What Else Should I Be? All Apologies.

Been a while since I blogged and lots has happened so rather than do separate ones I thought I would blog a kind of update.

Been living with The Lovely for 10 weeks now and I have been through some changes. New flat, new office, new beginnings. So many new experiences. Only thing that hasn't changed is essentially who I am.

I know it sounds like a cliche to say I have found myself but dagnammit I have. And I'm not sorry. And over the past weeks I have found myself not being sorry for a lot of things.

Here is a list of things I am not sorry for.

This list is not exhaustive.

Being angry about rape apology.

I spent days on the internet arguing with rape apologists over the whole Assange thing. I am disgusted by all of them and my Twitter block button went into overtime. At one point I had to PUT THE INTERNET DOWN and go and have a cuddle. I just couldn't understand those idiots who

a) couldn't separate Wikileaks (A Good Thing) with Assange himself (Man Who Needs To Face Trial For Rape In Sweden)

b) bought into the whole conspiracy theory thing about it being a plot to extradite him to the USA while totally ignoring the facts, the law and the point that it would be far easier to extradite him from here.

c) perpetuated the myths surrounding rape and sexual assault, made excuses and victim blamed for all they were worth and showed themselves up to be the misogynists they were. They disgusted me then and they disgust me now.

Like I say, my block button went into overdrive.

Peeing into a bottle in a tent.

After years of putting it off, and being put off by my ex (you'd never hack it, you wouldn't be able to straighten your hair) I went to my first music festival. Those of you who read of my adventures at Tolpuddle will be glad to hear that I learned my lessons and there was no Jaffa Cake disaster this time. I had the time of my life with the greatest bunch of people ever and ticked loads off my 'to do at a festival' list.

1. Wear a festival hat... It was big and black and I thank Kerry for lending it to me.
2. Have my face painted... I had a flower on my cheek. Thanks Fiona for drawing it.
3. Go to the front of a gig... I did so at Random Hand, a band who I had seen only 2 days earlier and it was brilliant. It also lead me to...
4. Go in a mosh pit... broke my favourite shades. Didn't give a shit.
5. Bought a tshirt off the band and wore it.
6. Danced barefoot in a field. To Greenday. 
7. Got really drunk and slept in a tent. Eventually. What with the 3am row about Religion v Abortion, and the guy in the tent next to me getting a very loud, very prolonged blow job, sleep was at a premium. Didn't give a shit.
8. Saw the Foo Fighters. With the best group of people ever. In shorts and wellies. 
9. Got festival flu so bad that it took me a week to recover. Had it killed me, it still would have been worth it.
10. Peed in a bottle in a tent. And didn't spill a drop. Yay me and my fabulous pelvic floor muscles!

So what else am I not sorry for?

Ah yes...

Dyeing my hair bright pink. 

I get really bad hair boredom. And these days I have the freedom to express it. In the past year I have had pink bits, purple bits, blue bits and green bits. I decided this week to go the whole hog. I now have all over pink hair. Got some strange looks. Didn't give a shit.

Saying that line at the TUC. 

I was a delegate to TUC this week. This is my third year attending and each year I have had a speech to make. This year about cuts to the Equality and Human Rights Commission. I spoke about David Cameron (disgusting specimen of a human being) and his policies killing 32 disabled people a week. Then I said that Ed Miliband would kill them slower and less deeply. There were some giggles, some gasps and some said I shouldn't have been allowed to say it. But I stand by it. Unless Labour stand up against all cuts and embrace the alternative that the unions have put forward then people will continue to die. Faster or slower, it's still dead. If you are interested, the video of my speech is here.

Laughing at Ed Balls.

Last year I shouted at Ed Miliband. I am even on Japanese web sites doing so. It was kind of expected by Twitter followers, Facebook friends and even some from my own union that I would shout at Ed Balls too. But I didn't want to be 'the shouty woman' for no reason. I didn't want to be the heckler who does so for the sake of it.

As it turned out I didn't shout at him at all. I laughed at him. When he started talking about how we had to trust in each other I laughed. When he said he and Milliband had stood side by side with the unions I laughed. And when he was dodging questions and saying he knew how we felt, I roared.

It was still spontaneous, it was still effective. It rattled him. Really rattled him. He lost his place in his speech and the moment he realised it wasn't going to be some sort of Union/Labour Party love in wank fest was a joy to behold. It is about time they realised that we won't sit still while they shit all over us. Sometimes just laughing in their faces is better than shouting. Though the heckles came, they weren't from me.

Got some REALLY dirty looks for it, and have probably put the kibosh on working for the TUC ever. Didn't give a shit.

Being happy.

Not sorry for this either. I have had the most incredible summer with more ups than downs and I am comfortable in my own skin and not scared of loving The Lovely. Happy is good. I should have tried it years ago.

Being me.

Main thing I'm not sorry for. Loving, loyal and kickass when needed. I am me. I will always be me. Whatever else changes, that won't.

And I'm not sorry.