Thursday, 26 March 2009
This is long overdue, we cannot afford to be reserved about these things. It seems the government is finally understanding this, that every effort has to be made to try and reduce teenage pregnancies. That is not to say that teenage mothers aren't good parents. I know many young mothers that do an amazing job, but there is an epidemic in this country.
Teenagers need to be educated in the importance of using condoms. There is so much ignorance going on amongst young people and we can't afford to let it happen. We already have advertisements for condoms on television but these are only on channel four and most are after the 9pm watershed. Yet these advertisements convey an important message. Two of recent relevance refer to the use of condoms to prevent STIs (Condom: Essential Wear) and the 'Want Respect, Use a condom' campaign. The respect campaign involved teenagers the morning after a sexual encounter spilling the details to their friends, and how when they revealed the didn't use a condom they lost respect from their peers.
I think its important to get hard hitting messages like this out into the open. I was lucky enough to have good sex education at my school, but not all students are as lucky. Also, it is easy for pupils to take the lesson as a joke and laugh with their peers. We know that the majority of young people use the television as their main information outlet, and this is where they get most of their sexual knowledge from. Yet in television dramas, how often do we see anybody use a condom? How often do they get pregnant or contract STIs? It happens, but not often.
The pregnancy advice services advertising would also include information about abortions. There is no doubt that this will cause much debate amongst pro-life supporters but that option needs to be out there. These advertisements wouldn't promote abortion, they would just face women with another choice.
I really hope these proposals go ahead. In Europe, sex is much more out in the open and their rate of teenage pregnancies are nowhere near as high as our own. Further education about sex to young audiences and openness is our society is the only way anything will ever change. Sex is everywhere we look, so what is the problem with providing further knowledge to the young?
Monday, 23 March 2009
I really do love this country, however I think as a nation we have a difficulty finding our inner patriotism. We are a nation with poor self confidence, constantly highlighting our flaws and standing in the shadow of America. But we're GREAT Britain for a reason.
Travelling on public transport is the best chance to get a real snapshot of the country. With nothing to do but flick through a magazine and avoid staring at people, you really get to observe your fellow passengers. The majority of British passengers will sit and keep themselves to themselves, which is another little characteristic I love. Yeah its slightly rude and unsociable, but its also an excellent example of how we are a reserved country. I think its a good thing, who wants to sit next to some stranger and hear them spill out their entire personal life. Sometimes travelling can just be an excellent excuse to rest. Yet in this country, you really do get some people that surprise you, those strangers that can bring a smile to your face.
Today while travelling back to Lincoln from a weekend back home, I got the pleasure of a wonderful lovely woman sitting next to me. For anyone thats just been on a demoralising silent journey on the tube and battled through crowds of people at turnstiles and train timetables, it really is a breath of fresh air. Straight away she said hello to me, she didn't judge me because I was young or reading a magazine. Just minutes later she offered to buy me a coffee or tea ( I politely declined) and then she was offering me most of her packet of crisps. You don't see an awful lot of generosity these days, especially with money being as tight as it is, so for somebody to put themselves out to a stranger like that, it really warmed my heart.
The 7/7 bombings really showed how this country teams together in the face of disaster. For tube commuters who would usually ignore one another to help each other in a life or death situation, was a warming example of our commaradary defeating the actions of evil. We team together when it matters and look out for our fellow citizens. It would of been so easy to escape and save yourself and leave the strangers behind, but survivors teamed together and lifes were saved that day.
It's the little things in this country that make me love it so. Yes a lot needs to change, and the weather leaves a lot to be desired. Yet here in this glorious country; a cup of tea solves everything, a Sunday isn't complete without a roast dinner and we have excellent swearwords.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
However, having been single for far too long, and having too much time by myself. I have drummed up some excellent reasons, why having a boypeice around would be rather helpful. Now of course, I'm an independent woman and I don't need a man to make me complete, but there are some things you can't do alone.
Firstly, I would have a man around to do manly jobs, that I'm too weak for. I am highly unfit with pathetic weak arms, which poses a great challenge when I go shopping. I dread ever buying heavy items like potatoes and juice, because walking back feels like a marathon. Every moment, I am paralysed with fear that the weak carrier bag will split because the shop assistant has displayed an amazing ability to fit everything in one bag. In the event I had a boyfriend, he could display his manly ability to carry heavy items. Even in the event it was quite heavy for him, men being men, I highly doubt he would display this and would carry on with the job in hand.
Secondly, it wouldn't be quite so scary walking back from a night out. Walking with a boy means I'm much less likely to get cat calls from weird pervy old men. When left to walk alone in the dark, I walk at the speed of light. This would save an awful lot of leg work if I had a nice gentleman to walk me home. Another quite useful use of a boyfriend, would be as transportation during said night out, when my tiny feet can't take the piercing pain of heels anymore, a piggy back is at hand.
Moving on, there really isn't anything better than a big man hug. Having some nice toned arms around you, feels like the safest and best place in the world. However, this hug would have to require effort, there really isn't anything worse than a half arsed hug.
Most men are also quite good at technical things. While scart leads and the TV menu leave me dreadfully lost, the male species displays an uncanny ability to master these electrical nuisances.
Possibly one of the best reasons would be that I would have an excellent excuse to drive off unwanted male attention from the many weirdos that reside in clubs and bars. Yes, I do realise I can lie and say I'm taken, but I'm an awful liar and it would actually be nice for that to be true for once.
I do realise I'm being very naive, and this mythical boyfriend I've dreamt up rarely exists. However, wouldn't it be nice? Until then, I think I'm going to have to invest in a granny trolley, so buying potatoes doesn't have to be the bane of my life. Yet this purchase may eradicate my chances of attracting the opposite sex altogether.
3 Reasons why men are a complete mystery.
1. There are so many hidden rules- Don't text too much, Don't text til your texted, Play it cool.
2. You pretty much have to treat them like rubbish for them to like you.
3. In the words of Katy Perry- They're hot then they're cold.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Okay, my teen years are gradually drawing to a close and now that I don't live with my parents anymore, I naturally have to grow up. But who would of thought, that I would actually care about dust, and polish would be my new best friend? That my flatmates leaving crumbs and spills on the surface would make my blood boil?
I have turned into a prize nagger, frantic post it notes slammed on the offending item, explaining my complete frustration at this act of untidiness! Only for them to be ripped off, minutes later by the flat rebels. Years of cleanliness drummed into me by my mum, taking full effect now shes not here to do it or nag me into submission. Yet my authority has no ground here, there's no blood ties or parental surveillance. My own stubbornness tells me not to do it for them, so as the mess grows, I grow slowly more insane.
When I'm not huffing and puffing over a full sink or crumbs sticking to my bare feet, I'm filling time between lectures. Suddenly getting up in the morning is so much harder, because the call of Phil and Fern is just too tempting. I'm finding myself watching segments on shocking true life stories and fashion advice on This Morning. Then comes the health piece, riddling me with hypochondria.
I have reached middle age prematurely. When I should be living in my own mess, drinking nightly and not giving a damn what I eat, I'm living the opposite. This can only arguably be a good thing; less chance of poisoning myself is a plus. Yet I fear I have already become boring, not that I ever was exciting. Am I set to spend my student days chasing after my messy peers with a dust cloth and antibacterial sprays?
I actually contemplated how I need a feather duster the other day. I need professional help.