The Bus of Dreams...

306. The bus of dreams.

Always on time, forever reliable.

I joke.

Never on time. Late again.

It’s just another manic Monday.

School kids chatter, commuters over hear;

“The rave is going to be mental!”

“Who’s coming to your Halloween party?”

Cringe.

All the while the wheels on the bus go round and round.

Whats App. Commuters’ banter.

Read.                                 

Snap Chat morning selfie, just for fun.

Daily chin wag.

Attempts to stay sane.

I am a commuter, and this is my tale

Aboard the 306

Forever and always, the bus of dreams.

An ode to Han and Amy...

Before I start this post I will just like to inform you that I am currently sun bathing on Italy.

So a mere four days ago our number decreased to just two as Han and Amy went home.  Leaving Jess and I to venture on for another 10 days as we make our way down to Croatia. You see, Jess and I like to think we are experienced travellers and we can do this with our eyes closed... Oh boy where we wrong.  The minute we departed ways and became a twosome everything went wrong.  So here is my ode to Han and Amy for making the first 10 days a pretty smooth operation. Here is what has gone wrong without them:

1) We had to change route as we wanted to avoid protesting in Sofia so we went West instead of East from Budapest.
2) We manged to book the worst hostel ever in Bratislava.  It did not have a sign so we spent an hour looking for it. There was no one there to check us in or out. And our room hadn't been cleaned.
3) When trying to get to the old town we got the wrong bus and ended up further out of town so had to go into the Hilton Hotel to ask for directions and ended up spending lots on a taxi.
4) We got to Vienna with the intention on leaving that evening on a night train. The night train was booked. We were stranded.  Though we managed to find a nice hostel to stay in and then had to get a train and a bus the next day.
5) The hostel in Venice didn't respond to our email regarding transfer. So they made us wait an hour before they picked us up. In a thunder storm. Best moment of my life.


So as you can see a lot of things have not gone to plan. And we find the best way to deal with it is to laugh and grin and bear it - it is all rather funny. From this experience we have learnt that planning is over rated.  Live in the moment and go with the flow.

Love EuroRuch xxx

P.S. I forgot to add that I sat in chewing gum at Bratislava station and got it all over shorts. Sexy.

What not to do when inter-railing...

As it is our last day as a foursome (Han and Amy head home and Jess and I make our way down to Croatia) I thought I would blog - though I am mainly
blogging because we are a tad to hungover to move. This post is on what not to do when inter-railing.

1) Send an 'I love Berlin' postcard from the Aushwitz post office.
2) Insist you have lost your bumbag with all your money init but then find it in your bag the third time you search through it.
3) Leave your pyjamas in Prague.
4) Leave your inter-rail pass on the train.
5) Ask what is veggie on the menu - the waiter will just suggest: fish, chicken, apple pie and fish.
6) Trying to use the Birth of the Royal Baby as a legit reason that you deserve a discount.
7) Eat paneer in Prague.
8) Get on the tram before working out what direction you want to go in.
9) Spend all your change so you have to beg in the metro station.
10) Include Sofia in your route.  They will start protesting and you will have to find an alternative way to get to Croatia.
11) Do shisha with some Norwigeon men and end up puking in the streets of Budapest.

Unfortunately all of these things have happened to us. They may not be ideal situations but they have been entertaining.

Love EuroRuch xxx

How not to use the metro in Prague...

If you don't know me, I am often one to burst in to song. I can't sing. Sometimes I sing original songs about what I am doing at the moment, such as looking for olives in the supermarket.  I like to think I am the star of a musical. So in Prague I founded The Song For All Occasions: Take Two. I am going to share a bit of it with you before sharing the oh so classy meaning behind it.

It is to the tune of the Conga and inspired by the Train Line Advert.

It goes:

Choo choo  choo
Begging on the Train Line
Choo choo choo give me a Corona

If you haven't guessed I ended up begging on the metro in Prague.

We were on our way to the main station to get our first night trian. We pooled all our change together.  We were 1 ckr short. What do you do? As head of logistics it was my duty to make sure we had the money.  And I failed. It was  time to right my wrong...
Instead of choosing the lets go break a note by buying crisps amd getting change method,  I choose the begging approach.

I scooped out the potential targets.  First I asked 2 girls. They rejected my desperate plea. Then I chose a nice man. He looked friendly. He didn't understand my need, as instead of asking for 1 ckr I was asking for 1 corona.  Alchoalhic.  After some more sweet talking he gave the crazy tourist with a massive backpack some money and we were able to buy our ticket and get the night train to Krakow! Logistical success right there.

Short girl problems and the effects they have on your inter-rail experience...

If you haven't gathered from the title of this post I am what I like to call a short girl.  If you don't know what this means, let me explain - I am a girl and I stand a mere 5.1 feet from the ground, thus I am a short girl. Being short has its benefits,  such as when it rains you are the last to get wet so have more time to run for cover. However we short girls also suffer from what I like to call short girl problems. Whilst inter-railing I have experienced some of these problems - which if you haven't guessed already, I am going to share with you along with some solutions I have thought of...

1) You can't put your bag on the over head baggage shelf as it is too high.

2) You can't get your bag down from the over head baggage shelf.

3) Your feet don't reach the floor when you use the loo on the train as the loo is too high off the floor.

4) It is a struggle to get on to the top bunk when there is no ladder.

5) Your short legs can't walk as quick as your leggy friends and you often fall behind.

6) When standing,  your friends who are all sitting on bar stools are still taller than you - they get to sit, you have to stand, where is the justice in that?

7) You have to stand on your tip toes when ordering food from fast food / alcohol joints.

So as you can see being short is rather problematic, but never fear as here are some solutions I have devised to help other short girls  out there.




1) Carry a step-ladder with you every where you go.
2) Ask a nice tall man, preferably one with a beautiful accent, to help you.
3) Get over it.

I hope my solutions are of use to others suffering short girl problems.

That is all for now as we are pulling into Prague...

Love EuroRuch xxx

How not to socialise in Berlin...

One of the things I love about travelling is that you get to meet people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe. As someone who is not shy and rather loud, I like to think I do this well. Last night we went to the open air  cinema in Berlin (Freiluftkino Kreuzberg - I recommend you all go) to watch The Beasts of the Southern Wild. It was the most amazing thing ever.  Anyway after that, we went to the ' Electro-beats' night at our hostel bar... Here we started a game of pool (nb: not snooker) - Tom and I vs Tomford and Jess. I perfected the skill of not hitting the ball. Some Aussies and a South African man came to give me tips and be my
very own cheer squad. I soon improved and managed to get two balls in a row. So as you can imagine we spent the evening with these lovely people playing pool and drinking beer - what a hoot. So here is a list of things to not do when playing pool and drinking beer with fellow travellers:

1) Don't tell an Aussie you love Neighbours and think it is the best show ever.

2) Don't decide you can't be friends with a girl you just met based on the fact that they don't like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings - then inform her of this.

3) Don't turn your 'Desi Diva' on when your team mate tells you they don't want you to take the most vital shot of the game and then react by taking your shot and hitting the security guard with the cue which you then throw on the floor instead of passing it to the next player like a kind lovely person.

4) Don't get drunk and then scare your new friend by getting tongue-tied and instead of saying 'we have similar personality traits in regards to that' you say 'you're my type of guy...'

I hope my adventures are some what of an interest to you.

Peace out

EuroRuch xxx

#geographersontour

So I know I haven't blogged in forever as I have been busy enjoying the sun and what not. However, I am now in Berlin - day 2 of 3 weeks interailing through Eastern Europe. And so I was thinking my blog will temporarily become a travel blog, documenting the things I do and the things I learn about life on my glorious European Adventure...

This post is entitled '#geographers on tour' for 2 simple reasons. 1) I dislike #ing on any other media form but twitter...this is my attempt at irony. 2) We are geographers and we are on a tour of Europe.
A nice and simple explanation by a simpleton.


So during my first day this is what I have learnt about travelling/life/stuff:
1) Prudent packing can be achieved by those with a terrible case of over-packing syndrome.
2) Early morning flights are not fun,  regardless of how much cheaper they may be.
3) I am thankful that my skin tolerates the sun to a significant amount.  4) Bike tours are always more fun than walking ones - just imagine all the fun you can have riding a bike through a European city and singing songs from The Sound of Music -a hybrid of Victoria Pendleton and Maria can be achieved.

Here is just a selection of important life lessons I have learnt during the short time I have been on the continent. Make sure you keep a look out for my future blog posts to find out what is going down in Europe!

Love EuroRuch xx

Amy Lockwood: Earplugs are  gods gift to the world.
Hannah White: Beers should only be drunk in litres!

Coca-Cola: Resurfacing the feelings of exclusion and upset…

I made my own named coke bottle! 

Coca-Cola has branded their bottles with the 150, which apparently is now 250, most popular names in Great Britain. I am sure all the Johns, Sarahs, Gurpreets, Emmanuels, etc out there are having a swell time looking for the bottle with their name on it. Sounds so fun! For me it is not so fun – there isn’t a bottle with my name on it.

For people like me, who have only ever personally come across one other person in their whole 21 years of living with the same name as them, it just causes us to re-experience the feelings of exclusion and upset we had as a child. I was always so jealous of all my friends with their personalised mug or key-ring; they could all find countless products with their name on it. My cousin Tash even had a black headband with her name on it that she wore every day for ages. I didn’t have one. Social exclusion much? These feelings of exclusion and upset have resurfaced by Coca-Cola’s new marketing campaign. They are just not considerate of people with unique names. I can’t search the shelves for hours on end to find a bottle with my name on it like Harry, Amy, Amandeep and Kofi can. I just have to drink a bottle with any old name on it.

There has only ever been one other time in my life were I have found a ready-made product with my name on it. It was a bracelet. I found it at a jewellery stall at Chokhi Dhani (family translation: Crazy Village), Jaipur, Rajasthan, India. I made my dad buy it for me. I was 20. It made me so happy. It filled that gap in my heart from my childhood. I wore it every day, until I lost it. It was a sad day, I had so much love for that bracelet. Perfect example of why people like me have so much more appreciation to give to a coke bottle than Josh, Ben and Rachel have.

So yeah, I don’t like Coca-Cola’s new marketing campaign. But will I change my name? No. Because, although 9/10 people can’t say my name properly and it isn’t on a coke bottle, it is unique. I don’t need the first letter of my surname said after my name so I know people are talking to me (I believe I went to school with a Robyn O). I don’t even need the ‘ita’ in my name. I like to think that I am like Beyoncé and Adele – I don’t need a surname to define me. 

Why I can now see Thestrals: An Ode to my Ba…

So, I haven’t actually blogged since I have moved home due to going on Brownie Pack Holiday and what not. My next post was going to be titled ‘The Train Journey to  my Future…’ as I started to write it on my train ride out of the small university town of Aberystwyth, my home for the past three years, and back into the ‘real world’ located inside the M25. Unfortunately, I fell asleep half way through writing the post and it is no longer relevant as a lot has happened since then.

So, instead I am going to write about why I can now see thestrals. Thestrals, for all those who are not fans of Harry Potter, are magical creatures that are invisible to everyone except those who have seen death. I can now see them.

At the start of this month, my Ba (grandma) passed away whilst watching Star Plus (the Indian channel) in my living room. My parents, little sister and I were all present; we can now all see thestrals. It was a traumatic experience. Something that is still quite hard to believe at times, even after seeing her body in the hospital, dressing her in that lovely purple sari and feeling the heat of the furnace on my face before the coffin went in at the crematorium. These are all experiences that people simultaneously don’t want to deal with but probably will at some time in their life.

People say that Ba is in a better place now, which in one way I agree as she is no longer suffering and passed away before things got even worse for her. But on the other hand, I am quite sceptical about the after-life. So where Ba is or is not now will always remain a mystery.

Enough philosophical stuff, because for those who know me, know that I think philosophical stuff only belongs in a healthy but heated debate. So, instead I am going to share some of the wonderful things about Ba – some of which may have been taken from the speech her grandchildren gave at the funeral but I wrote the speech so it isn’t stealing.

Ba was a kind and caring lady, she always put everyone before herself and nothing made her happier than making a home for her family, known as ‘Mota Ghar’ (Direct translation: big house. Shah family translation: the main house of the family). My favourite part of ‘Mota Ghar’ was her ‘Nasta Cupborad’ (snack cupboard) stocked full of ghatiya, chivda, suva dana (various types of Indian snacks) and my personal favourite ‘Ba Biscuits.’ If you had the pleasure to taste them, count yourself lucky.

Ba was also praised on her ability to provide food; some favourites included her homemade popcorn and endless platters of sliced and diced fruit. I will always remember one morning whilst I was staying at ‘Mota Ghar’ in the holidays when Ba told me that we would have spaghetti for dinner. I was looking forward to it as it was a change from the regular dal, bhat, shak, rotli. Dinner time came. I went downstairs and sat at the table. Ba dished up. What did she give me? Spaghetti and dal (lentils)! Not a winning combination. I ate it, though, because if you didn’t finish your food Ba would say ‘matha ma bhushi nakish’ (I will rub it in to your head).  

These memories of Ba I have shared with you seem to have a common theme, food. I love food, so did Ba. And I have most definitely inherited her sweet tooth.

I will finish by sharing with you the most important life lesson I learnt from Ba: ‘Cereal is not just for breakfast!’

The Start of Something New…

So I wrote half of this post before my laptop decided to randomly turn off, which is rather annoying as I now have to start from the beginning…Which according to Julie Andrews is ‘a very good place to start…’

So I have finished University. Farewell institutionalised education. I will miss you. Not. Hello being a ‘Lady of Leisure’ – or as my friend called me early a ‘lazy slob’ – she hasn’t finished yet, she is clearly just ‘well jel.’

So I am truly a ‘Lady of Leisure’ for the first time in 17 years…I can partake in activities without that constant thought at the back of head - ‘Do I really want to do this? Will it affect my day in the Library tomorrow?’ I am FREE. I have looked forward to this day for many a time and I am glad that it is finally here. No more stress, deadlines, essays, you name it and I don’t have to do it (only educational related stuff mind).

So what does being a ‘Lady of Leisure’ entail?  Well, where do I star? Mid-morning al fresco milkshakes, sunbathing on the beach, cheeky lunch and Pimms at the pub, buying clothes, more beach times – with ice cream this time round, followed off by a lovely Sunday evening out on the town (which I should be getting ready for – the glitter is coming out. Aber are you ready for us?!). SO MUCH FUN…Despite all the fun I will be having, I know that by this time next week I will miss the routine and structured life…

So what am I going to do now? I am not the career orientated kind of girl. How do I know what I want to be doing in 20 years’ time? I am only 21. Don’t get me wrong, I am an ambitious person, it’s just that I want to be defined by my job. I want to travel, see the world, experience life, write a book, and have my own radio show. I will be happy as long as I have enough money to meet my needs. It is time to live in the present and not care about the future. I mean I will get there at some point.

Baring this in mind, I have entitled this post ‘The Start of Something New’ (inspired by High School Musical), because I feel it is reflective of the stage of my life I am at. I have finished a chapter of my life, and am about to start a new one…Hopefully, one that is just as good as the one I am closing (though I hope not as stressful!). It is the time to meet new people, see new places, and have new experiences. Embrace the present. Live my life. Love my life.

So here is my life advice I have for people who are in the same position as me, and are ending a chapter and starting a new unknown one:

‘Why think about the future when you can live in the present?’ 

– Ruchita Shah, Motivational and Life Speaker.

A Day of Lasts…

It is 14.39 on the 16^th of May 2013. I am currently sat in the Law Library of Hugh Owen Library, Aberystwyth University, having just finished my essay plans for my exam tomorrow, I have decided to blog instead of memorising them. This time tomorrow I will be 39 minutes (well 40 now) into my last ever exam. A somewhat liberating, yet depressing thought. Like I have said in a previous post, I am looking forward to leaving institutionalised education. Yet, really this is all I have known. From the age of 4 to 18, I woke up every day and went to school. From 18 to 21, I woke up most days and went to the library/lectures (NB: the use of the word ‘most’, some days in first year I was a tad to hungover to get out of bed…). My life had a structure and to be honest I liked it. Don’t get me wrong, I am very much looking forward to leaving the education system, but I know deep down a part of me (a very small part, maybe a part the size of an m&m – chocolate filled because the peanut ones are slightly bigger) wants to stay in it forever.

So, why am I blogging now instead of revising? Because I had a cheeky cry in cwtch earlier (the Student Union). I unexpectedly ran into my friend Georgia (from my last post), who was celebrating finishing her last exam. I could smell the alcohol on her. It was only about 12.30pm… I was happy to see her, but it bought back all those emotions and sentimental feelings I experienced that night on the prom. And anyway, we had an emotional farewell hug, and it made me cry. It was the second time I cried all year excluding crying whilst watching movies and reading books (the first time was on Monday when I cried on my friend Amy after getting back an essay mark – lame I know). During my Uni time, I have become less of an emotional person than what I was at school. Now I just think why cry? Just get over it, get a grip on life. And now here I am having cried twice in four days…What is wrong with me?

Well I guess all these unwanted emotions are down to the fact that I am approaching the end of an era. And I am one who does’t like change, so maybe I am just scared of what is coming next? Anyway, I made a list (because that is definitely what I seem to be doing a lot of) of the ‘lasts’ I am going to experience today.

NB: They are in different tenses, because some have already happened, some are happening right now, and some will happen before the end of the day.

1. I got the bus to campus for the last time (lazy I know!).
2. It is my last day in the library.
3. I have the last ever can of Red Bull I will drink next to me waiting to be opened when things get dire.
4. I had lunch in Cwtch (the Student Union) for the last time – endless entertainment can be had when your name rhymes with Cwtch – ‘Do you want to have lunch with Ruch in Cwtch?’ – it was funny when all we lived, breathed and slept was dissertation.
5. I bought my last meal deal from the Union shop – my favourite sandwich wasn’t there so I went for the ‘hey pesto’ sandwich. It was a mind boggling sandwich, I didn’t know if I was eating a sandwich or a pizza.
6. I bought a Starbucks from the Union bar for the last time – they have lost their most loyal customer. I only bought one every day because it reminded me of the greater life outside of Aber, and maybe a little bit because I needed the caffeine.
7. Today is my last day without Facebook (this is so lame). My sister Avani (author of the blog Away with the Mice – linked at the top of the page – have a read) changed my password so couldn’t go on.
8. This is the last time I revise for an undergrad exam, as long as I don’t fail the year.
9. Tonight will be the last time I go to bed stressing about an exam the next day.
10. And this is the last time I blog as a method procrastination from revision. 

So, as you can see that today, is the last time I do a lot of things. And for someone who doesn’t like change, it is very hard to deal with.

If I was to give advice to someone experiencing the same emotions and sentiments I am, I would probably tell them to ‘Get a grip of yourself and embrace the future.’

So that is what I going to do, though I may have to have a little cry as I leave Hugh Owen Library for the last time. It has been like my second home. Crying is unavoidable.

Insightful Ending: I don’t have anything insightful to say today, mainly because I have just realised that I should probably get back to revision…Wish me luck!

Standing in the rain looking out across the sea and thinking. I am living the clichéd life…

I wasn’t meant to blog again until after my exam on Friday, but blogging is so much more fun than how feminist social movements strategically use public space (which is actually really interesting). 

I was walking home via the sea front after a cheeky revision risotto with my friend Georgia. I was sentimental after realising that I will not see Georgia again until grad week 2 months way. No more Fajita Fridays, no more swimming and sauna sessions and no more running dates (I think we went three times before giving up! Achievement much?).   It was raining. I was wearing my raincoat, hood up (can’t remember the last time I looked so hot). I decided it would be a good idea to stand there on the prom for 40 minutes, in the rain, in my raincoat, and look across the Irish Sea to the horizon (unfortunately, I could not see Ireland) and get lost in my own deep thoughts.

My intense thinking session and me time, led me to discover some realisations about my time left at Uni, this is what I realised:

1)    Tomorrow will be my penultimate day in the library; pretty much spent every day there over the last year.

2)      Tomorrow will also be the penultimate time I buy a Starbucks from the Union for my afternoon caffeine fix. (Red haired Starbucks guy from today this is me mentioning you, now read my blog, it will change your life).

3)      It will no longer be acceptable to go to the Spar in my pink Cheshire Cat like thermal pyjamas when I am back home.

4)      Cheesecake will no longer be an acceptable dinner.

5)      And lastly, and most sadly, I won’t see my friends nearly every day. I won’t be able to pop around their house in my pyjamas. We won’t be able to get drunk and get the groove on in the two most fabulous night clubs ever.

NB: Imagine me walking through town in my PJs looking like Cheshire Cat. Creaser. (Shropshire lingo for something that is funny – you learn so much at Uni).

I basically realised that my life at Uni is actually going to end really soon. So what had I really learnt after three years (non-geography related). After some more standing in the rain and getting wet, I decided the following are some of the valuable life lessons I have learnt during my three years:

1)     Don’t care what people think about you. If they don’t like you it is their problem not yours. I used to pretend to live by this in school, but I really didn’t due to certain individuals. But now I really don’t just care. Yeah, I am the crazy girl who talks too loudly and constantly says the wrong thing at the wrong time. Who cares? Not me.

2)      Allow (urban for forget) patronising people and people who act like they are better than everyone else. If someone gets kicks out of belittling others, they are not worth your time of day/night/energy. Put them in their place. Tell them to put a sock in it.  

3)      Everyone should be nicer to each other. Banter is just being used as an excuse to get away with saying outrageous things. I am the first admit that I have fallen into this trap, and am constantly being mean to my friend Tomford, in the name of banter.  Why has this become the norm in friendship? Why can’t we just hold hands and skip? Bake cakes, play with rainbows or pretend to be fairies?

There are probably more life lessons I have learnt, I just haven’t discovered them yet. Maybe I will discover them when I am out in the big bad world.

Insightful finish: Everything is geography and geography is everything.

(The font I have used for this post is called 'Georgia' in honour of my awesome friend). 

What do I know about life?

Disclaimer: Apologies for the poor spelling, I am slightly dyslexic.

The name of this blog ‘Life According to Ruch’ came about whilst having a cheeky bevvy in an Irish pub with my lecturers in Midtown Manhattan in March 2012 (we were on a field trip). I asked a lecturer what he thought I was doing my dissertation on (what a fun game). His response, though I can’t remember the oh so wonderful title he guessed, was something along the lines of ‘Life according to Ruch’ with a bit of feminism and something else thrown in for good measure. He inspired me that day; the light bulb went off in my head, even in my somewhat intoxicated state. ‘Life according to Ruch’ stuck with me from then on. There was something about it that just caught my attention. It was a catchy title; it had success written all over it. And, now I have finally found a way to create it. Though originally (this was yesterday) I thought it would be a book, I thought a blog would be more suited for starting off with. This way, if no one reads it doesn't really matter. And anyway does anyone really care what I have to say about life? 

So, I decided to create this little idea yesterday whilst in the library as a form of procrastination. If ‘Life According to Ruch’ would be a book this would have been the first paragraph:

 ‘At this present moment in time, at 11.58pm on the 12^th of May 2013, I am sat in the Law Library of Hugh Owen Library at Aberystwyth University. Me writing this is a form of procrastination from revising for my last ever exam for my undergraduate degree. The module is called Territory, Knowledge and Power, though I think it should be called ‘A Homage to Foucault’ – because that is exactly what it is. So instead of reading about US state borders, I am going to compile a list of the top five things that annoy me passionately and things that don’t, so you can gain a general understanding of the type of person I am…’

What a beautiful start to what would have been a best-selling book. Instead of stating things that annoy me and things that don’t, I am going to start by listing the things that I know about life.

What I know about life:

1)     I am 21 (22 in 6 months and 6 days).

2)      On Friday 17^th May 2013, I have my last exam of my undergrad degree.

3)      I will hopefully graduate with a BA in Human Geography in July.

4)      I have no job/grad scheme/internship lined up for when I graduate.

5)      I will be moving back in with my parents, little sister and grandma.

6)      I spent three years doing a degree because I wanted to and not because it would make me more employable.

7)      I don’t know what I want to do as a career. Do I need a career?

8)      I have been in the education system since I was four, I will hopefully be leaving it in July. I am looking forward to this for two reasons:

i)                    I have had enough of institutionalised education.

ii)                   I look forward to learning through living my life.

9)      I want to travel. Now is the time as I have no one depending on me.

10)   I currently have the best life ambition ever: to travel to Fiji and stand with one foot on either side of the International Date Line, so I can be in two different days at the same time.

As you can see, I have my life all mapped at for me and will be on 40k within 5 years and own a lovely house in West London with my big shot city lawyer husband and our two children by the time I am 35.

I kid. My current life plan extends to 14^th of August when I return from three weeks of inter-railing (mind I have nothing to do in June). Thus, I have decided to document my journey from university into the real world via this blog, whilst commenting on life through the perspective of a feminist urban dwelling human geographer.

Final comment, with no relevance to anything in this post: Whilst creating my blog page, Google asked me what my gender was. I refused to answer. Google refused to let me continue. This annoyed me for two reasons:

1)      Gender is a social construction.

2)      Why does Google care what my sex is? 

Geography is all around you.