Update: MIA's Born Free - It's always the gingers.

In an interesting development to yesterday's story on MIA - Born Free (well, less of a story, more of a cathartic sharing, to be honest), the wonder of tweetyness has just informed me that the MIA Born Free video has been banned by YouTube.

Imagine! All the stuff that gets on YouTube, and they ban this?

"But Sarah, why?" I hear at least a million readers scream from the ether (sure, you don't comment, but we all know you're there...).

Well, head over to her website and find out for yourself.

It's always the gingers. Always.

Born Free - M.I.A.

Because sometimes you've got to go a little bit crazy just to stay sane.

IttyBiz - the business of business

Enough of the monkey business. Bring on the penguins. No, there's no link to the rest of the post. None at all.
(Image: courtesy of Kysoh's Tux Droid and Gnu)

Anyone who runs their own business single-handed, but particularly those of us who work alone and from home, know just how isolating the business of business can be.

Sure, there are many perks. As a freelance writer and researcher, my work allows me to work from more or less anywhere and provides me with the perfect excuse to be one of Portsmouth's least known (yet paradoxically best-loved) coffee shop connoisseurs. Working my own hours and setting my own agenda are two more of the highs in the freelancing high life, but it's not all fresh lattes and satisfyingly tappy keyboards.

The downside includes being responsible for admin, marketing, and accounting - areas that cause me to become as sleepy as I do when listening to David Cameron's vomit-inducing sweet nothings as he whores out his party in the hope of becoming Britain's Next Prime Minister.

It's no surprise that I often need some help.

Today, on the suggestion of Mark McGuinness over at the online creative kickass heaven that is Lateral Action, I finished my latest dirty dozen posts over at Women's Views On News and toddled over to IttyBiz. The brainchild and potty-mouthed home of small business guru Naomi Dunford, IttyBiz is the entrepreneur's guide to everything you ever needed to know about money management, marketing, making the most of social media and lots of other business-oriented matters beginning with 'M'.

Naomi's style is uniquely approachable. But best of all for a navytown gal like me, it's also peppered with profanity, somehow managing to combine excellent advice with pithy, witty irreverence. The first post I read was titled 'Money! Or what kind of moron pees on their own boot?'

I was sold. And now I belong to Naomi Dunford. How about you?

Running with the acoustic wolf

We like Wolf Gang. Don't we (wolf) gang?

How I became a Feminist - and what about you?

Alright, so it's been a while. I could apologise but we both know it would be hollow and insincere.

For those of you who are particularly missing me (you know who you are, I don't answer your emails and there are restraining orders in place), you can catch me musing and ranting in equal measure on all things feminist and women's rights at the amazing and truly inspiring Women's Views on News, of which I am a proud co-editor. Failing that, you can find me similarly ranting on Twitter or on Facebook. I'll be back here whenever I get the chance, but the pub comes first and we all know it.

Today, I was tasked with writing a biography for my page on Women's Views on News, which was a very surreal experience. This, combined with a great day at the launch of UK Feminista last Saturday has led me to recall how I got involved with the feminist movement in the first place.

As I just noted in my biography - it should be autobiography, really, shouldn't it? - I became a feminist aged 12 years, when I learnt all about the history of the suffragettes at school. Up until then, history as I knew it was all about what men had done in the world, and learning about the Pankhursts, the Cat and Mouse Act, WSPU and Emily Wilding Davison changed my perception of women forever.

It also led me (via the library) straight into the feminist movement of the late eighties. I'm not sure at the time I understood much of it, but I did understand that this was a time and a place where women met as equals and expressed their hopes, their anger and their passion. Being 13 and pumped full of hormones, I was all over that like an attack of acne.

Within weeks, my ragged copy of Spare Rib was accompanying me to school every day and proving an odd contrast to my friends' copies of Mizz and Just Seventeen. I would read bits of 'The Female Eunuch' to my family over the dinner table leading to unlikely conversations (Dad: "Yes, Sarah, I know I'm an incomplete female. Now finish your tea...") and campaigned loudly and vehemently for women's rights. I've never looked back.

Well, until my mid-twenties, when I entered the world of working for a living and my dreams of becoming the next Sylvia Pankhurst faded into the background. Working for Women's Views on News over the last few months has re-kindled my interest and refocused my awareness on the state of international women's (lack of) rights today and I'm very grateful to the wonderful, inspiring founder of WVON, Alison Clarke for getting me involved. If you're a professional or an aspiring writer, head over to the WVON site and volunteer your skills, we're always looking for new contributors and editors.

Because of WVON, I was also lucky enough to attend the launch of new feminist activist organisation UK Feminista last Saturday, which brought me into contact with about 150 young women (and some men) who are working hard to change women's worlds for the better. It was a fantastic day and I look forward to seeing great stuff from all involved with UK Feminista over the coming months.

It's great to be back in the world of feminism, both for the consciousness-raising side and the political activism. Since I was involved the first time, I've discovered Buddhism, which is leading me to some interesting places in dealing with the sometimes overwhelming rage that is part and parcel of finding out how badly treated women still are, all over the world.

In some ways life was easier in the years when I wasn't involved in feminism, but ignorance is certainly no bliss. I've never found a way to get around the constant nagging sense that our culture is threatening to overwhelm my very sanity. Feminism and feminists are a sure fire way to restore my sanity by verifying that 'it's not just me, then', as well as rediscovering that sense of purpose, direction and meaning in life. Just the small things, eh.

But what I'm really working up to here is one central question for you, dear Reader: how did you become a feminist?

And for those of you wavering in uncertainty on the sidelines: what keeps you from describing yourself as a feminist and what do you think it would take for you to want to?

Answers please - it's what the comments box was invented for.

Music Monday

My cat, Puffin. Yes, you saw him at the weekend, looking all wistful about happiness and ting, but this is him rocking out on Music Monday.

Did I run out of time and inspiration on the picture front today, or am I always going to feature themed pictures of my cat? You decide. A big and well-deserved slap for the first Sid James wannabe who makes a joke about my pussy.

Thanks for all the Tweets about the last post (trumpets not included) to the brethren on Twitter - much obliged and thanks for the kudos.

And while we're on the subject and I'm thoroughly inspired by all things Cheep and Twittersome, Mondays are now officially Music Mondays here at The Daily. Well, I say that, this Monday is. You know how the moods take me.

And speaking of Twitter, one of my current clients (for jokes about being a hooker, see threat to Sid James wannabes, above) wants to kill me every time I mention it. It seems to have this effect on some people. This means I have to go to our early Wednesday morning meeting armed and dangerous, which means I'm going to have completely rethink my outfit. Anyhoo....

Back to the music.

Seeing as the world definitely does not need just another music blog (and if it does, it wouldn't be written by me - Doris Day and Dolly Parton need no introduction, in my opinion), I'm just going to give you the heads up on three great music sites/tools. These seem designed for people like me who love new music, but wouldn't know where to find it even if they took up permanent residence between the covers of the NME.

These sites are also the reason why you no longer find me in the kitchen at parties. I'm now firmly ensconced between the pot plant and the vomiting stranger no one remembers inviting.

Hype Machine - I thought EVERYONE but me had heard of Hype when I found it, until I started mentioning it to people I know, and they hadn't. It takes the best songs that the best music bloggers are raving over or to and puts them all in one place, with some handy little features that allow you to share the musical magic on a truly global scale. It's interactive from many social networking angles and will have new music coming out of every single one of your many orifices. You can quote me on that. Why do I get the feeling I might regret saying that......?

Track in the Box - this is the latest offering from those ALWAYS cool (no matter what they might say) people over at The Greenhouse Group in their continuing mission to make new music grow. It delivers a brand new track into your inbox every single day - hence the title. How we love the tin and doing exactly what it says on it. I have liked every track so far, which is either proof of my growing coolness or a terrible indictment of their musical preferences. I think the former, but why not try it for a week and make up your own mind. Bet you a slap with a haddock you won't unsubscribe.

The Music File - I found these guys entirely by accident through Twitter, bless its chirruping little wordcount and this site has it all. Song of the Day. Downloads. Mixes for the Moment. And Radio - what more could you possibly want? Ok, ok, from music I mean. Visit, follow them on Twitter, hell, you can stalk them if you like, but go there. No. Don't stalk them really. They might never forgive me and I'm trying to impress them.

Oh, and have I mentioned Twitter yet? Because you should really join. Otherwise, by about 11am on Wednesday morning I'll be sporting a black eye for nothing.

Reasons to be happy....1,2,3. Er, and 4.

Cat's are the all -time, rock-out experts at knowing how to Just Be.

Photo courtesy of James Cartwright over at our very fave Southsea Salon, The Peace Cafe

This post is for Paris, who - after last night's Caravan Gallery launch of their unflinchingly fantastic Is Britain Great 2 (I was still waxing lyrical about the first one) bemoaned the loss of The Daily AND complained I never write about him, so here I am, killing two birds with one stone.

[For info: if I was really to kill two birds with one stone, I'd go for Celine Dion, one hell of a knock-out, skull bounce ricochet, and then Jordan.]

Paris was right - it has been ages since I was here and excuses I have none. I've been devoting my attention to getting back into the swing of working for a living again following several months travelling in South East Asia (see Que Sera Sarah).

This has taken more of my time and energy than I had expected because the '9 to silly o'clock' of freelancing is much harder than I remember. This is, in part, because a lot has changed for me since I went/while I was there and in part because as a result of those changes, I'm gradually reassessing what I want from what I what I do. In fact, I'm trying to make what I do the same as what I want, and what I want the same as what makes me happy.

Still with me? Good, because happiness is a lot harder than I thought.

You see, it's easy to be happy when you're travelling (notwithstanding plane delays, incomprehensible systems of public transport and compulsory testing for swine flu). Travelling life is as The Parker once said, a medley of extemporanea. Rise in the morning, go and see new, beautiful, awe-inspiring things, eat great food, meet people and sleep with the peacefulness of the truly enlightened (Repeat for duration of trip). For three months, my daily life was intense and at the extremes, running from terror to euphoria with the speed of an Olympian athlete and I have never been so consistently happy in my life.

And from consistent happiness came an amazing sense of freedom. Not just freedom of movement in the travelling sense, but freedom to be myself - after all, who cares about making a fool of yourself, making mistakes or making a mess when you're on the other side of the world?

For one thing, you're really unlikely to see most of these people again, so you can wear the egg on your face like L'oreal. But for another, the investment I had made in the whole trip - not just financially, but professionally, in the risk of losing my clients while I was gone, and personally, in the potential for failure - made it imperative that I not miss opportunities to DO everything, SEE everything, BE THERE for every moment.

So suffice to say, I learnt a lot. And, while travelling, (this one's for you, Paris) I couldn't help but wonder why I couldn't be this person - this fearless, confident, outrageously happy, creative and peaceful-even-in-sadness, stress or terror-Me - back home.

And although I loved travelling, gradually the desire to test the theory, and the growing belief that I could BE this ME at home, was what brought me home.

So here I am, living the dream with a set of simpler rules for life:

• 
  
  Be here now,


• 
  
  Be Me,


• 
  
  Love


• 
  
  Be Loved.
  

If it ain't one of these Big 4, I'm not doing it.

It's not always easy and it's not always fun.

Very often it brings me face to face with the self-constraining habits that have led to so much unhappiness in the past, namely: living in the future or the past, pretending to be someone else, hating myself and judging - or worse, blaming - others, and not allowing others close to me).

But it is rewarding, it is flying by the seat of my lacy pants, and it is working.

I'm going out more, meeting new people. I'm spending more time with the people I love. I achieve more. And FINALLY I'm working on a novel, with the help of those amazing folks over at NaNoWriMo.

Because being responsible for your own happiness is the key to success, even when you fail. And asking that first question, What makes me happy? is the best starting point I've found yet.

But you can't do it alone. I haven't.

As well as friends and family, there are people living their dreams right now, all over the world. They'll tell you it's not easy, either, but if asked the question - Is it worth it? - all would give you a resounding Yes, if not a resounding, Well, Duh. Obviously.

If you need some inspiration, I'd recommend a trip to Cambodia, but if that's out of the question, try some WorldwideWonderWeb inspiration instead:

Gretchen Rubin's Happiness Project is not only inspiring, but a vital source of practical tips and hints for all things Pursuit of Happiness.

The freshly discovered Ally Jade's 52 week project tells its own amazing story about the role of creativity in helping us to Just Be Ourselves.

Some of my current fave great indie mags and fresh new entrepreneurs show us the value of pursuing - at all costs, with great patience and endless dedication - That Big Idea. Check out: Noir et Blanc, Yeah, and Knock Back.

If your big idea needs some practical assistance, subscribe to Lateral Action for a weekly dose of kick-up-the-arse inspiration that never fails to inspire - both practically and creatively.....

....and don't forget to check out founder Mark McGuiness' site, the beautifully named, Wishful Thinking while you're at it. ESPECIALLY if 'finding the time' is one of your number one excuses for putting off the things that make you happy, or could. His free (yes, my brethren, I said FREE) e-book Time Management for Creative People will change your life, if you let it.

But if you like your inspiration a bit sharper around the edges, you have to, Have To, HAVE TO find any excuse to lose some unregrettable hours in the Gaping Void of Hugh MacLeod - where healthy, honest to Betsy, hard truths come in cubes.

I'll let you know how my own yellow brick road to happiness - both personal and professional - goes. And in the meantime, why not let me know what makes you happy, and what your rules for happiness might be?

You never know where it might lead. Or maybe you do...