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Spoke too soon.

More posts to follow later.

Ahhh!

7 hours of near continuous, dream-filled sleep.

At last!

Advert rage

Ever deconstructed the messages and language within adverts?

Sometimes there's fun to be had (see the weekly column at the beginning of the Saturday Guardian's Guide section). Sometimes there are pure head-desk moments. And sometimes the red mist of rage descends.

At the moment, amongst others, I am feeling pretty pissed at the relatively recent appearance of adverts which assume that plastic surgery will be an eventual and necessary choice for every woman.

Firstly, Juviderm, a feather will never convince me that the needle you are hiding behind it will not hurt. Of course it frickin' will. And no, I do not have an aesthetic practitioner. And hiding the word surgery does not change the realities or the risks of undertaking even so-called simple procedures.

But putting all that to one side, the other thing that chaps my hide about all of this is the limited and restrictive idea of 'perfect woman' that these kinds of adverts promote at an apparently increasingly urgent fashion. These women are almost universally white, definitely middle-class (both by accent and by resource measures for these things to be matter of course), absolutely not queer, not differently abled, without doubt cisgendered, etc. This woman that we are all supposed to be and to spend money on being as 'naturally' as possible ignores the realities of the vast majority of women in this country. I realise that advertisers target the market that will buy their product, but when all the adverts make the same assumptions, I have to come to the conclusion that to a capitalist system, I am invisible and therefore irrelevant.

On the other hand, when I think about who I am invisible to, maybe I am better off existing in their blindspots.

The need for sleep

3 hours of sleep a night, in two 1 and a half hour batches, is simply not enough.

I can only hope that tonight is at least a smidge better. Fingers crossed

Lovely afternoon

I just had the loveliest afternoon with my Roller Derby girls.

A bit of yoga, homemade pizza, strawberries, good music and good conversation.

Bruis'em and Toxic rock. Love you, ladies

Presenting my nerves

So two days ago, I gave my first academic presentation of this PhD and I think it was safe to say that I was pretty terrified. I am a very confident public speaker and performer and knew that I had that bit covered just fine. The truly frightening element was presenting in front of other PhD and MA students from my home institution and a similar department from a nearby university, and more to the point the academic members of staff from both institutions. I struggle with anxiety about my work not being good enough to give to my supervisor, so putting it out on display for all these people I respect was almost too much.

Don't tell anyone, but there were points in the day that I seriously thought about feigning illness and wussing out. It really did not help that I was the only first year PhD student presenting - all the others were second or third years with experience to reflect on. The brief for the day was methodology - in the main the other presenters focussed on method and the challenges of those methods. Because I am taking a slightly different approach, my paper was written from a more meta-methodological angle, and so as the day went on I became more and more anxious that my paper was pitched all wrong and that as well as being inadequate in itself, I was also going to be talking to them about completely the wrong thing.

The four coffees probably did not help with keeping perspective.

But now I am on the other side of the whole process. And from here it looks very different indeed. I can honestly say that I presented well. As a performance of 'presenting a paper', I carried it off. The content of the paper, I am still not sure about and in reading it I realised that it sounded more contentious than I really intended. But I think the structure held together and I presented a coherent argument. Since I am so ealy in the process of developing my ideas, I think this is ok.

But the real learning point for me has been about the process, eespecially the emotional element of the whole thing. I have always struggled with needing people's approval (I don't think that is particularly unusual). I could feel the audience getting away from me at points as they disagreed with what I was saying and had a strong conflict between running out of the room or stopping to appease them. But I didn't. I kept on with my presentation and maintained my authority as presenter. I accepted the questions put to me at the end calmly and was able to respond without becoming defensive. Now my commenter was very generous and gentle and in no way attacking, but I know that previously when I have been that anxious it has been hard to hear such generosity and not simply be automatically defensive.

So on reflection, the day feels like a triumph. Not for the quality of the paper, but for the learning about giving a paper at a conference. I learned that I can say things that others might find contentious and I can stand by them. I also learned that I can be much braver than I thought. And I learned a bit more about the practicalities of paper giving. None of which are ground breaking revelations in the grand scheme of things, but they feel pretty important for me and right now I feel really good about them. And I think that is more than enough to get from the day.

On a related note, I really must give huge thanks to my good friend AB. Her honest constructive feedback after the session was very much appreciated. I think all nervous newbie paper-givers could do with a feedback goddess such as her!

The passing of a gentleman

Yesterday was the funeral of my partner's grandfather. I can't claim to have known him that well - he and I never quite figured out how to talk to each other and only really related through our love of a good game of scrabble. But his presence suffused the whole family. He was an almost constant presence at the family Saturday afternoon tea and whilst he was not always able to join in the conversation (or more likely often chose not to hear!), his very presence was the anchor of the whole family. He was a generous, thoughtful, caring man, who brought compassion, humour, a staunch heart and a seriously strong work ethic to everything he did. You can see his influence rippling through his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Their lovely natures are a direct tribute to him and his beloved wife.

So now I am sitting in a bar, waiting for my partner to return from delivering a training session today, and raising a glass in his honour. I won't claim that his passing marks the last of the true gentlemen - that would be both cliched and less than he deserved. But he is so very missed, even by those of us who only had the privilege of knowing him for a very short time. He was such a very special person.