. I know smart, brilliant people who will now not be attending University because the fees are too high. People that wanted to become doctors, people that given the chance want to be able to help other people. I, like many others, am angry, because this is extortion and because there is nothing we can but recess into a deeper class divide. My fees will total roughly £10,000 when I leave education, which is a lot of money. I came into this with open eyes, and I was fully aware of the charges I faced. The main issue for me? The fact that nothing works.

The University I currently attend has announced that from September 2012, the full £9,000 a year will be charged. At the moment, £3,225 is ridiculous. I went into the library on Wednesday, to print an essay. When I arrived, I discovered that the servers were down, which meant I could not access the internet, which included the email with my 3,500 words in. I could, and should, have backed it up – problem solved. Except none of the printers were connected to anything, which meant it wouldn’t have made any difference. On Friday, I went back in to print something totally different out, only to find that the problem hadn’t been solved and there was not one printer in the entire building that worked. Today, Monday, I called the finance office to see if I could obtain a letter to give to the bank, and how long this would take to process. I was told that I could go in today and pick it up there and then. When I arrived, I was informed that the servers were still down, and even if they weren’t it would take until Wednesday morning to process. And that is only if the network is back up and running. I know that you can’t expect everything to work all the time, and given the amount of usage and pressure the systems are exposed to, it is only a matter of time before something breaks. However, with 18,000 students, each paying on average £3,000 a year, you’d think that they would be able to afford to get somebody in to fix things faster. Apparently, this is not the case. Had this been an isolated incident, it would be a slight annoyance. Add to unavailable tutors, disruptive building works and extra charges for societies – I’d like my money back please? I know I’ll only spend it on shoes and bags that I don’t really need, but at least I’ll be able to enjoy it.

I am aware its been a while, so just to cheer things up; in other news and in true British fashion, I’d quite like the weather to make its mind up – scarves and sunglasses is a very hard look to pull off. I’ve got less than a week left of year two, and it would be nice if for at least some of it could be spent in a beer garden! Very excited for Rob Brydon on Friday; slightly concerned that they’ve called to ask if I’ve got any funny stories. I’m sure I have plenty, but I’m not certain how many of them are suitable for broadcasting. I have discovered that Bruce Forsyth will be the main guest for the event. Glastonbury is just over 5 weeks away, and I still do not own a tent or any wellies. I have an income now though, so I shouldn’t have any problems getting it sorted!

Thin People are Beautiful, But Fat People Are Adorable

Jackie Gleason was not a thin man, but when he is talked about, he is more recognised for his acting and musical work than he is for his weight. I rarely join arguments that have anything to do with eating disorders, or weight issues. People have them, people come in all different shapes and sizes, and no amount of discussion will ever change that. Today I felt the need to say something. Many of you will be familiar with the BBC1 soap, Eastenders. There is currently a character called Abi Branning. The actress who plays her is called Lorna Fitzgerald, she is a keen dancer, and enjoys ballet and tap. She was born in 1996, which, by my calculations would make her 15 years old. Today, somebody posted a facebook status, referring to her as “Abi the chunk”. Now, everybody is entitled to their own opinion, but a grown “man” (and I use the term extremely loosely) calling her a chunk when she is clearly a perfectly healthy size?

In the world of showbiz, people are under constant scrutiny by the invisible forces that pressure us to feel we ought to be 2 sizes smaller than we are, spend silly amounts of time tweezing, waxing, bleaching, straightening, tanning and anything else we can do to change our appearance. Who are these people and why are they telling us to behave this way? Today the Daily Mail posted an article about Gemma Collins, from the ITV show The Only Way is Essex who has recently posed nude for Heat Magazine, declaring that she loves her 17 stone body and the size 20 curves that come with it. Good for her, really good for her, because I know I would never have the confidence to do something as bold. And if she really is happy, then that is a lot more than 90% of the women I know can claim. But as an ambassador for larger women, what kind of message are we sending out? We can ban size 0 models from catwalks, because they’re starving themselves to death, but when somebody who is overweight wants to pose naked, we hold them up as a shining example to the rest of the world.

So now I’ve finished my little rant, I’m aware I am sending rather mixed messages. I know I run the risk of sounding a little bit Mean Girls but please, can’t we all just get along? Guys, don’t comment on a girls body weight. It makes you sound rude, immature and shallow. Especially if that girl is only 15. Girls, you don’t have to be obese and you don’t have to be a stick figure. Find a happy medium, happy being the operative word. Now that is over, I will try really hard not to talk about size issues, because there is far too much of that in the world already.

The sheep are doing well; still no names for the girls, but my cruel, cruel little sister has named the two boys “Lamb” and “Chops”.  I’m thinking maybe Matilda. I used to love that book! Today, I have been re-reading Wide Sargasso Sea for an English essay I have due after the Easter break. I feel like I will never escape Jane Eyre. In other news, Nick Clegg has been urged to pull out of the coalition by one of his own party members. It hasn’t been a good week for him. It has been suggested that Lib Dem MPs around the country are going to lose seats because Nick Clegg has lost supporters. It is a shame, but its also a bit concerning that even his own party are trying to disown him. Do I smell mutiny?

Desperate Housewives?

Day one of sorting my life out and I’m sat in my pyjamas watching children’s TV. How I love the holidays. The lambs are feeding better now too – I’m just looking forward to not needing a shower as soon as I’ve finished giving them the bottle. Still need names for the two girls – I’m thinking maybe Thelma and Louise? There aren’t really too many pairs of girls names, a lot trickier than I thought it would be. The sun is no longer shining, and it actually looks pretty miserable outside. You have to love the British weather.

The reason this is titled “Desperate Housewives” today is because I recently read a news story about David Willetts. The University minister for the UK, Willetts feels that feminism is a huge issue for social mobility. According to Dave, “women who would otherwise have been housewives had taken university places and well-paid jobs that could have gone to ambitious working-class men.”

From Frank Warren's Postsecret

I mean, I understand that there has been a shift in the working demographics for this country, but to blame it entirely on feminism? I am sorry that I have taken such a valuable space in education. He is right, that space could have gone to a man. I’m not particularly fond of feminism. I’m all for women being granted opportunity and equality, but I think people need to remember that there are differences between men and women. And when it all boils down to it, feminism should really be about choice more than anything else. That is when I came across this secret. Postsecret may or may not be something that you are familiar with, but I have been reading every Sunday for as long as I can remember. It is an ongoing community art project where people send in postcards with their secrets on the back of them. This postcard in particular stood out after reading the news story. Sometimes, I agree with Dave on his take on feminism. I think it is sad that clearly some women feel pressured into education because it is naturally the next step. But before the Pankhurst sisters are spinning in their graves, I will say that I am incredibly grateful for the sacrifices they made. It is a shame that people thing feminists only exist in razor dodging lesbians.

This afternoon I have a wonderful friend coming to collect me, who is then going to drive me round and help me find a job. Job searching is so soul destroying, I’m thankful for the company. Also, I think people have now realised if it isn’t free, I won’t be able to join in. I really, really hate being poor. Now for the lunchtime feed – I promise I will get some pictures up while they’re still cute!

“Why Are The Students Angry?”

Really Clegg, really?

In his latest attempt to gain sympathy from the general population, Nick Clegg has appealed to their good old human nature, saying “I’m a human being, I’m not a punchbag – I’ve of course got feelings.” In an interview conducted by Jemima Khan, Clegg has revealed that he frequently cries to classical music, doesn’t belong in Dave’s world of Oxfordshire dinner parties, and he also claims that “I didn’t even spend that much time campaigning on tuition fees.” I’m sorry, but when I look at this interview, the only thing I can see is a 44 year old man who is feeling a bit sorry for himself because none of the other boys want to let him play.

I can totally appreciate that it must be horrible to be spat on in public, and having faecal matter posted through your front door probably isn’t  fantastic either… I don’t condone this behaviour, nor should anybody have to put up with it – but asking us to sympathise with him because his 9 year old son asks “Why are the students angry with you, Papa?” I’m not being funny, but is this really the best he can come up with? He even states elsewhere in the interview that “I have a rather old-fashioned belief that you’ve got to stand by what you’ve done and take the consequences, good or bad.” So how is this standing by your actions? And FYI, you aren’t going to get extra pity points for having a son called Antonio, who refers to you as “papa”.

Maybe I am being a bit harsh. I mean, it must be difficult to tell your children that you’re a spineless liar. What a ridiculous display of self indulgence. I don’t much care for Cameron, but at least he doesn’t get upset about being such a wanker. And for the claim that you didn’t spend much time on student fees? I beg to differ. As a student, I definitely remember all the publicity and effort he put into this pledge.

I know this is riddled with literary errors, I’m just so angry I can’t use my words properly. And we can’t all afford to go to bloody Cambridge…