She's back

Touched down at London Gatwick at 8.40am yesterday morning having been awake nearly 24 hours. The holiday was amazing - great to see our good friends in Texas and what life is like there, amazing to see New England in all its glory. I'm in hiding today. I hadn't booked today as annual leave but when I woke up this morning I regretted it so I decided to take the day to sleep and chill - wise move. The cats are very, very pleased to see us. I can't sit or lie down without one of them moving in for a perch and a pat. Mr Lyle is currently staring at me intent on licking my chin.

Just heard that the job that Husband had applied for through an agency managed to send him an email about an interview to his work while we were away - after telling them we were on holiday and to use his personal email! The interviews were today so that's a great opportunity down the pan. He's fairly fed up with work, as despite the comraderie the conditions are worse than the NHS in many ways and he works such long hours he'll never be able to finish his studies.

Anyway, it's back to work for me tomorrow - although judging from the "out of offices" I received when I sent my email this morning it may be just me. Got friends staying tomorrow night and tickets to a folk concert.... life carries on....

P.S. Will post more about the trip, including my visit to a mid-western college campus, but for now let me just tell you this may have been a life changing experience.... anybody fancy visiting us after we emigrate to New England?

The last 10 minutes of Oprah

I'm working at home today so I can get the last bits of work done before heading off to the airport tonight, whilst still doing washing and taking the cats to the cattery. Fancying a coffee and a 10 minute break I flicked on the TV and came across the last 10 minutes of the Oprah Winfrey Show. Now I admire Oprah, and I watched an awful lot of her whilst I spent my 5 years horizontal and comatase as a teenager with CFS. The show is no longer broadcast on terrestrial TV in the UK so I only ever catch the odd little bit on a satellite channel, and what I've seen recently makes me worry for her sanity. 9 times out of 10 she seems to be interviewing the author of the latest "spiritual" book which has revolutionised her life, the content of most of which seems to contradict her Christian spirituality.... anyway... today was different, and even more painful.

Oprah was interviewing a NBA Basketball player who decided to address the problem of kids being beaten up or even killed for their expensive sneakers, not by helping people understand that its who you are not what you wear that matters, but by bringing out his own cut price range of shoes. Now I'm all for helping everyone have the opportunity to play sports and so making sports shoes and equipment affordable is generally a good thing. But I didn't get even the slightest impression that the reason why he had produced these shoes was to help kids play sports, but simply to provide a "premium brand" that everyone could afford.

His shoes were priced at $14.98..... so that's about £7.50 - and they were allegedly similar in technical performance to normal sports shoes. But dear god, what hell hole in the Phillipines did a 6 year old child have to slave in to produce a sports shoe for that price? Did he think of "fair trade" or "trade justice" when he was approached to endorse commissioned these shoes? Now I know things are not necessarily different for a pair of Nikes that cost £100, but would it ever be possible to produce a pair of high-tech sports shoes fairly for that price?

Anyway.... I've be distracted from my major point. Why should someone who has made a brand "more affordable" be congratulated as if he had done a major piece of charity work? Oprah stated that Sarah Jessica Parker had been "inspired" by him to produce her own cut price line of branded clothes. Woo Hoo SJP! You're surely on your way to sainthood now. This is not something that should be celebrated as a higher good as it just supports the whole brand conscious consumer madness.

I will give someone a slap on the back when they make something that is "unbranded", affordable, produced fairly to all those in the production chain, and has a minimal impact on the environment. That is something worth talking to Oprah about.

At Last.fm

Ok, I admit it, I'm generally no where near the forefront of technological discovery - but I don't think I'm at the rear either. This week's discovery is already changing my life. I'd heard about it last year but just took it as another "social networking" site and therefore something I didn't really need. Ok it had something to do with music but so what? Then an article in the Guardian newspaper made it sound a little more than that so I thought I'd check it out. Now, god damn it, I'm hooked.


How do you describe last.fm? Personalised radio? Music spider-web? Aural world organiser? I don't know - all I know is that I don't think I'll ever listen to music in the same way again. So let's get down to the practicalities - it's legal, it's not a file sharing service (hence the legality) but it gives you access to 1000s of music tracks whenever you want by choosing a "radio station" based on an artist's "similar artists" or a genre. I'm currently listening to "artists similar to The Hold Steady" (as recommended by darling Rand) and so far I've had a Bournemouth band called Art Brut and an American band called Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. I haven't heard of either of the them before, but so far I'm liking both of them.

Friday night Husband and I were sitting out on the front patio, drinking a little and enjoying the first summer night where we could enjoy the great outdoors (how crap is that) and had the "british folk" station playing through the window. On came Kate Rusby, June Tabor, Fairport Convention, Billy Bragg, Maddy Prior- things we'd heard, things we hadn't but like the sound of. A perfect soundtrack chosen for us by some wonderful algorithm beyond our comprehension. And do you know what? It's already learning what I like and making recommendations!

Go on, click the big red button.... and come into my magical musical land....

Oh no... they didn't

On sale at your local B&Q now for the bargain price of £89.99 - "Water butts":

Note from our postman

Scrawled on junk mail for previous owners:

"Can you please get a box or container to put your packets in as you are never in and I then have to carry them for quite a few miles. Thank you. Postie Joe"

But I thought delivering parcels was your job? We're "never in" because we both work full time. You can leave parcels (today a paperback book in padded enveloped) with our neighbour, but not in a box (or on our step as today) as it is not secure. Or you can just leave them at the depot and leave us a card. But then that would kinda defeat the point of having a postal service, which is paid for by the sender, which then employs you Postie Joe.

COME BACK SEXY SHORT WEARING IN WINTER SURFER DUDE POSTMAN - WE MISS YOU (even Husband)!

3 weeks to go

Tomorrow it will be three weeks until husband and I are off on our American adventure - and it can't come around soon enough. It's been 18 months since our honeymoon and our last proper holiday (i.e. longer than a long weekend), and I think we are both in desperate need of it. We booked the last thing we needed to book last night (I say "we" loosely as I've sorted it all as I'm the one who's good at that in our marriage, I just wanted him to choose the car - he went for a "Dodge Stratus" from Dollar) and now all we can do is wait. We've got machine readable passports so don't need visas, the travel insurance is sorted (with plenty of medical and legal cover, you know those crazy Americans), and the itinerary ("just in case") is nearly ready to go to our respective parental units.

Despite the fact that my job title starts with the word "international", I haven't really travelled very much. This will be my first trip to the States and also the first to that side of the Atlantic. I guess I am only 27, and with kids looking a less likely prospect, Hubbie and I should still have plenty of time to travel before we really do run out of oil and have to go back to pedalo crossings of the Atlantic.

We're off to Austin, Texas first for the City Limits festival and to stay with some University friends of mine. Then a couple of nights in Houston - Husband is being sent to the Johnson space centre while I pop on a work day trip to Oklahoma City. Then six nights in New England - spread between mid New Hampshire, Boston and Cape Cod. Expect lots and lots of pictures on our return

BBFC, what's happened?

I've been to the movies twice in the last couple of weeks after a long hiatus. Our Amazon DVD rental subscription normally puts me off paying the £6.20 to see a movie (so £12.40 for me and husband), but since our big TV broke and we're down to a 14 in portable until we decide to splash out on a new TV, some things just have to be seen on the big screen. Both films were aimed at young audiences, both also appealing to adults - Transformers and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Both films were rated 12A - i.e. if your under 12, you need to be accompanied by an adult.

I left the cinema on both occasions thinking, good film (surprisingly good for Transformers) but has the British Board of Film Classification lost its mind? I sat through Harry Potter with six and seven year olds crying behind me through the scary bits. It was a later evening showing of Transformers so I was spared a repeat performance but goodness knows what the afternoon showings have been like.

Transformers opens with an attack by an evil autobot on a US airbase in Qatar - the scene is like a cross between Starship Troopers and Jarhead - both of which received a 15 rating from the BBFC. The rest of the film is filled with a great deal of violence. I understand it is classed as "fantasy violence" but it still involves people being blown up and lots and lots of shooting! Many scenes made me jump, and I'm not squeamish. Harry Potter had less "violence" but was psychologically far more scary.

12A was originally applied in 2002 (to The Bourne Identity, dear God who would want under 12s to see that (excellent) film); replacing the 12 rating that had been brought in in 1989. Apparently it had been under consideration for a while but was prompted into use by Spiderman, as parents were complaining that their kids were desperate to see it but a 12 rating would mean they couldn't. So 12 was scrapped and 12A came in. But despite the fact that the BBFC policy for 12A indicates that this rating means that they think it is suitable for 12 and over only, but they leave it up to parental discretion to judge whether under-12s should see it I don't think this message gets across at all..... I guess the problem comes down to the fact that these films are made for and heavily marketed at kids.... and they don't include much sex or swearing or gritty person-on-person violence but that doesn't mean that 12A is a good idea as it sends a mixed message, and leaves parents open to pester power.... "No, I won't get scared Mum!"

In the words of a senior examiner from the BBFC when asked if she ever feels she has made a mistake in an interview in The Guardian, "I think every examiner goes home and thinks that....With me it was The Others." The Nicole Kidman horror film was passed uncut as a 12-certificate. Later, during one of the board's public consultations, Bates discovered that the film had scared the wits out of its younger viewers. "The problem with that film was that there was nothing onscreen; everything was implied. So within the letter of the guidelines I got it right. But it bothers me to this day."

I think the same is true for some fantasy films like Harry Potter, it is the viewer's imagination that helps make the film really scary or not - but for Transformers... how more "on screen" can you get! I'm generally not in favour of censorship for adult films - no matter how horrible I think it is, if it doesn't commit a crime in showing it, then it should get an 18 or an 18R if necessary. But come on BBFC, give the parents a break and help them look after their kids!

Not a flamin' 'gain

Right... I'm annoyed now - damn it I'm ill again. After a few months of feeling well, normal, for a while (not bouncing normal, but coping normally normal) I feel like crap again. Had a nasty bug which started about 2 weeks ago and just didn't shift - never quite became flu or a cold, but has left me totally wiped out.

I'm hoping a few days of 12-14 hours sleep and having a ginger cat permanently attached to my stomach will help. This had better not last long, the cat might get bored.

Anyway.... every down-turn seems to produce its own new language of lowness, so my new expression to describe how I feel is "like curdled milk" - warm and fuzzy, in a "gone off" kind of way. The irony is I'm DAIRY INTOLERANT!

Of Biblical proportions

"For thou didst cast me into the depth, in the heart of the seas, And the flood was round about me; All thy waves and thy billows passed over me." (Jonah 2:3).

And so the rains certainly did come. I was working from home/feeling ill on Friday so I managed to avoid the trauma that trying to travel home would have been. Decided to stay at home and work today rather than risk getting trapped anywhere. Husband's work is without power, water or road access as it sits right next to the river that is about to overwhelm flood defences as the water travels downstream. He is currently watching the cricket.

For those of you who aren't familiar with what has been happening in my home county of Gloucestershire, UK just log on for all the gory details.

Luckily our house is snug and dry - most of the way up a hill and just beyond the area affected by water and power cuts. But the damage is astounding, I'm amazed that the area hasn't been declared a disaster zone - or do we not do that in the UK?

Quality

Despite feeling like curdled milk (flu/cold/high temperature thing that won't go away), I am also feeling rather warm and fuzzy, in a good way, today. Had a lovely night out last night with my former colleagues as we celebrated the 10th anniversary of the organisation. In the time I'd been there we hadn't had a proper "big do" so it was so nice to have everyone dressed up to the nines - evening dresses, tuxedos and all that jazz - all in the wonderful setting of a restaurant made out of an art deco cinema.

I got to catch with all of the people that I miss having my daily natters with - over coffee, or when I need to stretch my legs. Had a good table - friends and interesting people who I didn’t know so well. Great food. Nice music. Very funny after dinner speaker – the gregarious Laurie Taylor. I even forced my dashing friend in his white tuxedo to dance with me.

Yes it was quite frustrating working there a lot of the time, but I met some damn nice people. I hope I'll be able to keep up with them even though I'm not there anymore. Had a good chat with my old boss - one of the people I do miss the most - I'm sure our paths will keep crossing in the future, although he'll be retiring at some point in the next few years.

Soundtrack

Partly inspired by my train journey this morning and partly by Mark's post, today I was thinking, as I often do, how important music is to me. I'm not a very highbrow classical music scholar nor a low brow "just pop" listener. I'm an eclecticist.

Americana. Folk. Country. Indie. Alternative. Rock. Grunge. Soul. R n B. Pop. Acoustic. Singer-songwriter. Even a little Dance.

My album collection spans them all. Blues and jazz are absent, but probably due to ignorance rather than dislike.

The soundtrack to my morning was an old, familiar album from the early 90s, from one of the artists who helped me to discover the "new women of country" - Mary Chapin Carpenter. For any of you who like songs that tell stories that are based on acoustic music, and don't know MCC yet, let me know and I'll send some off to you.

"Come on, Come on" was released in 1992 and contains the first country song that spoke to me with its honesty. "He thinks he'll keep her" is a classic woman's country song - a downtrodden wife finds her voice and her feet. The title reflects a throwaway comment in a bar by her husband on the merits of his wife - "I'll think I'll keep her".

Speaking to me today was "The Hard Way". You can listen to it here and the lyrics are below. It is just a sweet little song, nothing mind blowing, but reminded me that the best things in life often coming from doing things the hard way.

Show a little inspiration, show a little spark
And show the things that drew me to you and stole my heart
And tell me something I don't know instead of everything I do
And look at me as if I mean something to you
Our hearts are beating while we sleep, but while we're wide awake
You know the world won't stop, and actions speak louder
Listen to your heart, and what your heart might say
Everything we got, we got the hard way

Show a little passion, baby, show a little style
And show the knack for knowing when and the gift for knowing how
And have a little trust in us when fear obscures the path
You know we got this far, darling, not by luck, but by never turning back
Some will call on destiny, but I just call on faith
That the world won't stop, and actions speak louder
Listen to your heart, to what your heart might say
Everything we got, we got the hard way

Caught up in our little lives, there's not a lot left over
I see what's missing in your eyes; you're searching for that field of clover
So show a little inspiration, show a little spark
Show the world a little light when you show it your heart
We've got two lives, one we're given and the other one we make
And the world won't stop, and actions speak louder
Listen to your heart, and your heart might say
Everything we got, we got the hard (everything we got, we got the hard way)
Everything we got, we got the hard way
(Because the world won't stop) hang on, baby...

Graduation

I graduated four times in the last two days... ok, well I didn't actually graduate, but I led student processions into the Great Hall and stood next to them while they went up to shake the Chancellor's hand, so it felt like graduating.

Although I've been absolutely shattered this week, and I really could have done with a day at home today, it was still a really nice feeling to see all these young people so happy. It was also an excuse to get the old academic gown on again (although I swear the fabric was different than I remember) and wander around with a mortar board on. Free lunch as well (although not entirely edible as I was feeling fussy).

Mergers and acquisitions

And the day has finally come when I've finally merged my Book blog and Film blog archives into this blog. I was an over ambitious blogger when I started these things nearly a year ago.... as I think many of us are when we start on this blogging journey. So I thought it was time to rationalise my blog universe and transfer all my posts into the archive of this blog. I'm hoping this will reinvigorate my desire to rant about films and books, as doing so certainly helps me remember what I've watched and read.

I seem to have hit a mental road block where it comes to fiction. At the moment I'm happily ploughing through all my work related reading but cannot seem to get into any of the stack of novels I have sitting on by my bed. I also have £50 of book vouchers burning a hole into the top of my computer cabinet - my lovely and very generous leaving present from my last job. I also now have access to an academic library for the first time in a few years so some of the more obscure books from my amazon wish list are no longer inaccessible. So what am I going to spend my vouchers on? I have a great urge to buy two books on Judaism, which I lent to a fellow student at Uni and never saw again.... not perhaps the most useful things to clutter my house up with, but they were so lovely....

When I was 26....

As it was my birthday last Sunday, I'm going to steal doctor/woman's post idea and think about all the new experiences that I've had this year:

.... bought my first house

.... owned pets

.... traveled to Denmark, Belgium, Austria and Ireland

.... had my writing published

.... had my writing cited for the first time

.... bought an Mp3 player (and then another, damn you Windows Vista)

.... grown something (successfully) from seed

.... had heatstroke

.... made friends with someone who has a child

.... started a blog

.... peppermint tea

.... started a new job

I'm sure there are more but its getting late...

Inspired by Jen

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

The shock of the old

Now firstly, don't get me wrong, my new job is looking like it was definitely the right move - lots to get my teeth into, a friendly team and a bearable commute. But let's just say it hadn't really occurred to me just how different some of the little things would be.

I've worked at a couple of universities before and I knew that things were unlikely to be as shiny, new and well resourced as working for a government funded organisation. However I thought I'd share my observations on the little differences so far.... (so be prepared for pointless bitching):

1. No kichen on our floor. I don't know how many people work on mh floor - it is all little separate offices - but I reckon at least 50. The fridge is in the head of service's PA's office, mugs are washed in the disabled toilet down the hall and water is boiled and tea making equipment stored on a rickety trolley in the corner of my office.

2. No central IT purchasing/renewal. Where I used to work we had a replacement cycle of 3 years (4 at a push), we had access to new technology: smart phones, smart boards, big LCD monitors etc. At my new work if you want a new computer, your office has to buy it, spec it, and install it. I currently have a beige (that says it all) quite early Pentium 4. I just got rid of my middle years Pentium 4 at home. It has at most a 14 inch screen with appauling resolution. I work from home at least 1 day a week and commute about 3 hours a day so... I need a laptop, with docking station and a decent sized monitor on my desk to work at my best. It has been moote but I don't want to push it as even my boss has the same crappy PC as me.

3. Library facilities are at least 20 years out of date. Book selection as far as I can tell is ok but IT resources are non-existent and the lighting and layout are horrible. Worst of all it is half the size of the library of where I did my MA but we have nearly twice as many students.

Yes, I know I'm moaning.... I feel like it god damn it! I probably shouldn't be, after all it looks as though I'm going to be happy here. They are upgrading some of the facilities - new sports centre, new (but rather small) student's union. But no library renewal, no IT upgrades for staff - admin or academic. I work in a fairly prestigious institution, well attended, brings in enough research money, good reputation... but they seem so behind in so many ways. At least they have ducks.

Anchors

Two things in the last 24 hours have made me think again about parental relationships - something I pondered quite a bit last year after reading "Mother, Missing" by Joyce Carol Oates - and what the absence of a parent can mean.

On the news yesterday was a piece about a deal that the NHS has made with the manufacturer of a drug for the treatment of bone cancer. I think as cancers go this is one that is pretty impossible to cure outright, but it is possible to use treatment to extend survival time, and this new drug can improve that further by 6-12 months. A good friend of mine's mother was diagnosed with bone cancer this time last year. She's had surgery and radiotherapy I think, and is back at work part-time - but she is definitely not cured.... As the GP who let the phrase "Let's try and make your remaining time more comfortable" slip indicated.

My friend is permanently estranged from her father and not particularly close to her sibling, who lives several hundred miles away. If her Mum dies, actually that should be when her Mum dies, that will be it for her close family.

A flash-forward example of a young woman who had lost her Mum and didn't know her father was on a dreadful C4 documentary last night, entitled "Animal Au Pair". It followed the fortunes of a woman farm-owner come reindeer breeder (?) and her search for an au pair both for her son and her animals. It became clear quite quickly that she was the least tolerant and sympathetic woman possible - basically wanting a live in farm-hand and nanny (two full time jobs) who she could pay a pittance to and order around.

The girl who lasted the longest (7 weeks) was from Zimbabwe, she looked bout 19. Her mother had died of lung cancer at the age of 49. She had some family in Zim, but wanted to come back to England, where she was born, and as it developed, find her long lost father. She was a beautiful young woman, still obviously reeling from her mother's death, living with this nightmare woman. Luckily, she found her father, and he seemed to want to know her again - so hopefully she will have a new "home".

I can't imagine losing - in whatever way - both parents as a child or young adult. To not have a "home" to visit and people who were there everyday when you were growing up. Now that I'm building my own family, my husband provides that safe haven more than my parents, but that is only a recent development.

To me, my parents are my anchors, we don't speak as often as we should or I'd like; and with an ocean between us (even only a little one), it has been nearly a year since I've seen them. I must fix that this summer. But they are still there, a repository of memories, a place to retreat for comfort if something bad were to happen. They are the 2nd people I call, after my husband, when I have big news like a new job, or even silly things like having re-decorated the hallway.

They're both in their late 50s so I guess they could well be around for another 20 years or so in them yet, but then there might not be. I'll miss them so much when they are gone.

That moment

I'm on my week off between jobs and despite first fears that Husband was going to have to work all week it looks like he is only going to have to work a few hours tomorrow morning - so we have started our "holiday at home".

Today, on a whim, I dragged us to Buscot Park - a stately home and gardens owned by the National Trust in Oxfordshire. It's about a 40 minute drive from where we live. I had an particular motive for wanting to visit.... but I didn't tell my Husband until we got there - not that he would mind.

I have a fondness for some of the art movements that spanned the late 19th and early 20th century - particularly Arts and crafts, Art nouveau and Art deco. More recently I've been exploring the pre-raphaelites, the artists that often went hand in hand with the artisans of the Arts and Crafts movement. Luckily for me, Oxfordshire has many connections with Arts and Crafts and the Pre-Raphaelites - Kelmscott Manor, the country home of William Morris is also close by.

Anyway... Buscot Park is home to the Faringdon Collection - a large collection of artworks put together by the 2nd Lord Faringdon in the early 20th century. It features artworks from 500 years of western and oriental art. But most importantly, it contains one of the most stunning pieces of Pre-Raphaelite art by the artist Sir Edward Burne-Jones, a series of 4 paintings and 10 joining panels entitled "The Legend of the Briar Rose" - now all built into a room in the house. The main panels are snapshots of the story of Sleeping Beauty.

I walked into the room and felt a tingle down my spine. The paintings glow, the colours blend - so soft that they almost look like pastels even though the image is rendered in oil. The world is sleeping and from the palace guards, to the king on his throne, the handmaidens and sleeping beauty herself the whole world is dreaming. Entwined around all the figures is the briar rose that has grown and twisted around as the figures slept.

I am a romantic at heart. I love arthurian legends, fairytales, true love and promises that are never broken. It's been a long time since I've been affected by a work of art as much as I was today and it made me feel so peaceful.

Mad kids

Oooh... I've had a bit of a blog hiatus haven't I? I must be more efficient at turning my night-time mind blog posts in actual post the next day.

I've got rather bad insomnia at the moment and so other than late night Wikipedia editing, I've been devouring my copy of New Scientist magazine as soon as it lands on my door mat. It is the source of many a night time mind blog post but this time I'm managed to hold on to my rant and I'm actually going to get it down on electronic paper.

First of all a caveat. I take mental illness very seriously, it is real, extremely distressing condition that deserves as much, if not more attention and support as physical illness. I also believe that children can suffer from mental illness - although I believe the approach to treatment, particularly with medication, should be approached even more cautiously than it is in adults.

Both the editorial and an article were concerned with the massive increase in diagnosis rates for bi-polar disorder (manic depression) in children in the US. In 1996, 13 out of every 100,000 children were diagnosed as having bi-polar disorder, in 2004 that rate was 74 out of ever 100,000 - a more than five fold rise. In 1994 the DSM-IV official psychiatric manual definition of bi-polar disorder was significantly widened to include three new forms of the disease - including one that is "bi-polar not otherwise specified" i.e. doesn't fit into the other definitions but we still think its bi-polar.

The article tells the story of Rebecca Riley, diagnosed at 2 with ADHD, at 3 bipolar disorder and by 4 she was dead - from an overdose of prescribed clonidine. She was also taking valproate and quetiapine fumarate.

I get the sense that western societies are increasingly medicalising their way out of newly perceived "problems" with our children. I don't see any other explanation for the massive rise in diagnoses of bi-polar disorder in the US, and of I get the increasing sense that generally western societies are increasingly trying to medicalise with ADHD, autistic-spectrum disorders etc. in the US and around the world. I went to school with a kid with Aspergers, he had it bad enough that it was very obvious and most likely needed a lot of support. My cousin-in-law was diagnosed with Aspergers a couple of years ago, and although he may tick some of the diagnostic boxes, does this label actually help him? He is shy, only eats chips, and can flip his lid sometimes. But he is also perfectly able to have a decent conversation, has friends and is living in a very unusual and stressful household - so I can see why any person would flip their lid occasionally, and for God's sake, he's a teenager after all. A generation ago he wouldn't have been labelled as anything except a bit quiet.

How can you diagnose bi-polar disorder in a 3 year old? They haven't even got a lot of their sense of identity or how they relate to the world around them fixed yet. And even if you think something may be wrong - should we medicate them with serious drugs which have all sorts of side effects and can severely shorten life span? I think not - could we just not support the parents and the child instead?

I am a big fan of the BBC programme "House of Tiny Tearaways". It is a purpose built house where families come to spend a week with their kids and a clinical psychologist. They deal with the whole range of behavioural problems by helping the parents see how they can change their child's behaviour by changing their own behaviour. They have started the week with some real terrors and some terrible problems, but with the intensive support and guidance in almost all cases they've made amazing progress by the end of the week. In other circumstances, in other countries I'm sure some of these kids would have been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and medicated - but shouldn't this be the absolutely last resort?

Kids will be kids, and some will act a lot stranger and be far more unruly than others, but they are only part formed and we should help them develop, not label them and medicate them.

Change

A lot of stuff has happened over the last few weeks that has caused some deeper self-reflection than I have been indulging in of late. A couple of things have also happened in the last couple of days which really got my head delving inwards; mainly the re-appearance of an old friend and meeting my new boss (why does he have to be distractingly attractive?).

After chatting with my new boss I have been totally hyper-actively happy. I am finally starting to calm down now a full 48-hours after our meeting, but moving into a rather spaced state of mind as a consequence. After finding out more of what I'm going to be doing it finally struck me that 5 years post graduation this is it, the first job where I'm going to have direct responsibility for setting and helping achieve an organisation's strategic objectives. I'm going to be allowed to get fully out and about, build networks and make contacts on my own merits. I don't think 5 years is bad, and my current job has allowed me to jump about 2 levels in the system in which I work, something which I will be eternally grateful for - as I'm not very good at being patient enough to "work through the grades". I know its going to be a lot of hard work, but I am so much happier when I have a lot to do. My boss seems like a pretty genuine guy, who likes his job and the majority of people he has to work with and there is support from the really senior staff for what we're going to be doing.

The re-appearance of an old friend has put who I am now compared with who I was when I graduated in clearer perspective. After a very close 5 years or so of friendship things became a struggle between us, for reasons which I am still not entirely clear about. Anyway, she has got back in contact and given me her take on events. I feel one of the things that has changed about me since Uni is a greater capacity to put myself in other people's shoes - I guess that is a big part of maturity. Not that I always manage it in the moment, but with a bit of time I try and see where someone else is coming from. So, although my perceptions of events were fairly different, to me that really doesn't matter now. I don't want to re-hash the whos, what, wheres and hows...

If we can be friends again, then of course I want to be friends again. A lot of that depends on who we both are now I guess. And who exactly am I now? For me the biggest changes in my self identity have been since Uni, not when I was a teenager. Getting into work, living in the "real world" (not the student one), working through all sorts of stuff with Husband, buying houses, re-locating far away from family and friends.... all of these things have shaped me more than I realised at the time. I hope I'm more tolerant generally, but a little more selfish than I used to be with my time and who I choose to spend it with (a good thing for me, believe me). I have a clearer sense of my own political and moral standpoints and I'm more willing to argue on behalf of them when it matters, and more likely to leave them drop when it doesn't.

One of the things I value most are "old friends" - which I guess why this re-appearance has focused my reflections. I don't have friends from secondary school - for a number of reasons - but my Uni friendships are coming up to 8 years now... and the ones that have lasted, even if I no longer see the individuals as often as I'd like, are really precious to me. The comfort and peace of spending time with old friends is a real treasure - no expectations, no harsh judgements, just support and laughter. I find these friendships feel pretty much effortless now, to me (and I hope to them) it doesn't matter if we don't see each other for weeks or months - it we're still "us". For those "old friends" who read this blog, you mean the world to me still.