Since those days Girlguiding UK has been making efforts to modernise the system and the styles of leadership and achievement.  And since I’ve started Psychology and learnt how important positive influences at that age are on development it’s something I really wanted to get involved in.

It’s something that can fit to most people, from 12 hours a year, to one and a half hours every week of school term.  I do the latter, and I love it.  Through being a Young Leader I am gaining my Leadership Qualification (which used to be called a Warrant) and that means I can run a unit all by myself if I want to.  (A unit is the group of Guides, the equivalent of a Scout troop).

I love getting to know the girls, and seeing them achieve and be proud of themselves for their achievements.  I have seen girls who are older members of the unit go from disruptive and difficult to wonderfully helpful and very good role models to their younger counterparts with some frim but fair direction.  And it feels great to know that they look up to me and I can help them in some way to grow as people.  I feel that in hindsight I really missed that when I was that age, and it’s wonderful to be a positive role model myself to girls who are older and respected by younger Guides, but still young enough to not be sure where they are going in their lives, or their views.

If you have any spare time, it would be really great to volunteer some time to a cause you feel worthwhile, be it volunteering in a hospital or a school or with animals or anything!  It’s a great feeling to know you’re helping someone and making a difference to their life.

And that is essentially what this post is about.  I wonder if it’s just the scourge of those brought up in the middle classes that feel the need to impress; to show are homes at their best.  For instance, I spent 3 hours today cleaning.  It’s important to say, I suppose, that my home isn’t particularly dirty and I do clean regularly, but because family were coming over we went that bit further.  Taps are gleaming, mirrors are shining, carpets hoovered to within an inch of their lives, sheets changed, furniture polished, floors mopped (twice) and selves preened and made pretty.

I wonder where this strange antiquated ritual comes from.  It’s been passed down to me from my mother, who always made the house spotless if visiters were coming.  And I presume it was passed down to her from my grandmother, and to her from my great grandmother.  I suppose it spawns from the era(s) when a woman’s place was in the home and their homes where always expected to be as clean as possible.

So if this tradition prevails to this day, how do women with careers, families and a home manage?  How do they do it all?  Maybe that’s something I’ll find out in the days to come, but it’s something of a daunting thought!

Two boys aged 14 and 12, and an 8 year old girl called Boey.  Boey had cancer, and was in remission when they sent the application to ABC.  Their house was in incredibly bad disrepair, and was not a healthy environment for Boey.  ABC picked their family to remake their home, but 2 months before they arrived with the family Boey relapsed and had to start chemotherapy again.  In heart-wrenching interviews, Boey and her parents confessed how when she got the news she just begged and screamed to die, she was desperate not to go through with it again and to have to “survive”.

She was such a special little girl though.  In the hospital she would take her pocket money and buy soft toys for the other children to give to them as presents because she knew how horrible it was and how important it was to make them smile.  When they were shown their brand new home (which was beautiful) the little girl sobbed she was so happy.  Her brand new room was exactly how she wanted it – like a shop so she could play dress up and have mannequins to dress and put her wigs on.

The saddest part was that at the end of the show a message was displayed:

On the 28th of December, 2007

Boey lost her fight with cancer.

This show is dedicated to her

memory.

I cried when I saw that.  That’s a reaction some people may laugh at, but this little girl was so inspirational.  She was just desperate be free of cancer, and for people to find a cure.  She gave all she had to make other children happy.  She was only 8 years old, but in some ways probably far more mature than me.  She lost her childhood to a horrible disease, and eventually, her life.  That little girl inspired me to do better and to be a better person, and so for that reason, this post is dedicated to her too.

That picture is from a Newsweek article by Sharon Begley, who questions whether money really does buy happiness.  In short, the answer she arrives at is no – unless it brings someone from absolute poverty (e.g. homelessness).  Psychology studies show that when a cross-section of people from countries all over the world were asked to rate their happiness and satisfaction with their lives – 1 being “not at all” and 7 being “very” -  slum-dwellers of Calcutta (officially one rung above homeless people) rated themselves at 4.5, compared to 2.9 of homeless people.  That’s only one example, but these studies also showed things like someone earning £25,000 p.a. were much happier than someone earning £10,000 p.a., but someone earning millions was not much happier than someone earning approximately £100,000 p.a.

Why is that?  Well, according to Begley it’s because the more “stuff” you can buy with your vast amounts of money, the less satisfying each purchase is.  If you want the latest iPhone or gaming laptop and have to save a lot for it, your satisfaction when you buy is very high.  But if all you have to do is whip out the Mastercard, there’s isn’t the same sense of earning your reward.

Interesting.

As a student I am, typically, broke a lot of the time.  When I graduate I will have a student loan of about £10,000 to repay, but only once I reach a per annum salary of over £20,000 and the repayments are pretty low.  I currently have an interest free overdraft with a limit of £1500, that extends to £2000 in September, £914.26 of which I am using for the moment.

A lot of numbers I agree.  There’s lots of other numbers as well like tax payments, national insurance, tax money I’m due back from the Inland Revenue (our good old UK IRS), the rising prices of utilities, food and fuel.  More student related prices include the ridiculous amount we’re charged for textbooks (and we always seem to need 17 a year), the supplies we need, costs of printing, costs of our own blood, sweat and tears…

I some times wonder how the human mind ever evolved to juggle so many numbers all at once.  I can understand why so many people have breakdowns or worse over money.  It may not buy happiness, but it sure as hell helps.  My dad always taught me to be careful with money, and to always try to save whenever possible.  This is both a blessing and a curse, but mostly the former.  It means that while I do indulge myself, I don’t blithely spend money without a pause for thought.  Indulgences are normally (about 95% of the time) carefully balanced in to the budget.  But it does mean that when I’m in debt, as I am now, I can get a bit panicky about it.

With Inland Revenue payments, wages, and student loan income I’ll be getting over £1000 put into my account in the next 34 days (i.e. to September 30th).  Nice for me, but as a student, I will still be considerably into my overdraft because of my considerable outgoings.  Add a boyfriend and two cats into the mix and they get added to even more.

Now, surprisingly, I’m not throwing numbers at you for no reason.  I genuinely wonder how some students manage.  I am very lucky in that my parents are well enough off to help me out if I get seriously in debt.  I would hate to ask them, but it’s very nice to know that safety net is there.  To make my boyfriend and I sound even more spoilt my parents own the flat that we live in, and we don’t pay them rent because we’re both students (of course that will change when we get full-time employment).  But we do pay everything else.

But can you imagine what it would be like to live of Tesco Value produce, or beans, or having to choose between heating and eating?  According to the British government that’s a choice a lot of people will have to be making this winter.  Isn’t that nice?  It seems to be that so-called “fuel crisis”+”credit crunch” = various people starving and/or freezing.

Of course, media hype always make things seem worse, but when I look at my financial situation which isn’t even close to as bad as it could be, because I know I’ll be back in the black eventually I wonder how seriously skint students feel.  If I’m worried, how are they coping with the knowledge the won’t be eating this week because they have to pay their rent, or their share of the bills.  How do they choose between the textbooks people keep telling them they need, how do they afford prescriptions or dentist bills?  Do they?  I think it’s a bit of a worrying situation.

Perhaps we should all consider that next time we take the piss out of the “easy” life of students.

I must admit that it is a lot more interesting than the old programmes – we get drugs and raids and knife/gun crime in this one.  I just find it amusing how the script writers and narrators make videos which really aren’t hugely dramatic sound totally cutting edge, oh-my-god-can-you-believe-the-drama stylee!

Anyway, I’m moving away from that topic now, because it’s gotten boring.  I have another WordPress blog by the way, if you are interested, and there is a link to it in my blogroll.  It’s about me trying to lose weight, because I am.  I’m trying (initially) to lose 21lbs in 3 months.  Ideally I want to lose 2lbs a week, but I give myself a bit extra in case I need it.  But that story’s for my other blog.  I just wanted to tell you about it.

It’s been a long day, so I’m going to relax and drink a nice, cold Pepsi Max.  Yummy.

The picture is of one of my cats, Leelu.  Isn’t she cute?  I thought so too.  She was a kitten then and absolutely totsy.  Cute wee baby.  Aww.  I think pictures brighten up posts a bit, relieve the monotony so to speak.  (Of course, my blog would never be regarded in such a manner…….)

The song “Handlebars” by Flobots really is buzzing in my head.  They sing things like “I can tie a knot in a cherry stem”, “Me and my friend saw a platypus, me and my friend made a comic book”.  Just the “I can ride a bike with no handlebars” – what they are, essentially, doing is celebrating all the minor non-achievements of life.  Except, to them they are achievements.  And that’s what I like about it!  So what are mine?

1. I can tell you how to put a shelf up straight
2. I can make an amazing birthday cake
3. I know how to make my boyfriend laugh
4. I know how to make macaroni cheese, and the best macaroni cheese, that you’ll ever eat (that goes to the Flobots tune!)
5. I can play lots of songs on several instruments

That’s only a few, but I can do lots of things!  Even maintain a blog!  Woo…  I hope this will get more interesting for you as I go back to university and I am learning lots of interesting things to tell you about.

My parting gift to you?  A picture of a chocolate digestive, my favourite biscuit.

No, in truth I am naturally something of a mousy blonde.  The kind of colour no one aspires to be, and no dye exists that matches my natural hair colour – that’s because no one wants to be a “natural looking mousy blonde”.  Since the age of 11 I’ve been dying my hair mostly blonde, but also brunette and red.  Most recently, very red.  This leaves me with something of a dilemma given I now want to return to blonde.  The only solution is ……. bleach!  Proper bleach though – a powder and peroxide mix.

Last night, my boyfriend and I set out to bleach the red from my hair and return it to a colour to which I can add some nice dye, a honey blonde or so.  Only thing is, we ran out of peroxide mix.  And that meant my hair is much, much lighter, but not quite blonde… more – as my title suggests – ginger.  The coup de gras?  The pharmacy has run out of peroxide mix.  No more bleach for Katy!  Let’s hope Boots have some in store tomorrow morning or I shall remain a ginger for a much longer time.  Now wouldn’t that be invigorating?