I got to thinking about how tense the English have become. Pinched, as my dad would say. I’ve gotten to know so many vague foreigners (by vague I mean English speaking lovelies from afar…Namely Ireland and America) and this has made me notice that the stiff upper lip of England that I am so proud of has been replaced by an array of excruciatingly tightened sphincters. We sit and pay enormous amounts of money for food that we would not choose over bangers and mash or a good shepherd’s pie. We pretend to like music, we pretend to like films, books, news items, jobs, people…so much so, that we are tightened by the day to day full time occupation of being English. It must get very tiring for those who can be bothered to keep up appearances. Today got me really thinking…what are appearances? Especially eating frois grais (however the bloody hell you spell it), sucking wine through your teeth, not trimming your ear hair because it makes you look…I dunno, profound? Intelligent? There will probably come a time when I will take out my nose ring, will consider money for printer ink to be more important than money for festival tickets, or restringing my ukulele and will actually have to care what people think of me. It’s a shame. Tainted by the norm that we have created for ourselves. Like when raindrops fail at tracing their own routes on windowpanes. They just slide innocently into an already trodden route