'You may have tangible wealth untold; Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold. Richer than I you can never be - I had a Mother who read to me'

I've not written anything in an ages! I've been mulling over several different things to talk about... I have a whopper of a post brewing about feminism which I'll make a separate post for, and there are several things I'd just like to share that I love at the moment! It's probably incredibly sycophantic of me to make a post about 'things I love' but I just feel the need to spread some things and maybe introduce them to someone else (not that anyone who doesn't know me already will be reading this but never mind!)

First up I have been listening to a lady called Agnes Obel, she's Scandinavian so an instant winner, and her music is amazing, she plays the piano so bloody well and I literally can't stop listening to her. Another artist I've been listening to is Joe Banfi who is now called Banfi Music I think...

I found a poem called The Reading Mother by Strickland Gillilan, which is just so brilliant and I really love the idea of it, I shared it with my mum and it is so true, a mother who reads to you as a child is unlike anything else. I'm so lucky to have had such an incredible mama and I don't say enough how much I appreciate that she still looks after me even at the ripe ol age of almost 22.

In the poetry vein... I discovered a love letter which John Keats wrote to a woman called Fanny Brawne, he said:

My dearest Girl,

This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else — The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you against the unpromising morning of my Life — My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you — I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again — my Life seems to stop there — I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving—I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love — Your note came in just here — I cannot be happier away from you — ’T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion — I have shudder’d at it — I shudder no more. I could be martyr’d for my Religion — Love is my religion — I could die for that — I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet — You have ravish’d me away by a Power I cannot resist; and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often “to reason against the reasons of my Love.” I can do that no more — the pain would be too great — My Love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.

Yours for ever

John Keats

I can't over express how much I love these two lines, they are so beautiful:

- 'Love is my religion — I could die for that — I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet...'

- 'My Love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.' I think the fact that he died before they could be married makes it all the more heartbreaking...

An article from a little while ago was retweeted onto my feed and I loved it, I thought by the title that it was going to be similar to many other rather stereotypical articles that I've read with similar names. There are so many pieces written explaining things that women wish men knew... And they more often than not, tend to be sickable, this however is funny, charming, incredibly true, and not at all done in a way to seem attractive and mysterious. It is literally twelve things that women do but won't ever tell you. It is written by Caitlin Moran and it's very witty and entertaining so enjoy! '12 Things About Being A Woman That Women Won't Tell You.'

Tomorrow it will be five months to the day that I stopped eating meat so that's a happy celebration, and today I had a buttload of blood taken from my arm after the lady couldn't take any from my hand (to check my vitamins) so I'm feeling rather sorry for myself! It's pitteling down outside so I fully intend on not moving from my bed, eating pesto pasta and watching some crappy film or another!

I can only apologise for this self absorbed style post. I felt that I needed to post something and sharing a few of these things was what sprang to mind! If nothing else I hope you enjoy the things I have shared, and have the best month ever!

"I must've wished for you so hard and so often you had no choice but to come true.”

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, my twentieth birthday was almost a month ago already and one of my presents was a set of romance books. I don’t think I would say I was a fan of the romance genre in terms of books, and even films really, with the exception of Twilight and Love Actually. I can’t pretend I haven’t read Fifty Shades of Grey or Bared To You, as much as I’d like to, but sometimes a book comes along and makes you really think. So much so that when you go out on the bus you find yourself looking around wondering about the people surrounding you, are they in love? What are they like? What is their story? It makes you notice the significance of the film you’ve watched a hundred times but only just understand now; it makes you question your own life.

A week ago I began the Sex and the City box set from season one, I was only three episodes in when I came to ‘Bay of Married Pigs’, hilariously entitled it deals with being a single woman with married friends and the possibility that married women suddenly view you as a threat. You’re potentially younger, maybe prettier, and her man is eying you up and down. Anyone would be jealous. However maybe instead of being angry with her single friend, she should direct her rage towards her husband whose eyeballs are hanging out of his head. It occurs to me that there are an entirely different set of rules for men than there are for women, and romance literature supports this wholeheartedly. If a man checks out another woman the subject of his gawping is the one who is chastised. However if a woman dares to ogle at another man, she is met with a jealous possession that romance novels disguise as a man 'taking' his woman in a fit of passion. Not that I’d be complaining if a guy were to be that crazy about me that he’d turn all cave-man to stake his claim. I’m just pointing out that this is the case, and wondering why it’s that way…

Another sticking point for me is the inexplicable way that what a woman looks for in a man has changed dramatically between lets say Jane Austen’s time, and E.L James’s. Back in the good old days women found the idea of eloping with a penniless, but handsome and charming lothario in a whirlwind runway romance the most endearing and desirable fantasy. Since then novels such as Twilight, Fifty Shades of Grey, and the Crossfire series, have changed the way society views what women want in men. Now some may misconstrue women’s obsession with Mr Grey as being all about a secret desire for kinkier sex, however I think it runs deeper than that. To me it seems the allure of male characters such as these are more about the security of their wealth, their possessive nature that makes women feel desirable, and the fantasy that they could be the one woman in which the closed-off, brooding gorgeous millionaire mogul chooses to confide his deepest and darkest secrets to. The women of today, who despite being much more empowered than women were during Austen’s life, are in some ways no further forward in being taken seriously then they were in the turn of the century. In a society where abortion is a touchy subject, where sex trafficking is at an all time high, where women are forced to utilise their bodies and allure to make a living, and in which even successful women are forced to make sacrifices for their careers, it is not entirely shocking that women across the world are turning to fiction such as the Crossfire series and Fifty Shades to live out a utopian dream in which they feel fulfilled. The sad factor is that the root of their craving for these novels comes from their disappointment in men, they turn to a fictional land in which men behave the way they wish they would in reality. The trouble is these stories are far from reality and men like Gideon Cross, sadly, do not exist, and women will always be left bereft and unfulfilled in more way than one in their relationships.

It goes without saying that there are men in the world who make wonderful husbands, and are attentive and loving, and I envy the women who are lucky enough to snag one of the good ones, because the majority of us are left with snaggle-tooth boys who don’t know a tit from a clit. The point is that – at the risk of sounding sexist towards men – women are generally wishing that a rich, handsome, sex god will swoop into their lives, sweep them off their feet, and make them feel like a goddess, and instead find themselves watching Romeo and Juliet on repeat, munching on Thornton’s, and rapping along to a lame Drake song.

My prediction is that we’re just going to have to keep praying girls, in the hope that Mr Grey, or Gideon Cross will one day fall right into our laps. Until such a time, keep your chins up and your noses in a romance novel!

Laters baby…