13.5.15

Babies and Tories and Haircuts, oh my!

*This post is dedicated to Lexi, my brand new reader who's probably stopped reading already as it's taken me about a century to reply to her email. I hope she likes it. I think she likes babies, have no idea where her political allegiance lies, and am willing to bet she looks nothing like Sandi Toksvig. Enjoy, Lexi.* 


What a week (and a half - it's taken me a while to finish drafting this) for Britain, eh? First a Royal Baby, then an unexpected majority for the Conservatives. 


We'll start with that chubby-cheeked cutie, Princess Charlotte, and her lovely looking mum, shall we? 

I really don't understand the flack Kate gets for looking so good mere hours after giving birth. Yes, she had stylists and make up artists and hairdressers so she wasn't papped outside the Lindo Wing wearing stained trackie bottoms with greasy hair and that beautiful sweaty, haven't-slept-for-48-hours look. And so what? If I was about to be greeted by hundreds of photographers and knew I'd be adorning the front pages of the papers for the best part of a week, I'd probably stretch to a hairbrush and a bit of slap too. 

The poor girl can't win - if she'd looked 'normal' then she'd have got twice the flack and lots of those horrible red circles drawn around her in Heat magazine, accompanied by correspondingly nasty captions. 

I thought she looked bloody fantastic, and anyone who's nasty about that is just jealous that they don't have an army of employees to make them look as fabulous. My only 'eeesh' moment was when I saw the bottom half of her dress was white. I know she only had to walk out of the hospital and back in again, but it's a brave woman who wears white hours after pushing out a baby. 

But anyway - lovely baby, lovely name, all very cute. Well done, K Middy. 

Sadly, my job prevents me from waxing lyrical about my political leanings, so this portion of the post will probably be vague, and mostly redacted. 

Who'd have predicted/feared/dared to hope for a Tory majority? Well, Survation, apparently, they just didn't bother telling anyone. 

It was a fairly fraught pre-election week in our house, as I attempted to convince Matt to vote for the party of my choice with bribes of household chores, cooking and bedroom favours. He's an odd one, Matt - clearly mostly aligned to the policies of the [party what I vote for] but insists on voting for the opposite because he "just can't vote [aforementioned party]". Utter madness. But it's ok, his party is one of the number that didn't win, and I've got 5 years before GE20 to wear him down. 

But Matt's irrational voting behaviour is nowhere near as maddening to me as the people who don't vote. There are so many people in this world who don't live in a democracy, who don't get the chance to have any say in how their country is run or what happens to them and their families. I think it's criminal that people who have that liberty don't bother to use it. 

There's also no excuse for it. Being uninformed = being ignorant and lazy. Perhaps 30 years ago you could argue that you didn't know how to vote, didn't trust what the media reported. Hello, Internet! A swift Google and you can read party manifestos, commentary from any number of sources and standpoints, and take a range of independent quizzes designed to help you decide which way to vote. 

As for those who say their non-voting is a protest because they don't think any of the parties are worthwhile? Firstly I think they're probably just lazy and haven't bothered doing any research. But if you genuinely want to protest, go along and spoil your ballot paper. Vote for everyone, scribble obscenities on your ballot paper, draw a unicorn. I don't care, but at least show up. Not turning up doesn't send a message, other than the message that you're lazy. 

My dad told me that his new girlfriend didn't vote because she couldn't be bothered. I'm really trying not to hold that against her, but so far it's not working. Even though she did give me some lovely baby vests as a pressie. 

So, despite the non-voters, the irrational voters and the polls, Mr Cameron is back at Number 10. One of us is very happy that our baby will be born under a Conservative government. And is already trying to convince the other that 'David' and 'Cameron' are lovely-sounding middle names if the baby's a boy. 

I'm off to get my hair done tonight, as the greys on my head seem to be making a bid for follicular domination. I'm going in with zero expectations about what it'll look like, as I've had far too many 'look in the mirror and cry' reveal moments. I'm also not taking in any pictures of what I want it to look like - I  feel self conscious taking in pics, like the stylist might be stifling a laugh at the poor, delusional girl that thinks they'll be able to work some hocus-pocus with scissors and a bit of dye and turn her into Reese Witherspoon. Taking pictures in - that way disappointment lies. It NEVER comes out like it - do they deliberately look at your photo of Jennifer Anniston and turn you into Sandi Toksvig 'for a laugh'? Probably. Maybe I'll call their bluff, come in with a photo of Sandi and hope I can reverse-psychology them into making me into a supermodel. 

I'll be back at some point with an update. And probably a photo of a Sandi T-a-like. 

I should probably mention at this point that I think Sandi Toksvig is awesome, and I'm sure I've broken some sort of world record for the blog post with the most Sandi Toksvig references ever. Sandi Toksvig -  fun to type, fun to say. 


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