These are a few of my favourite things!

Well, they're not, but they are a few of my favourite songs, as promised.

First, just the top 3 favourites:




There are a lot of covers of this song. Wikipedia tells me it's been covered by almost two hundred artists. Even Leonard Cohen has more than one version!

The only one that comes close to the original is Jeff Buckley's, which is quite possibly the most famous cover. I still much prefer Cohen's. 'Hallelujah' has 15 verses - most, if not all, versions only use some of them. My favourite, Cohen's original version from 1984, uses four and seems more reverential than later versions, which are more clearly love songs.

I feel a bit sorry for Leonard Cohen when it comes to this song. Most people associate it with Jeff Buckley - Cohen's version only really got much attention last December, when it charted, after the winner of X Factor, Alexandra Burke, recorded a version of it, as well. When she released her version, there was a push to get Jeff Buckley's version to number 1 in time for Christmas. It didn't happen - Alexandra Burke's reached number 1, Jeff Buckley's reached number 2. Leonard Cohen's reached number 36. 36! Come on! Why was there not a push to get his version to number 1? It's his song, people! It's his song, and he's still alive to appreciate it!

Anyway, moving on...



This is one of my absolute favourites and is tied with 'Hallelujah' for my favourite song of all time. I don't have much to say about it. I just love it.



Art Garfunkel gets a bit overshadowed by Paul Simon, doesn't he? I've heard Art's a bit of a dick, but that doesn't matter - this song is beautiful, and it's got nothing to do with Paul Simon. It's a bit creepy, this song. I don't know if that's related to the fact that it's impossible to entirely separate it from Watership Down, which is a very creepy film, or if it'd be creepy even without the link to the film. This is one of very few songs that I can listen to over and over again without getting sick of it. Again, I don't really have much to say about it. I just like it.

So, those are my top three.

And now, the runners up.

My two runners up are here because when I'm miserable and need something that makes me think 'it'll be okay', it's these songs I listen to. So, runners up are:





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In other news, I spent this weekend with my best friend, which was good. She's taken loads of my stuff home for me, the papers are signed and everything and I'll be leaving at the end of the month. We entertained ourselves by dressing like it was 1984 (see my profile picture), wearing a lot of glowsticks and dancing in my kitchen window. It's really easy to see in these windows from the houses across the...path, so we thought we'd entertain people while they did their washing up.

A sad state of affairs

I posted a link to http://www.givesmehope.com/ on my Facebook today. It's a lovely website - I actually cried reading some of the stories. One of my friends left a comment saying "pass me the sick bucket!"

Isn't that sad? We all laugh at sites like FML, we all like hearing about bad things that happen to other people, but we can't appreciate the good things? There are stories on GMH about little kids doing amazing things for charities, about people who were given a month to live and are still alive a decade later and all you can say is 'pass me the sick bucket'? Are we really that malicious that we can laugh at the awful things that happen to people, but we can't even smile when someone does something that means the world to someone else? I even like reading the little things, like the people who pay for the coffee for the person behind them. It makes me happy to know that there are kind people, and there are people who appreciate that kindness. It makes me happy to know that the world isn't all doom and gloom, and good things DO happen.

But it makes me angry to realise that there are people who are so opposed to being a little sentimental, people who can't even let other people have a little optimism once in a while.

On a more positive note, I'd like to share with you one of my favourite poems. I was going to do either 'favourite songs' or 'songs I'd like at my funeral' the other day, but I'll do that another time.

This is a well-known one, and you'll probably at least be familiar with the first line.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

-- Max Ehrmann

Oh, make me over...

Two people told me I looked like Courtney Love last night. I didn't even have any makeup on except a tiny bit of lipgloss. If it was 1991, I might've taken it a a compliment, but unfortunately it's not.

I had a guy come to view the flat today and it was quite possibly the most bizarre experience I've ever had in my life. I hope he takes it, though. If he doesn't, Frank says he will. I just need to figure out how to move all my stuff, now.

I'm thinking about home and all that that means and a place in the winter for Dignity

I'm going home.

I'd pretty much made the decision but when I emailed my landlord to tell them and ask them to confirm exactly how much rent I was paying over the summer, they emailed back and told me they'd jacked up the rent because I'm no longer a student. It never said anything about that in the contract. I'm going to look at the tenancy agreement and make sure it doesn't anything about it in there, then I'm going to seek help from Citizen's Advice and see if I'm allowed to break my contract because of it, because I'm sure this must be a breach of their side of the contract.

I will be devastated to leave Manchester, but it's not going anywhere and it's the only logical option at the moment. I miss home and I can't afford to stay here - it's just not feasible. I wonder if maybe it was silly of me to even try and escape. Maybe I should've done what everyone else on my estate did - have a couple of kids before they're 20 and get a job in a shop that will close down in two weeks, because that's what all the shops there are doing. The thing is, I don't think having a couple of kids and working in a shop would be that terrible, really.

Anyway, that's not what I came here today to write about. Because I now have a Sociology degree, I'm allowed to ramble on about class privilege and gender privilege and that's what I'm going to do.

I am wondering what it means to be female and to be working class. On one hand, these things can actually benefit me - there are bursaries, funding, scholarships that they give to people just for being female and working class. But does that make up for the things that I'm denied?

Of course, these days nobody in power is going to say I can't have or do something just because I'm female or working class, and that's why it's so easy for people who aren't female or working class to deny that they have any sort of privilege.

This kind of discrimination is the kind that slips in under the door. It's things that seem little - you get a job and all your male colleagues are going on a night out. You can't afford a taxi, so you have to walk home. But you can't walk home at night without having to be afraid. And if, God forbid, you did walk home alone at night and something happened, people would try and blame you for it for being stupid enough to do it in the first place. So you can't go on the night out, and because you can't join in when they socialise, work is awkward, simply because you're female and poor.

It's not being able to feel 100% safe and comfortable walking down the street at any time of day, and having to put up with comments, and having to be constantly conscious of where you go, and how you dress.

It's having to spend hours grooming in order to be 'presentable'. It's plucking your eyebrows and painting your nails and shaving your legs and armpits, and making sure you haven't got lipstick on your teeth. It's having to be up an hour earlier than the men at work to make sure you look appropriate.

It's constantly worrying about the length of your skirt and the height of your neckline, and it's constantly wondering if you got (or didn't get) that job because of your boobs, or how you look. It's constantly having to wonder if the men who do the same job as you are getting paid more.

It's being told by your male boss to wear smart and comfortable shoes to work because you're going to be on your feet all day and not being able to find smart shoes for women that you can comfortably spend 8 hours on your feet in and especially not for a decent price.

It's not getting the job because you couldn't afford to buy new smart clothes for the interview and your old ones are beyond repair or don't fit.

It's not even being able to afford to get to the interview.

It's not being able to join in their conversations about skiing holidays in the Alps, or their en suite bathrooms. It's them looking at you in horror when you tell them, fondly, about how you used to play next door and your mum would bang on the wall when it was time for ypu to come home, because no classy person lives in a house with a connecting wall like that.

It's people assuming that wealth and intelligence go hand in hand and thinking you're stupid as soon as they hear your accent or see your house. It's never being given a chance to prove yourself.

It's people with more money apologising for the way you grew up, even though you were perfectly happy growing up that way.

It's the day you can afford to buy some eggs and being made to feel guilty for not buying free range eggs, even though you can get 12 caged eggs for the price of 6 free range.

It's people assuming they know all about you (and it's all bad) because of where you're from and how you talk.

It's so many other things, but especially, it's being told by privileged people that privilege no longer exists, because they've never seen it.