Monthly Archives: June 2012

One lesbian against the Church

Today I am aghast that in 2012, there could be so many bigoted, fascists left in this world. I am not naive, in that I appreciate there are extremists and militant views left in the world. However, in a country with such a penchant for freedom and equal rights, how could there still be so many members of society left with such elitist, bigoted views.

I would like to point out that I do know there are many gay people who don’t want ‘gay marriage’ legalised, like the journalist Andrew Pierce:–Mr-Cameron.html 

and thats fine, but I do, and it’s my blog!

In the last couple of days the BBC news and many other stations have been debating whether or not it is ‘right’ to legalise gay marriage.

The Church of England has lashed out savagely at the government and homosexuals releasing a response to the home office consultation. See here: 

The Church starts out by saying that it can’t support the gay marriage proposals. Ok fine. Everyones allowed an opinion… even if it is a bigoted one.

They continue to say: “Marriage benefits society in many ways, not only by promoting mutuality and fidelity” Sorry last time I checked the definition of fidelity  was:


  1. Faithfulness to a person, cause, or belief, demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support.
  2. Sexual faithfulness to a spouse or partner.

I find it a little (when I say a little, I mean ALOT)  insulting that the church is brandishing all homosexuals incapable of fidelity. In fact I think considering 75% of marriages end in divorce, it isn’t ‘gay’ people who are incapable of fidelity.

The Church continues “material inequities between heterosexual and same-sex partnerships have now been satisfactorily addressed.

Now I am not sure who they have consulted or who exactly it is that has judged that inequalities have been address, because it sure as hell ain’t my or millions of other homosexuals views. I won’t start spouting feminist rants now, but women are still not equal in society plus it was only 1992 that the Church of England allowed women priests, women are still not allowed to be bishops (unless your in Massachusetts) and wages are still not equal etc etc.  So I am damn sure that ‘material inequalities’ have not been satisfactorily addressed.

Particularly because legally, civil partnerships DO NOT have the same legal status. I am not allowed to call my civil partnership a marriage, I am not allowed to call her my wife.

More to the point, I thought God was the only one who could ‘judge’.

They continue  “We also believe that imposing for essentially ideological reasons a new meaning on a term as familiar and fundamental as marriage would be deeply unwise.”  (as opposed to the ideological view of marriage with of a man and a women then?… hypocrites) how much more ideological do you want to get?

The Church says “Many, within the churches and beyond, dispute the right of any government to redefine an ages-old social institution in the way proposed.” 

It continues: “The consultation paper wrongly implies that there are two categories of marriage, ―civil‖ and ―religious‖….The assertion that ―religious marriage‖ will be unaffected by the proposals is therefore untrue,”

Firstly there is a difference. Otherwise anyone who wasn’t religious couldn’t get married.

Secondly, the state has for centuries, precisely since the Marriage Act 1753 decreed that non religious people can marry… LEGALLY. CofE might not like it but its true and it’s the law. Get over it!

If you can’t then devolve the church from the state, there are plenty of countries in the EU who have. BUT stop trying to deny humans, equal rights.

 The Church has also said in their consultation response: “Because we believe that the inherited understanding of marriage contributes a vast amount to the common good, our defence of that understanding is motivated by a concern for the good of all in society. “

I think you will find that I (a lesbian) am part of society thank you very much. It would do me the world of good if I could MARRY the women I love. Besides, as I have already pointed out 75% of marriages end in divorce, divorce has been scientifically proven to have a negative effect on children, so how much good can it really do?

Why would I want to get married then? You ask.

Whether or not I want it, really isn’t the point. I should be able to, this is about freedom and equality.

I have heard religious people on the news over the last couple of days say the following:

‘legalising gay marriage will make society and children suffer’

‘it will damage society’

‘But gay marriage, it says, is a step too far. Gay marriage, it says, would be “divisive” and “unwise”.’

I am beginning to use this phrase all too frequently, but serious are you on crack? Two loving parents irrelevant of gender is better than one single parent family or an abusive family unit.

SERIOUSLY being gay is not a choice. If there is a god then he made me this way, and I will stand proud on judgement day. Heck, the bible says that God made us in his image, WELL, wouldn’t that be a turn out for the books, not only could God be a women, but a lesbian; boy would I love to be there on some of the CofE’s judgement day’s to see their faces.

On a serious note, if there is a god, do you really think that he/she is full of hate, who hates anyone who aborts a rape baby, or a gay person, and sees those ‘sins’ as the same as the sins of a ‘pedophile’ I don’t think so. And if he does, then fuck it, I would rather be in hell.

I am not going to rant about the whole of the consultation response but on a last note. They write: “This distinctiveness and complementarity are seen most explicitly in the biological union of man and woman which potentially brings to the relationship the fruitfulness of procreation.

Haven’t they heard of a sperm bank…??!!

More 'In-Laws'


In any new relationship there is a vast array of people that you need to meet. You would think that after nearly 3 and a half years of being together that we would have met most of them. You would be wrong.

My family live across the world. The gf’s all live in the UK, but for various political reasons she hadn’t seen some of them for several years give or take a decade!

In amongst the piles of work I have to do, she announces that we are going to meet her aunt, who I have barely heard of because they were estranged for so long. Obviously this comes at a perfect point in time, the weekend before an assignment is due in, an assignment that I have obviously not been conscientious with and therefore a week before the deadline have managed to write a title and sourced a couple of journal articles. Which currently lay unread under a pile of to do lists somewhere in the house!

Anyway, after a miserable failed attempt at getting some of my assignment done and being distracted with the bookshelf that clearly needed tidying that instant; I found myself dragging my heels but being the good wife and bundling myself into the car to meet yet more in laws!


Obviously they had to live miles away just to exhaust me some more, we eventually found them after a small unplanned detour… *cough…got lost…cough* In fairness they do live in the back end of no where surrounded by trees and fields, it all looked the same to me!

We arrived… eventually, and I have to say, I am not the best with new people. I can’t stand small talk, I think I missed that life lesson completely!

Then there is the actual introduction, and it’s always painfully awkward.

Firstly, you never really know the etiquette for each house, do you take off your shoes to be polite and not drag mud through their house, or do you keep them on to save looking like you have rocked up and made yourself at home instantly?

I took them off because they were boots.

Then you have to actually say hello.

This is difficult, you weigh up the situation strategically in the brief seconds you have before they move in to say hi. Do you go in for a hug and a kiss with total strangers or do you do the British hand shake.

Not being particularly tactile, and because it’s the first time I met them I went for the handshake.


They went for the hug.


So I effectively jabbed the gf’s aunt in the stomach before I had even got through the door.

Great start.


Now they are pretty wealthy, and the house was pristine clinically clean. I do like a clean house, (I am house proud) but this was ridiculous. I was terrified of breathing to saving a hair or dust particle falling off my clothes and onto their carpets. Which might I add were so white I was blinded on first glance.

I am possibly the clumsiest person I know, so white carpets and me are a massive no no.

Then they brought out the orderves. Which obviously I felt obliged to eat.

I was just hoping and praying that there was a vegetarian option, because if they had been all meat, the carpet wouldn’t have stay white for long!

There was, there was hummus! *phew*

Petrified of spilling something, I inhaled my orderve slightly too fast, and turned a nice shade of purple trying not to choke or have a coughing fit.

To be fair to the day it went fairly smoothly. Surprisingly I only made one fuck up!

At dinner, which I was trying ever so hard to eat politely and carefully, I managed to gesture far too elaborately and knock a chunk of food on their white carpet. I mean seriously who has white carpet in the dinning room? You are asking for trouble!

It was about this point that I was secretly wishing they had a dog or something to come and hoover it up before anyone noticed. But obviously they didn’t, the house was far too clean for such a beast!

The dog I wished existed so it could have caught the food I managed to drop!!


Life Fail

I am somewhat, lets call it ‘snowed under’ at the moment.


With the wedding a mere couple of months away, a full time job, part-time Masters and therefore assignments literally suffocating me, I am dying. Mostly, dying metaphorically, but it feels real. Plus I swear I found a grey hair… or five.


Then theres the normal day to day things which take up an alarming amount of time when you have none; such as cooking, cleaning (and why is the house always messy when you have no time to clean, and more to the point why do you feel the need to clean it when you should be studying *screams procrastination* but if I know its procrastination why can’t I seem to stop tidying instead of studying?!). You have washing (clothes and myself!), feeding the cats, making lunch for work yada yada yada; you get the point, we all have to live.


Then when any normal human would have enough to do, my insanity kicks in and I decide to add various things that apparently I do

a) for shits and giggles


b) to turn myself grey even quicker

Like attempting to write my first novel, and trying to start up an amateur cake company and lose weight. What the F*** was I thinking, doing these things in my SPARE (ha) time .


AND obviously thats before I have a social life. Which I do enjoy.


or more importantly a relationship, with the future wife.


Basically I am failing in all aspects of life right now.


I fell off the side of the planet about 18 months ago


Drowned in to do lists months ago


Was lost to coffee addiction and exhaustion weeks ago


and finally popped my clogs and entered ‘hysteria’ this morning when I had to get up extra early to car share with a colleague, because obviously I can afford to lose another half hours sleep… why not…


It’s really not like the cats don’t wake me up on the hour every hour because they can’t decide whether or not they want to be in or out of the house, and without a cat flap, Sacha has to dutifully get out of bed to let them in an out at all hours of the morning! Whos idea was it to have pets anyway, idiot.


Whilst I am on this rant, why is it with weddings that you get through one to do list, and twenty more appear… literally? Ok not twenty, but more, definitely more!


We finished a to do list, and I must have been momentarily on crack to enjoy the fleeting pleasure that crossing off the last item gave me. Because in that instant the gf turned round and asked me to write another one for all the other things we have to do, the fucking thing was twice as long.


And with that, I felt the last shred of hope that was clinging desperately to my soul being ripped out mercilessly!

Conniption- My Secret Inner Hulk


Noun: A fit of rage or hysterics


I am literally the poster child for conniption, and angry lesbian!

As my dear friend likes to tell me on a regular basis.

I tend not to ‘do’ many emotions other than extremely angry or extremely happy.

This causes problems.

Mostly for other people, but occasionally for myself.

Particularly when people can’t handle me, and they make me feel like I need to moderate myself on their behalf. We don’t tend to stay acquainted for long.

Working in the public sector being a conniption is a massive problem.

People are often unsure how to take me, I am admittedly slightly unstable, (in a conniptiony type way- not mentally!) and they are never sure if I will react to something with a fit of rage, or a fit of hysterical laughter.

When someone has something important, or controversial to tell me I can see their unconscious wincing before they open their mouth… and then they brace themselves for whatever reaction they might get.

If I had more of a heart I’d feel bad about it. But I shan’t apologise for who I am, and if I missed a few emotional DNA strands along the whole birthing process well that ain’t really my fault is it?!

Thing is, usually I respond with red rage. This is normally a burst of momentary rage.

I would speak loudly.

(This is most important. I find it highly irritating that people always tell me that I shout at them.

I don’t

I am loud ALL THE TIME! Just because your little ears can’t handle any noise above a whisper, does not mean I am shouting)

I might spew some profanities at whomever had irritated me this time. This adds to their perception of me shouting.

I am not shouting. I am talking loudly, and….passionately.

And thats another thing. Why do people always take my passion for aggression?

I am loud, and passionate, therefore I MUST be aggressive?

AND WHY, why do they try to make out like its a bad thing, and make you feel bad for it?

Well I don’t, I am entirely proud of me, and won’t be made to feel bad about it.

Generally after an outburst of my inner hulk If you give me five minutes, I am over it.

They usually aren’t… for quite some time.

I don’t get this.

If people stopped getting offended all the time, we would all get on a lot better. People say offensive things to me all the time, you don’t see me crying over it.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” “sticks and stones”

For example, my manager recently told me:

” You really need to be a little bit less Sacha. Your personality is a risk to your reputation.”

I instantly felt my inner hulk smashing at my skin to get out.

Inner Hulk

I managed to contain my inner hulk.


However I did have several mental senarios run through my head – mostly of jumping across the desk and savagely punching him in the face, knocking a few teeth out and wiping the satisfied smirk smile off of their face.

I did none of them and contained myself, with great mental sacrifice.

After an hour long lecture from my manager about how I need to moderate myself, and how bad my personality is blah blah blah… As I left the scene of crime, my manager had the cheek to tell me not to get road rage on the way home.


Lesbians in the Wilderness…

Camping as a kid was fun right?? Because I am struggling to remember what it was that I enjoyed so much!

As a mid twenty…cough… headed for thirty.. cough something women, I am SLOWLY coming to face facts… I am getting old…er! I am sure theres some phrase people always say to you “your only as old as you feel.” I think it’s one of those phrases that’s meant to make you feel better.

Problem is, I can only remember old people saying it to me.

As soon as camping was suggested I had my eyebrow raised in trepidation!

I mean, this IS the UK we are talking about, I’m no meteorologist… but seriously think of the rain!

Obviously life got in the way, and the morning we needed to leave we had done zero packing… not a stitch, not a pair of socks, a pair of undies, Nothing. Nor had I got in the loft to get the tent out.

It didn’t start well!

Our loft has no stairs to get into it, so currently we have to perform some impressive acrobatics climbing up, and off of the wall, in order to haul ourselves into the loft, scratching and scraping myself along the way.

Panting, sweating, exhausted, battered and bruised already, I then managed to basically knock myself out, with the standard head crack on one of the loft beams.

Swearing profusely my mood instantly dropped another notch.

To add to the mix I managed to miss breakfast. I am not a morning person, which makes breakfast pretty important.

After several ridiculously girly screams at some 100 year old cobwebs; I was stuck making jerky movements every time I tried to open a box in fear of some tarantula….

(Please note that the UK doesn’t actually have indigenous tarantulas- however some of them garden spiders are big enough to qualify…in my opinion!)

…might crawl out of one of the many boxes in the loft.

Eventually I found the appropriate equipment. Obviously essential items, such as a camping stove were missing and we still had no camping food.

SO before we could leave we still needed to go out shopping. This was all a rather quiet affair, except for buying the first camping stove we could (discounted by 20%) thinking we had a good deal and then finding it cheaper in the next shop.

Obviously everything cost an actual arm and a leg too.

After buying and spending enough to buy a small flat we eventually set off.

Now despite having a satnav on my phone which has so far not failed me, we still managed to go the wrong way. I have never denied my spatial inabilities, however my girlfriend prides herself on always knowing exactly where she is and being able to find her way home. She basically has an internal satnav. Makes me sick!

Eventually we find the place and our friends. We went with a big group of friends so you can imagine the scene…

Cold, middle of a field in some undisclosed location in the UK, kids running around high on sugar (you forget when your a childless adult that children not only exist but are in all the places that you think of to go too that are fun. Not only that, but kids can smell the irritation a mile off… they could literally be on the other side of the field playing quietly… you rock up and BOOM, the little shits are actively seeking to ruin your camping trip by doing all things childlike right next to your tent.

One such incident, involved a group of kids playing ‘tag’ and using one of our cars as one of their bases and repeatedly slamming into the side of the car.

#rage built inside me

Anyway back to the scene several lesbian couples attempting to put up tents. Some do this better than others is a polite way of describing the carnage that unfolded!

I am pleased to inform you ours went up swiftly with no bickering… mostly because we had done it before!

Some time later the tents were up, dinner was cooked, several beers had been drunk, and the evening rolled by nicely.

Apart from the cold and the children obviously. Oh and my back started to seize up, thats the old age kicking in…

The evening drew to its natural end and off we all trotted to sleep. The the kind neighbours chose this point in time, the very moment my head hit the pillow to give their kids quad bikes to charge around the camp (mostly around our tent) with.

To make me just that little bit happier, they promptly whacked up their car sound system to give their kids manic quad biking a musical narration. Its was passed 11pm don’t you know, your not supposed to play loud music after 11. Does that make me sound old?

Eventually the music and quad biking stopped. At which point the heavens opened and poured all over our little campsite.

The thunder came next.

I managed some brief cat naps between the cracks of thunder. However once the rain started to drip through the roof of the tent it was pretty much down hill from there.

When I couldn’t take it any longer and needed to visit the ladies room at some disgusting hour of the morning. I awoke to find my suitcase (which was inside the inner tent (the bit we sleep in, and therefore should be dry) piss wet through. Alongside the suitcase being wet, it contained all my once dry clothes.

I opened the tent door to discover what could only be navigable by Noah’s Ark itself; A huge puddle in which floated my very expensive Ugg boots that your not supposed to get wet, all our food, camping equipment, chairs the lot.

Here endith the camping trip.

Shaking the GF awake, I discovered that everything on her side, including all her clothes was bone dry… (insert unimpressed faced)

Now we are home, with wet everything, including a tent that now needs drying out, and several bits of camping equipment which no doubt I will have to attempt to get in the loft that beats you up as you climb into it!

Thank god it’s a bank holiday tomorrow!