Friday, July 28, 2006

Fragmented Friday

- another note on the nice guy v prick entry from yesterday. I got this great email from matt who pointed out that if someone calls themselves a nice guy then it usually means they aren't. Real nice guys don't need to or want to define themselves so narrowly (or rather, they don't need to affirm it every time they go out for a drink). I wholeheartedly agree. He pointed me in the direction of a great article that I hope you'll read. It basically sums up my position on the Pick Up Artist who hides behind the cloak of "nice guy". Here's a great quote:

Let me put it this way–you’re not committed to women’s equality if you still think that women are obliged to reward you with a pussy avalanche for lowering yourself to treating them like human beings. And if you walk around with a chip on you shoulder, angry that women don’t immediately take off their pants because you kindly point out that you’re sure that their boyfriends are dickheads, because you know women like jerks, it’s going to show.

And let’s be frank, the niceness of “nice” guys is highly questionable if they feel they are entitled to be buried under a mountain of naked cheerleaders for having what many of us would consider the basic decency of having good politics. If guys with these expectations actually get a girlfriend and then do something nice like buy her a present, what otherworldly favors do they want in return before they get angry? The essence of the “nice” guy’s whine is, “I’m so awesome and the reason women don’t see it is every single woman in the world is a secret masochist.”


there are also some excellent thoughts which expand on this in the comment section. A worthy read! Thanks Matt :)

- Today I saw a (spew) ...financial planner. If you say you work with money and you actually like balancing ..err stuff, then I pretty much know which side of the line you live on (the other side to me). I can't think of anything more boring than "accounts" (except expense accounts) actually. But anyway, if that rocks your socks and wacky ties then so be it. But for me? Nah. Basically, I'm terrible with money - I can save if I put my mind to it, but I guess I don't really live as responsibly as I probably should. I have a credit card - it gets a work out - I couldn't even tell you what I spend money on. I'm not dumb - I know what can make and break ye in this world of capitalist pigs but I just hate trying to make sense of bank statements and working out what the fuck negative gearing means (*remembers old Late Show pun*). So yeah, I'm finally in the market for some bricks and mortar (not the kind from Bunnings Warehouse..the REAL kind that has it's own address) and it's a pretty scary place to be as a single chick on a teacher's salary. I realise I may quite poor for the next 30 odd years and then knowing my luck will probably die the day after I pay the bloody house off. Not that there is a house yet...

- Also, today I woke up with ANOTHER headache. I almost cried but went into work anyway (cause I'm an idiot). I told (whispered actually) the kids that I had a headache and was feeling very, very sick because of it and that my one rule in the AR today was "quiet and listening". All the kids were really nice about it actually. I guess they could tell that I was about to burst into tears. One of the students came up and said "don't worry Miss F. I have a headache too". When I called the roll they all said lovely things like "I'm here and you look lovely today!" or "I'm here and you ALWAYS look pretty". Of course these are outright LIES but teachers need some loving too ya know! By contrast, I was walking to the staffroom looking like death, when I encountered Vice Prin banging on a tin can like it was a bongo drum (yeah, I know - if a girl did that she'd never get a job anywhere - a guy does it and he gets rewarded with a promotion!). I was rubbing my temples VP said "aww what's wrong M?". I've got a headache P "Oh I've got something that will cure that!" *bangs louder on the bongo tins*. I give him the teacher look and he laughs and walks away.

Sometimes kids are way better than adults.

- Artist - Turned Nun- Turned Away From Nundom Cousin (yes, she's my age) is back in town for a little holiday. Despite the general feeling in my head of being stabbed with a thousand blunt needles I was so excited by our little get together. She's been an ex-pat for a year and a half and planning on staying that way for a long, long time. Some people you don't have to see everyday but you meet in a room and it's like you were never apart. Okay, she's family - we share the same fucked up genes- but you can't do that with everyone, ya know?

- S has her bachelorette party tomorrow night. The theme? A small flavour of the Middle East. Yeah, I had a wtf moment about it too. E suggested we put the dot in the middle of our foreheads (not quite middle eastern but yeah. lol). I suggested a full burka (I feel like shit this week anyway - the burka would be so liberating for those "bloaty" days wouldn't it?). L suggested we forget this middle eastern bullshit and just wear normal attire. The Middle East isn't really conjuring up lovely thoughts these days so it should be great on the streets of Melb. I have gone for a pair of nifty earrings and coiny bracelet (yeah, scraping the bottom of the barrel) - but I think everyone is going down that road for this one. The other proviso for the night was "bring something for the bedroom" (my first thought was ear plugs and a feather duster). Honestly, how cliche can that request get? Yes, I'm sure "the bedroom" is 100% raunchy lovin' every single night once you're married! And yeah, let's all bring out the dildos on the hens night, woo - we're so liberated yeah. pft. Yeah, right. I hope I never have such a dumb idea for my hens (ie: when my sperm sample from the sperm bank finally pops the big question). E summed it up best while in the body shop looking for massage oils.

Me: hm, this one smells nice
L: yep, gorgeous - we should get it.
E: so..should we get something like a moisturiser for after the massage?
Me and L: *not saying anything*
E: you know...so you aren't all oily..
Me: um, you don't need anything after the massage. After the massage S will be doing SOMETHING ELSE that doesn't involve moisturiers.
L: hahaha, exactly.
shopgirl: hahahaha
E: haha, oh no! What does S really going to think it's going to be like? *does rodeo riding while swinging cowboy hat in the air motion* "woohoo!! Bring it on"? I'm sorry. I wear my winnie the pooh flannel pajamas and fluffy socks and reading glasses at bedtime(may I add that actually, E is HOT). Let's be a bit practical.

So we settled for the three sides to the story. Life is complex after all.

1. Romantic: candles and massage oils.
2. Kinky: feather tickler, edible undies (I voted for the leather collar but ohhh no, no one went for MY idea!).
3. Practical: iddy-biddy-booklight.
bonus: candy covered g-string for the groom.

Which present turns you on most guys? Yes, exactly I know! THE IDDY BIDDY BOOKLIGHT! If you said anything else you are a goddamn liar!