[Miscellany]
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Rambling Crazy Lady Post
It's been a funny old contemplative weekend. I caught up with an old friend on Friday night. K is resplendent in the later stages of her pregnancy and I am torn with being so happy for her and with noticing my own utter lack in this department. Soon I will be the only one in that particular friendship group sans child. This is not exactly a welcome concept, mostly due to the fact that our conversations already revolve around poop and children and never around those philosophical and political arguments that we used to have and I wonder how much more baby centered they can become. It scares me for the state of our friendship, how much longer can I sustain not ever being asked how I am? Maybe soon I'll be able to slip away in the middle of a conversation and steal into the gin cupboard and no one will even notice. Even the crazy little voice inside my head is now telling me I need new friends that are at the same stage in life as I am that is (spinsters and lunatics).
K and I were still able to have a rational conversation on the account of the child still being in utero so we made the most of it by me moaning about my job and her looking at me pityingly and K discussing her fears about giving birth and me (unwisely) advising her to take all the drugs available (preferably at once). The birth thing sounds rather hard, scary and horrible but I can't pity it. It's a beautiful miracle and she is so fortunate to have the love in her life that has afforded this experience for her. I am trying to think of the fortunate things in my life. I keep coming up with 'at least I'm not homeless' or 'I never have to compromise over the remote control', which is absolutely true but also kind of sad if that is the best I can do.
EM whom I had dinner with last night is in my predicament but she has made peace with her childless, spinster state. I don't even know how you would begin to do that. I'm the opposite. Case in point - this is the photo I'm staring at right now as I type this. It lives on the wall of my study.
It's beautiful, no? It's a vision of (my) stupid, ridiculous hope and although I love looking at it I hate that I harbor these hopes still. It only makes it harder to move on with my life.
Despite that difference between EM and I, we are of one mind when it comes to the plight of the single lady in her 30s. I like having friends who completely understand what it is like not to want to go to weddings alone and lament on the unfairness of always giving the gift but never being the recipient of any. Also this:
Anyway we are now living in post-feminist glory (apparently) and a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle (or so I've heard) but my God, when will the wilderness years be over? I don't give a shit about being independent or see taking the garbage out as a 'win' in the division of labour. I don't see being single as freeing at all. In fact I think you are more restricted as a single person. I can't quit my job and 'find myself'. Who exactly is going to pay the mortgage when I do that? If I get sick, there is a series of complicated measures I have to go through in order to get through it. There's no depending on someone to pick up the slack when things go wrong. I am not so much fearing being eaten by Alsatians as I am planning it now.
As for breeding. I can almost literally hear the tick-tocking of that old biological clock ringing in my ears and I realise that this is it. Halle Berry may be able to get away with having a baby in her late 40s but I won't be able to. It's now or never and this scares me because... well now is ...NOW. I have thought about this a bit and I have my own set of morals here about the subject but is it selfish to 'go it alone?' I'm not counting it out completely, but let's just say I'm not making any appointments to the clinic either...
I'm not even sure what the point of this entry is. I was going to write about the beauty in the passage of time as symbolised in seeing Before Midnight with K but um... I guess not. Sorry about that.
K and I were still able to have a rational conversation on the account of the child still being in utero so we made the most of it by me moaning about my job and her looking at me pityingly and K discussing her fears about giving birth and me (unwisely) advising her to take all the drugs available (preferably at once). The birth thing sounds rather hard, scary and horrible but I can't pity it. It's a beautiful miracle and she is so fortunate to have the love in her life that has afforded this experience for her. I am trying to think of the fortunate things in my life. I keep coming up with 'at least I'm not homeless' or 'I never have to compromise over the remote control', which is absolutely true but also kind of sad if that is the best I can do.
EM whom I had dinner with last night is in my predicament but she has made peace with her childless, spinster state. I don't even know how you would begin to do that. I'm the opposite. Case in point - this is the photo I'm staring at right now as I type this. It lives on the wall of my study.
It's beautiful, no? It's a vision of (my) stupid, ridiculous hope and although I love looking at it I hate that I harbor these hopes still. It only makes it harder to move on with my life.
Despite that difference between EM and I, we are of one mind when it comes to the plight of the single lady in her 30s. I like having friends who completely understand what it is like not to want to go to weddings alone and lament on the unfairness of always giving the gift but never being the recipient of any. Also this:
Anyway we are now living in post-feminist glory (apparently) and a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle (or so I've heard) but my God, when will the wilderness years be over? I don't give a shit about being independent or see taking the garbage out as a 'win' in the division of labour. I don't see being single as freeing at all. In fact I think you are more restricted as a single person. I can't quit my job and 'find myself'. Who exactly is going to pay the mortgage when I do that? If I get sick, there is a series of complicated measures I have to go through in order to get through it. There's no depending on someone to pick up the slack when things go wrong. I am not so much fearing being eaten by Alsatians as I am planning it now.
As for breeding. I can almost literally hear the tick-tocking of that old biological clock ringing in my ears and I realise that this is it. Halle Berry may be able to get away with having a baby in her late 40s but I won't be able to. It's now or never and this scares me because... well now is ...NOW. I have thought about this a bit and I have my own set of morals here about the subject but is it selfish to 'go it alone?' I'm not counting it out completely, but let's just say I'm not making any appointments to the clinic either...
I'm not even sure what the point of this entry is. I was going to write about the beauty in the passage of time as symbolised in seeing Before Midnight with K but um... I guess not. Sorry about that.
Labels: babies, dirty femmo, friends, girls and women, messy women, rant, singletons, there is no life after babies for the mothers in the equation but maybe they don't mind so much anyway, what women want, women
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sharing the love
It's gotten to the stage where I've known my newest friends for 10 years.
wow.... just wow.
One such group of old chums of mine met for pre-dinner drinks at a rather self conscious venue in the city the other night and talk, turned to how we make our money - which is hilarious since none of us have any money! However, apparently two of us have share portfolios. SHARES! I could hardly believe it when they started talking about the all ordinaries index like they knew what it was. I use that segment in the news to double check the couch for any stray pieces of chocolate (sad but true) and could barely keep up with the conversation. I was under the impression that only salt and pepper haired men who are trying to reclaim their youth by riding vespas had share portfolios, but clearly I am wrong. Apparently 30 somethings are doing it too. In fact I felt rather left out and behind the times with my common place mortgage and pathetic teacher salary. It's all about shares now, and nobody thought to tell me.
I'm feeling rather like I do when people say they are fans of Ke$ha (should there be an exclamation mark at the end?) and her music. I kind of think wow, I didn't consider her a person worthy of thinking as a musician, let alone someone who would have a serious fan who would spend money on an album. That's kind of like me and shares. It just never crossed my mind to consider them as anything more than an annoyance taking up a whole precious section of the newspaper that could otherwise be devoted to something important, like movies or Charlie Sheen.
I don't know many people read this thing but certainly a great deal more than comment - so please let me know if you play the market. I need to know where I stand in this thing.
wow.... just wow.
One such group of old chums of mine met for pre-dinner drinks at a rather self conscious venue in the city the other night and talk, turned to how we make our money - which is hilarious since none of us have any money! However, apparently two of us have share portfolios. SHARES! I could hardly believe it when they started talking about the all ordinaries index like they knew what it was. I use that segment in the news to double check the couch for any stray pieces of chocolate (sad but true) and could barely keep up with the conversation. I was under the impression that only salt and pepper haired men who are trying to reclaim their youth by riding vespas had share portfolios, but clearly I am wrong. Apparently 30 somethings are doing it too. In fact I felt rather left out and behind the times with my common place mortgage and pathetic teacher salary. It's all about shares now, and nobody thought to tell me.
I'm feeling rather like I do when people say they are fans of Ke$ha (should there be an exclamation mark at the end?) and her music. I kind of think wow, I didn't consider her a person worthy of thinking as a musician, let alone someone who would have a serious fan who would spend money on an album. That's kind of like me and shares. It just never crossed my mind to consider them as anything more than an annoyance taking up a whole precious section of the newspaper that could otherwise be devoted to something important, like movies or Charlie Sheen.
I don't know many people read this thing but certainly a great deal more than comment - so please let me know if you play the market. I need to know where I stand in this thing.
Labels: friends, girls and women, grown ups, money, why do people get so touchy when it comes to talking about these things?
Sunday, August 31, 2008
The Funeral March.
Is Feminism Dead?
It's a question that gets asked every so often, usually on a slow news day, or when a problem comes up that no one has the answer to (I know, let's blame feminism!) or when someone releases a new book on the subject. It's the question that was asked in today's Weekend Australian and the subject debated at tonight's forum From Friedan to Feministas - as part of the Melbourne Writer's Festival.
Is Feminism Dead?
Well, I don't know. I've heard asked so many times over the last 10 years (it's been over 10 years now that the famous article in Time came out) that I have to wonder whether feminism truly has 9 lives? It's dead, then it's alive and kicking and responsible for all the world's ills and then remarkably it's dead again and then...uh oh someone brings up maternity leave in politics and suddenly there it is - feminism - pounding down single buildings with its gigantic (hairy, un-pedicured, lesbian, dirty man-hating - no doubt-) foot and causing all the trouble again. Either it's dead or alive, let's decide on one and leave it at that.
Indeed if we really do pronounce it dead - who the hell killed it?
Was it the Paris Hilton wannabe internet porn stars? Is it the misplaced Spice Girls fans? Is it the "I take pole dancing lessons because it's a great way to keep fit" darlings of the night club scene? Is it the women who don't want to call themselves a feminist because they're "not lesbians and don't hate men" as if asserting somehow that all feminists are this. Is it the deliberate media bashing that feminism garners? Is it single mothers? Happily married mothers who decide not to work? Politicians? Prostitutes? Male opinions on blogs? Is it life after university? Is it the new feminists? Are they too different from the old feminists? What is it that pulled the trigger?
If feminism is dead, what killed it?
At tonight's forum, five women (Emily Maguire, Monica Dux, Catharine Lumby and Susan Maushart) from diverse social, political backgrounds came together to discuss the topic of feminism: Namely - Where are we now? What does it mean for us today? And quite frankly five different and dizzying opinions were put forth. From the rarely discussed silent prejudice against single mothers in the workforce who not only find it difficult in the work force but have also given up their superannuation to look after their children. What happens to them at 65? To "feminism is everywhere" - it's all around us. It's anything but dead - it's alive and kicking. It's still inspiring. It's still happening and though it's more diverse, it's still strong. To an assertion that we should give up the name as it is meaningless and an antagonist for negative opinion. And funnily, though she is often cited as an unrealistic role model - Barbie circa 1963 is the epitome of the modern woman today - bleach blonde, fake tan, fake boobs, brazillian wax, too thin, single and working.
Is feminism dead. Is it too exclusive? Too academic? Too middle class?
One brave woman asked about the elephant in the room. What about the men? Is feminism relevant for them - and if so, how? It was an important question that unfortunately came right at the end. You'd think that yes - considering we're all inextricably engaged - men and women - with each other. Considering men father daughters, marry women, fall in love, care for in a platonic way and all are born from one (and too often, these days anyway - are solely raised by them). Well you think it would be relevant. But is it?
Is feminism dead and buried under the onslaught of differing opinions that never meet in the middle?
It was difficult to keep track of all the opinions and indeed while I was wary of some speakers (Catharine Lumby mostly) by and large there were many opinions from all women on the panel that I agreed with. It really brought home the diversity of the feminist opinion. Is there a unified goal or purpose? Perhaps, no. But does it make it an irrelevant movement that has reached it's end? Judging by the audience (yes there were men, only a few - but they were there) there are many who identify as one, even if we all don't quite agree with their opinions exactly. I think at the heart of it all - feminists are aware that all is not quite right and want to see change that drives our society forward into a more harmonious place. A more equal place. That's the way I read it anyway. Indeed, the way we humans live is not quite right for many people, many groups are marginalised by society - and indeed feminists fight not only for women but for pretty much all the groups that are maginalised because all of them are interconnected in some way with feminism. That's how broad it is.
Is feminism dead? What a hostile question! What a sensationalist question and example of lazy journalism. Like anything else, maybe it depends on who you ask, of course.
I'd like to see more bravery happening from women when it comes to feminism, but does that mean it's dead?
And if it is, what the hell does a girl with a blog and a voice and a job and a brain and who is not going to be duped by public opinion to the contrary about what a feminist is. Who believes that all things are not equal ...yet. Who feels there is room for change for both genders. Who understands that not all choices are created equal and the claim that "everyone has a choice" is one of the biggest myths that pervades our consciousness. If feminism is dead. What does that girl call herself?
It's a question that gets asked every so often, usually on a slow news day, or when a problem comes up that no one has the answer to (I know, let's blame feminism!) or when someone releases a new book on the subject. It's the question that was asked in today's Weekend Australian and the subject debated at tonight's forum From Friedan to Feministas - as part of the Melbourne Writer's Festival.
Is Feminism Dead?
Well, I don't know. I've heard asked so many times over the last 10 years (it's been over 10 years now that the famous article in Time came out) that I have to wonder whether feminism truly has 9 lives? It's dead, then it's alive and kicking and responsible for all the world's ills and then remarkably it's dead again and then...uh oh someone brings up maternity leave in politics and suddenly there it is - feminism - pounding down single buildings with its gigantic (hairy, un-pedicured, lesbian, dirty man-hating - no doubt-) foot and causing all the trouble again. Either it's dead or alive, let's decide on one and leave it at that.
Indeed if we really do pronounce it dead - who the hell killed it?
Was it the Paris Hilton wannabe internet porn stars? Is it the misplaced Spice Girls fans? Is it the "I take pole dancing lessons because it's a great way to keep fit" darlings of the night club scene? Is it the women who don't want to call themselves a feminist because they're "not lesbians and don't hate men" as if asserting somehow that all feminists are this. Is it the deliberate media bashing that feminism garners? Is it single mothers? Happily married mothers who decide not to work? Politicians? Prostitutes? Male opinions on blogs? Is it life after university? Is it the new feminists? Are they too different from the old feminists? What is it that pulled the trigger?
If feminism is dead, what killed it?
At tonight's forum, five women (Emily Maguire, Monica Dux, Catharine Lumby and Susan Maushart) from diverse social, political backgrounds came together to discuss the topic of feminism: Namely - Where are we now? What does it mean for us today? And quite frankly five different and dizzying opinions were put forth. From the rarely discussed silent prejudice against single mothers in the workforce who not only find it difficult in the work force but have also given up their superannuation to look after their children. What happens to them at 65? To "feminism is everywhere" - it's all around us. It's anything but dead - it's alive and kicking. It's still inspiring. It's still happening and though it's more diverse, it's still strong. To an assertion that we should give up the name as it is meaningless and an antagonist for negative opinion. And funnily, though she is often cited as an unrealistic role model - Barbie circa 1963 is the epitome of the modern woman today - bleach blonde, fake tan, fake boobs, brazillian wax, too thin, single and working.
Is feminism dead. Is it too exclusive? Too academic? Too middle class?
One brave woman asked about the elephant in the room. What about the men? Is feminism relevant for them - and if so, how? It was an important question that unfortunately came right at the end. You'd think that yes - considering we're all inextricably engaged - men and women - with each other. Considering men father daughters, marry women, fall in love, care for in a platonic way and all are born from one (and too often, these days anyway - are solely raised by them). Well you think it would be relevant. But is it?
Is feminism dead and buried under the onslaught of differing opinions that never meet in the middle?
It was difficult to keep track of all the opinions and indeed while I was wary of some speakers (Catharine Lumby mostly) by and large there were many opinions from all women on the panel that I agreed with. It really brought home the diversity of the feminist opinion. Is there a unified goal or purpose? Perhaps, no. But does it make it an irrelevant movement that has reached it's end? Judging by the audience (yes there were men, only a few - but they were there) there are many who identify as one, even if we all don't quite agree with their opinions exactly. I think at the heart of it all - feminists are aware that all is not quite right and want to see change that drives our society forward into a more harmonious place. A more equal place. That's the way I read it anyway. Indeed, the way we humans live is not quite right for many people, many groups are marginalised by society - and indeed feminists fight not only for women but for pretty much all the groups that are maginalised because all of them are interconnected in some way with feminism. That's how broad it is.
Is feminism dead? What a hostile question! What a sensationalist question and example of lazy journalism. Like anything else, maybe it depends on who you ask, of course.
I'd like to see more bravery happening from women when it comes to feminism, but does that mean it's dead?
And if it is, what the hell does a girl with a blog and a voice and a job and a brain and who is not going to be duped by public opinion to the contrary about what a feminist is. Who believes that all things are not equal ...yet. Who feels there is room for change for both genders. Who understands that not all choices are created equal and the claim that "everyone has a choice" is one of the biggest myths that pervades our consciousness. If feminism is dead. What does that girl call herself?
Labels: dirty femmo, girls and women, melbourne musings, real women, what men want, what women want
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Babies and femmos.
Being a non-babied up person living in a world where it seems like everyone has spawned has afforded me the opportunity to observe things without being too emotionally involved. I have my pet peeves with how mums and dads behave just like I have my pet peeves by how ordinary everyday people behave. In fact, one might argue that I have a lot of pet peeves. Oh well, I'm peevey - you really got a problem with that?
A little issue has arisen lately in baby-land and I have to say, it's given me more peeves than ever thought possible. I'm talking about how people react to the weight of babies. Now I realise that weight is probably the most important way that one can distinguish how healthy a baby is but I'm not talking about that. It's the language that people use.
My friend S's little miracle (really, he actually is - spend first couple of months at the Children's hospital and really was touch and go for a while there) has been growing in leaps and bounds since he was released from the hospital. Really he is one of the cutest babies in the world. He's one of those babies that strangers will boldly approach and want to hold. Things started off a little rough for the poor guy but now he's doing well. In fact when people see him how they ALWAYS comment about what a big boy he is, and how chubby he is getting and ...hey maybe mum should be putting him on a little feeding restriction. The thing is little N is not like those big babies you see on Phil Donohue where the baby is actually half the size of mum at 1 year of age and looks basically like an adult in diapers (though, I might be confusing this with a whoooole other episode of Donohue). Little N is in fact precisely in the 50th percentile for his weight. He's the epitome of normality. He's not 1 percent below or above he's just right. Meanwhile mothers of babies born on the 15th percentile are commenting about what a chubbster N is - not in a nice way either - in an I'm slightly worried about your baby way - patronising, utterly patronising. Like as if being born thin and still thin is somehow better than than being normal and healthy.
The reason why it's a peeve of mine is that I can see where this is leading. We already have this preoccupation with children's weight and the so-called obesity crisis in children. I wish I could link to an entry that "pubby" wrote about this issue but he's taken his blog offline - but he also asked whether these figures were sincere because he hadn't noticed that suddenly all these kids were supposedly fat. I work with kids. I see kids everyday and there is probably 1 per class who is overweight. IF THAT. I don't have any this year at all. In fact I'm looking at all the children I know who started school this year and there is not ONE who would even be considered chubby - that's almost 100 new children! Figures point to something like 40% of children being fat but from what I've seen it's actually about 5% which is called a NORMAL DISTRIBUTION of fat folks. Maybe it's 10% in some areas...yes, more concerning but still, hardly an epidemic! I don't know if figures are being inflated or whether the way we measure fat is right off the scale (pun intended) but if it's an epidemic then I don't bloody see it at all.
The point is the weight obsession starts with babies. All these mothers (let's face it, mostly mums) are obsessed with talking about the weight of their own children but not only that, I sense some smugness and defensiveness about weight, depending on where on the percentile the baby falls. Once I commented on how F's baby J had grown into a big boy. I hadn't seen him in about 3 months and he was like a new child. So what, he got big! Big deal, it's great, it's called growing. But I got flicked with the end of the wrath stick quick smart by F who snapped that actually he's only on the 30th percentile now and not big at all. Ohhhhh kay, sorry didn't think I was suggesting that your baby was a sumo wrestler but hey, whatever.
Incidentally why is it so wrong to say that a female baby is a "big strong girl". Ever try saying that one? It's like you're saying "hey I've just noticed that your daughter is a big fat dyke. I can see that she's a breath away from letting her body hair get to unflattering lengths and start listening to angry girl rock" I thought, growing was supposed to be a good thing! Maybe not in girls.
In other news concerning dirty femmo stuff, I was intrigued by a column in Sunday's Age by Angela Pippos "What's Wrong with Being a Fashionista Feminist Anyway?" where she addresses just how diverse feminists are in this era. She also says
She goes on to list a few examples of questioning she is immediately dealt by affronted men "Do you expect men to open doors for you?" "Do you want a man to pay for dinner on a first date?" etc. You know the typical questions asked of femnos that makes everyone want to stab their eyes out. What really interests me about her column is the underlying question for me about feminism. Why is it still a dirty word? Yes, I'm being serious. In all my years of being a feminist I've never met one who hates men. I've never met one who burns her bra. I've never met one who spends all night planing to picket the local men's club or any of the other stereotypes that are prescribed to so called ..here is comes "feminazis". Do I know lesbian femmos? Of course. Does that mean ALL feminists are gay? Do I know femmos who are frustrated by the status quo and frustrated by some perceptions perpetrated by men. Hell yes, does that mean that they are frustrated with men in general? Pssssh, I don't think so. I hate that type of generalising of feminists that happens but actually has little grounds in reality.
I don't know about you but when I hear the old "you're a man hater" (often comes in a feminist type entry) and it's been written here on this journal as well me reading it on so many other feminist blogs that I've lost count - I often think that the person writing it either has shit for brains, doesn't actually KNOW any feminists or rather...doesn't KNOW any women AT ALL or that maybe..just maybe THEY don't really like women all that much themselves, or feel threatened by them expressing an opinion - whatever. The fact that I *am* a feminist and I don't actually know ANY feminists who hate men NOR do I hate them myself sort of makes me wonder why on earth that's a phrase that is so easily thrown around by others when confronted with someone who claims to be a feminist? I mean I always hear about these so-called feminists who are supposed to hate men, usually it comes in the form of "yeah I know a feminist who hates men" but you know..it's sort of like an urban myth to me. Have you heard the one about the lady with the boil on her face that exploded and 50 tiny spiders came out? Yeah, that common. If anything feminists have so much problem in appearing a unified group with unifying beliefs in the first place that *men* aren't even the issue. It's women and what women think that is more of an issue.
Perhaps it's that feminist discourse is centered around the fact that things are not quite right in the world of woman. That there are certain issues that affect our gender and those issues maybe be life threatening or indeed socially confining to women. Maybe there's some resentment too, that women get the focus for this type of discourse? The fact that they are discussed might be a little too confronting for some people and confused with hate - when really it's not about hate at all, it's about getting answers and asking WHY does this happen to women? Is that a wrong question to ask? I certainly don't think so. It does NOT negate the FACT that things happen to men too and that is an important point. That in fact we are all individuals who have shit happen to us at some stage or another and that there are issues for men that are just as concerning that in fact SHOULD be discussed too. They should be discussed by the same people that are complaining that are sick of hearing about women's issues and say that yeah, men have issues too can't you see that? Well, dude, discuss away! Indeed, asking why the world is a certain way is not about hating anyone. It's about trying to get answers about how things are and perhaps start discourse that will affect change. One can only hope anyway.
I know that discussions about rape, prostitution, maternity leave and domestic violence gets a lot of backs up, especially with men but the fact of the matter is that these things DO happen and they DO happen mostly to women and the fact that we make up more than half the population means that it's something that everyone should be worried about. These are things that SHOULD be discussed widely and without refrain. It happens and the fact that it happens disturbingly often to one gender over another is a cause for feminist discourse. Live with it! I've read so many "anti-feminist" blogs (mostly written by anonymous people with anonymous comments - just goes to show doesn't it?) that will reference one article where a woman has beaten her husband in a show of domestic violence. Yes it happens and this is horrible. I don't want to diminish that - but the anti-feminist blogger will then say (and this happens in almost 100 percent of all anti-feminist bloggers) something along the lines of "and now you see why I refuse to get involved with all women. Women are evil etc etc". This is in direct opposition to most feminist blogs which takes issue on women's issues in society and how that affects us and in fact are a celebration of female achievement in the arts and culture. They are positive places that actually reserve any condensation of men to specific examples ie: THIS MAN said something not quite right about women. THIS MAN is wrong. Whereas the anti-feminist blogs that I've read are all about generalising one act to mean *all* women and being defensive about it too. Perhaps I've yet to come across a anti-feminist blog that is about being male positive instead of female negative. I'm know that there are some feminist blogs that really ARE venomous about a lot of things too, including men but definitely not the popular ones. The popular feminist blogs are generally very political places that invite discussion by men and indeed a lot of them have a dedicated male following too.
For the record I have read many male written gender positive blogs that have nothing to do with anti-feminism - they don't shy away from bringing up issues that are specific to men either! They are great and there should be more of them. They write about male and female issues with sex, violence and everything in between and they are so great because they don't fall into that age old trap of 'what I admire about women is their breasts, bum, legs, they look beautiful, they smell beautiful' - which is quite typical in what DOES tend to get written about women from a male perspective. I mean that kind of blog is great and all but male blogs that go beyond that REALLY need to be applauded for being so great - and they're not great because I agree with them, because I don't always, they're great because they are truthful without falling into "all feminists are bitches" type rhetoric.
Considering that not all feminists are the same, nor do any of the old stereotypes stand up why is it that the F-word is still a dirty one?
Anyway, on to Musical Monday in this haphazard post of mine. Of course, let's just complete the entry with a reference to Kat Bjelland; an artist I'm pretty much so in awe of I can't quite figure out the right words. She looks like an angel but has the voice of a terrifying demon. That's the best I can come up with. In the early days she cavorted around with Courtney Love and Jennifer Finch experimenting in a couple of bands before all went their separate ways and all became highly influential artists in their own right, with their own bands. I sigh here as I make the distinction and say they were 'female centered' bands - grrl rock if you will. Why? Oh because I've featured many, many bands who have all male members and sing about manly things but never distinguished them by saying 'all male' or 'male centered'. It's funny how these distinctions work in rock for women as opposed to men but there you have it.
Babes in Toyland had been around for a good many years before I got into them. I was completely taken with Kat Bjelland and in particular her rock operatic meets screaming banshee type singing voice.
She was a cheerleader in high school by the way.
A cheerleader AND a dirty femmo too. Oh my god, is your mind about to explode? Yes, it's true, us dirty femmos aren't just one type of person. I guess, that was my whole point. Mother's can be feminists. Hot girls can be feminists. Women who love men can be feminists. Scientists can be feminists. Radio personalities can be feminists. Men can be feminists. Cheerleaders can be feminists. It's not just one type of person. And for the record I've read many a comment implying that those people mentioned above CAN'T be feminists - like mum's can't be feminists. ha! Well I'm linking right here to a GREAT entry by a femmo mum who outlines some great points about how to raise your daughter a feminist and you know what? The initial question about 'how do I raise my daughter a feminist?' came from a bloke. How's that for breaking down a few barriers. Yes folks, it's not actually about man hating. Sorry to disappoint - on with the music.
Bruise Violet - Babes In Toyland (apparently not about Courtney Love..but I doubt it! lol).
Sweet 69 - Babes in Toyland
A little issue has arisen lately in baby-land and I have to say, it's given me more peeves than ever thought possible. I'm talking about how people react to the weight of babies. Now I realise that weight is probably the most important way that one can distinguish how healthy a baby is but I'm not talking about that. It's the language that people use.
My friend S's little miracle (really, he actually is - spend first couple of months at the Children's hospital and really was touch and go for a while there) has been growing in leaps and bounds since he was released from the hospital. Really he is one of the cutest babies in the world. He's one of those babies that strangers will boldly approach and want to hold. Things started off a little rough for the poor guy but now he's doing well. In fact when people see him how they ALWAYS comment about what a big boy he is, and how chubby he is getting and ...hey maybe mum should be putting him on a little feeding restriction. The thing is little N is not like those big babies you see on Phil Donohue where the baby is actually half the size of mum at 1 year of age and looks basically like an adult in diapers (though, I might be confusing this with a whoooole other episode of Donohue). Little N is in fact precisely in the 50th percentile for his weight. He's the epitome of normality. He's not 1 percent below or above he's just right. Meanwhile mothers of babies born on the 15th percentile are commenting about what a chubbster N is - not in a nice way either - in an I'm slightly worried about your baby way - patronising, utterly patronising. Like as if being born thin and still thin is somehow better than than being normal and healthy.
The reason why it's a peeve of mine is that I can see where this is leading. We already have this preoccupation with children's weight and the so-called obesity crisis in children. I wish I could link to an entry that "pubby" wrote about this issue but he's taken his blog offline - but he also asked whether these figures were sincere because he hadn't noticed that suddenly all these kids were supposedly fat. I work with kids. I see kids everyday and there is probably 1 per class who is overweight. IF THAT. I don't have any this year at all. In fact I'm looking at all the children I know who started school this year and there is not ONE who would even be considered chubby - that's almost 100 new children! Figures point to something like 40% of children being fat but from what I've seen it's actually about 5% which is called a NORMAL DISTRIBUTION of fat folks. Maybe it's 10% in some areas...yes, more concerning but still, hardly an epidemic! I don't know if figures are being inflated or whether the way we measure fat is right off the scale (pun intended) but if it's an epidemic then I don't bloody see it at all.
The point is the weight obsession starts with babies. All these mothers (let's face it, mostly mums) are obsessed with talking about the weight of their own children but not only that, I sense some smugness and defensiveness about weight, depending on where on the percentile the baby falls. Once I commented on how F's baby J had grown into a big boy. I hadn't seen him in about 3 months and he was like a new child. So what, he got big! Big deal, it's great, it's called growing. But I got flicked with the end of the wrath stick quick smart by F who snapped that actually he's only on the 30th percentile now and not big at all. Ohhhhh kay, sorry didn't think I was suggesting that your baby was a sumo wrestler but hey, whatever.
Incidentally why is it so wrong to say that a female baby is a "big strong girl". Ever try saying that one? It's like you're saying "hey I've just noticed that your daughter is a big fat dyke. I can see that she's a breath away from letting her body hair get to unflattering lengths and start listening to angry girl rock" I thought, growing was supposed to be a good thing! Maybe not in girls.
In other news concerning dirty femmo stuff, I was intrigued by a column in Sunday's Age by Angela Pippos "What's Wrong with Being a Fashionista Feminist Anyway?" where she addresses just how diverse feminists are in this era. She also says
I'm a feminist. Was that so hard?
It's really not a big deal. I simply believe that women should be given the same opportunities as men. Throw me in in the river and see if I float. It's hardly radical but, in my experience, any mention of the "f" word in male company can bring on a type of behaviour often seen in a David Attenborough documentary, followed by a sudden attack of mundane questioning".
She goes on to list a few examples of questioning she is immediately dealt by affronted men "Do you expect men to open doors for you?" "Do you want a man to pay for dinner on a first date?" etc. You know the typical questions asked of femnos that makes everyone want to stab their eyes out. What really interests me about her column is the underlying question for me about feminism. Why is it still a dirty word? Yes, I'm being serious. In all my years of being a feminist I've never met one who hates men. I've never met one who burns her bra. I've never met one who spends all night planing to picket the local men's club or any of the other stereotypes that are prescribed to so called ..here is comes "feminazis". Do I know lesbian femmos? Of course. Does that mean ALL feminists are gay? Do I know femmos who are frustrated by the status quo and frustrated by some perceptions perpetrated by men. Hell yes, does that mean that they are frustrated with men in general? Pssssh, I don't think so. I hate that type of generalising of feminists that happens but actually has little grounds in reality.
I don't know about you but when I hear the old "you're a man hater" (often comes in a feminist type entry) and it's been written here on this journal as well me reading it on so many other feminist blogs that I've lost count - I often think that the person writing it either has shit for brains, doesn't actually KNOW any feminists or rather...doesn't KNOW any women AT ALL or that maybe..just maybe THEY don't really like women all that much themselves, or feel threatened by them expressing an opinion - whatever. The fact that I *am* a feminist and I don't actually know ANY feminists who hate men NOR do I hate them myself sort of makes me wonder why on earth that's a phrase that is so easily thrown around by others when confronted with someone who claims to be a feminist? I mean I always hear about these so-called feminists who are supposed to hate men, usually it comes in the form of "yeah I know a feminist who hates men" but you know..it's sort of like an urban myth to me. Have you heard the one about the lady with the boil on her face that exploded and 50 tiny spiders came out? Yeah, that common. If anything feminists have so much problem in appearing a unified group with unifying beliefs in the first place that *men* aren't even the issue. It's women and what women think that is more of an issue.
Perhaps it's that feminist discourse is centered around the fact that things are not quite right in the world of woman. That there are certain issues that affect our gender and those issues maybe be life threatening or indeed socially confining to women. Maybe there's some resentment too, that women get the focus for this type of discourse? The fact that they are discussed might be a little too confronting for some people and confused with hate - when really it's not about hate at all, it's about getting answers and asking WHY does this happen to women? Is that a wrong question to ask? I certainly don't think so. It does NOT negate the FACT that things happen to men too and that is an important point. That in fact we are all individuals who have shit happen to us at some stage or another and that there are issues for men that are just as concerning that in fact SHOULD be discussed too. They should be discussed by the same people that are complaining that are sick of hearing about women's issues and say that yeah, men have issues too can't you see that? Well, dude, discuss away! Indeed, asking why the world is a certain way is not about hating anyone. It's about trying to get answers about how things are and perhaps start discourse that will affect change. One can only hope anyway.
I know that discussions about rape, prostitution, maternity leave and domestic violence gets a lot of backs up, especially with men but the fact of the matter is that these things DO happen and they DO happen mostly to women and the fact that we make up more than half the population means that it's something that everyone should be worried about. These are things that SHOULD be discussed widely and without refrain. It happens and the fact that it happens disturbingly often to one gender over another is a cause for feminist discourse. Live with it! I've read so many "anti-feminist" blogs (mostly written by anonymous people with anonymous comments - just goes to show doesn't it?) that will reference one article where a woman has beaten her husband in a show of domestic violence. Yes it happens and this is horrible. I don't want to diminish that - but the anti-feminist blogger will then say (and this happens in almost 100 percent of all anti-feminist bloggers) something along the lines of "and now you see why I refuse to get involved with all women. Women are evil etc etc". This is in direct opposition to most feminist blogs which takes issue on women's issues in society and how that affects us and in fact are a celebration of female achievement in the arts and culture. They are positive places that actually reserve any condensation of men to specific examples ie: THIS MAN said something not quite right about women. THIS MAN is wrong. Whereas the anti-feminist blogs that I've read are all about generalising one act to mean *all* women and being defensive about it too. Perhaps I've yet to come across a anti-feminist blog that is about being male positive instead of female negative. I'm know that there are some feminist blogs that really ARE venomous about a lot of things too, including men but definitely not the popular ones. The popular feminist blogs are generally very political places that invite discussion by men and indeed a lot of them have a dedicated male following too.
For the record I have read many male written gender positive blogs that have nothing to do with anti-feminism - they don't shy away from bringing up issues that are specific to men either! They are great and there should be more of them. They write about male and female issues with sex, violence and everything in between and they are so great because they don't fall into that age old trap of 'what I admire about women is their breasts, bum, legs, they look beautiful, they smell beautiful' - which is quite typical in what DOES tend to get written about women from a male perspective. I mean that kind of blog is great and all but male blogs that go beyond that REALLY need to be applauded for being so great - and they're not great because I agree with them, because I don't always, they're great because they are truthful without falling into "all feminists are bitches" type rhetoric.
Considering that not all feminists are the same, nor do any of the old stereotypes stand up why is it that the F-word is still a dirty one?
Anyway, on to Musical Monday in this haphazard post of mine. Of course, let's just complete the entry with a reference to Kat Bjelland; an artist I'm pretty much so in awe of I can't quite figure out the right words. She looks like an angel but has the voice of a terrifying demon. That's the best I can come up with. In the early days she cavorted around with Courtney Love and Jennifer Finch experimenting in a couple of bands before all went their separate ways and all became highly influential artists in their own right, with their own bands. I sigh here as I make the distinction and say they were 'female centered' bands - grrl rock if you will. Why? Oh because I've featured many, many bands who have all male members and sing about manly things but never distinguished them by saying 'all male' or 'male centered'. It's funny how these distinctions work in rock for women as opposed to men but there you have it.
Babes in Toyland had been around for a good many years before I got into them. I was completely taken with Kat Bjelland and in particular her rock operatic meets screaming banshee type singing voice.
She was a cheerleader in high school by the way.
A cheerleader AND a dirty femmo too. Oh my god, is your mind about to explode? Yes, it's true, us dirty femmos aren't just one type of person. I guess, that was my whole point. Mother's can be feminists. Hot girls can be feminists. Women who love men can be feminists. Scientists can be feminists. Radio personalities can be feminists. Men can be feminists. Cheerleaders can be feminists. It's not just one type of person. And for the record I've read many a comment implying that those people mentioned above CAN'T be feminists - like mum's can't be feminists. ha! Well I'm linking right here to a GREAT entry by a femmo mum who outlines some great points about how to raise your daughter a feminist and you know what? The initial question about 'how do I raise my daughter a feminist?' came from a bloke. How's that for breaking down a few barriers. Yes folks, it's not actually about man hating. Sorry to disappoint - on with the music.
Bruise Violet - Babes In Toyland (apparently not about Courtney Love..but I doubt it! lol).
Sweet 69 - Babes in Toyland
Labels: babies, dirty femmo, girls and women, messy women, musical monday, real women, vicious women, what women want, why, why do people get so touchy when it comes to talking about these things?, women
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
The 50ft Queenie
Around the time when I got into PJ Harvey there was a lot of talk in the media about "women in rock". Wow, like the final frontier had been crossed ...or something. The suffragettes had infiltrated the sacred guitar scene - lord, apparently getting the vote wasn't enough they just HAD to go the axe too.A lot of these so called women in rock talked about being role models for young girls who had few female guitarists to look up to. Of course, they were right. You can find women there in the rock scene. They are there. It's just that they aren't necessarily always where you can see them. It's not so much a lack of women in the music business but that not a lot of fame was ever attributed to women who wrote their own stuff, played their own instruments and did their own thing and all without a stylist - unless of course these women were already stunning in their own right. Image is harder to control in an "artist" than in a "product" and for women there has always been this compromise between the two when it comes to fame. Even for those that start out as artists, soon we see the product emerge in a little fashion tip here or there, a good colourist and finally losing about 20 pounds (whether she needed it or not) and a boob job just because she was "doing it for herself". One doesn't see a whole lot of meatloaf women or Alice cooper women in the mainstream and yet, they exist - believe me.
Anyway, it was the mid-late 90s and I was in a phase of musical discovery and was especially looking for artists which impressed me with their music rather than their lipstick. I was feeling a bit rebellious. Okay, sure maybe for women it will always be about both, but in my mind if there's a bazillion (butt ugly) male musicians out there who garner reverence for their talent, I don't see why there can't be the same for women. And yet, there are still only a handful of these women out there and I wonder if it's because women are out there but are overlooked because they aren't pretty enough to market or whether they AREN'T out there because ROCK isn't pretty enough for THEM. The later scares the shit out of me actually.
But anyway, I spent a lot of time in those mid 90s years in record stores, often picking up new albums at whim to give them a try. Maybe I liked the look of the cover, or had vaguely heard of the artist but of none of the songs, or maybe it was a one off recommendation... Whatever the reason, it was a fun way to spend my disposable cash.
I picked up Dry by PJ Harvey one golden afternoon after a rather long day at uni. I brought it home and listened to it without skipping one track. It was dark, deep, desperate, soulful and red, red raw - which was how men tended to serve their rock, but not women - not so much anyway. It was almost ugly and I just loved it for that. The album art itself *is* ugly, sickly - PJ's dry raw lips framed by a greenish zombie like chin and cheek - which by the way is in direct contrast to her Down By the Water video clip, where she is pristine and beautiful. I do love me some PJ Harvey beautiful or not but for me, it will always be about the album Dry.
I love, love, love this song.
Oh My Lover - PJ Harvey
(...not for the faint hearted)
Labels: gender stuff, girls and women, messy women, musical monday
Saturday, November 24, 2007
politics and sexual politics
Today I went to do my civic duty by voting I witnessed something so horrific that 4 hours later I'm still not sure I'm over it. There was NO sausage sizzle at the polling booth. Cake stall; yes. Sausage Sizzle; NO. How can they call themselves a polling booth if they don't offer a lovely burnt to perfection with a choice of tomato sauce with or without onions sausage sizzle? I don't understand how they sleep at night. I'm just disappointed and upset by the whole thing and feel it is all very unAustralian. Even if I personally am not partaking in the sausage fest then I like to know that others in my electorate have the option to chow down if they want. Cake stall: Who wants a flipping cake stall? There's no enjoyment in a fruitcake...not like a nice hot sausage between a slice of tip top bread dripping with sauce and creating a sense of community spirit when you all stand around and laugh at the cronies handing out the vote Liberal pamphlets.
I know that the school I work at is having a sausage sizzle because I had to paint the bloody sign informing the general public of the event, so it confuses me that my local isn't having one. Who are these barbarians?
So, yes - it's election day. We have a choice between an ear wax eater and a man who has never invited his own deputy over for tea in the last 10+ years of working together. Fuck all other policies - I mean the fact Howard is war mongering, semi-retired, cricket loving, upper middle class serving man who enjoys being sodomized by the US Prez has a lot to do with it too - but the dinner thing well, I think that's just disgraceful. Mrs Howard has come out and said that she and the hon. Johnny haven't invited Pete and wife over for tea because they don't ever have foursomes at their home for dinner parties. Yes, this was the official bullshit excuse. It's not like they have to be best friends or anything but I assumed that there would be some bond to speak of since they are running the country together. After all, if the Libs stay in power the reigns will be handed over to Pete in a minute. Good to know there's a lot of communication going on between them behind closed doors so a smooth transition happens. No thanks, I voted for ear wax guy instead. At least we know his ears are clean enough to listen...well, they are NOW.
EDIT - convo I had with my bro earlier.
bro - so hey, I think this girl thought I was stalking her.
me - um...whaaa?
bro - yeah, it was the other day when I was meeting you for dinner and I got off the bus at a different spot from where I usually do so I could walk to the restaurant.
me - okay...
bro - anyway, I think this girl thought I was following her.
me - *laughing* riiight, did she stare at you or something?
bro - yeah, she was looking over her shoulder at me while I was walking behind her. She was really freaked out.
me - no shit *laughing*.
bro - it's not funny! I don't want to be a stalker
me - *laughing even harder* whatever. So what happened?
bro - she ran.
me - RAN? Like....ran?
bro - yeah, the thing is I tried to walk slower so that it wouldn't freak her out and then I thought I'd cross the road so I was away from her but at the last second she crossed too - so it looked like I was following her across the road. She saw me do it and then she ran.
me - oh my god, that's tragic. You stalking bastard, you have fucked her shit up good.
bro - why does she have to be so paranoid?
me - are you fucking kidding me? You have no idea what it's like to be a girl walking down a deserted street alone? If I hear heavy footsteps behind me I always grab my keys and hold them between my fingers, ready to punch. I always walk faster. I can't believe you don't know this!
bro - yeah, but that's just you.
me - bullshit, you fuck.
bro - but I'm not a stalker! I'm not doing anything wrong.
me - duh, you're just there, that's enough. She doesn't know you. She doesn't care who you are. You're just some guy walking down a totally deserted street behind her. It's not like it was in the middle of Collins St or something. You're asking her to trust you to walk behind her when in the real world women walking alone down a deserted street might be rape victims. Especially around THAT area. Why would she trust YOU?
bro - I didn't ask her to trust me! I just don't want her to freak out.
me - yeah, well maybe in a society where men don't prey on women she could walk down the street without freaking out.
bro - yeah, I know that this is an issue but...
me - sure, you *know* it's an issue but it's not something you actually ever have to deal with. It's not part of your reality of walking alone. It's part of her reality. Okay, you will rarely see a woman actually RUN but they're probably thinking 'hm..this could be dodgy, or 'oh shit' somewhere in their heads. Just because women don't always show their fear doesn't mean they aren't scared. She might have had an experience with an attacker or maybe her friend did.
bro - yeah well, I'm just saying I'm not a stalker.
me - well stop stalking people then.
bro - you suck.
me - yeah, bring it up at the next meeting of the men's alliance when you're talking about ruling the world hahahaha.
bro - haha, you're an idiot. But seriously, now I have a problem
me - what's that?
bro - I take her bus everyday. So every day from now on I have to deal with her thinking that I'm stalking her.
me - hahaha, that rules. Are you going to be like "hey I noticed you thought I was stalking you the other day but I just wanted you to know that I'm really normal".
bro - haha, noooo
me - go on, it would be cool. See if she reports you.
bro - I can't believe I have to deal with this shit now. I did nothing wrong.
me - yeah yeah whatever, no sympathy for stalkers.
I know that the school I work at is having a sausage sizzle because I had to paint the bloody sign informing the general public of the event, so it confuses me that my local isn't having one. Who are these barbarians?
So, yes - it's election day. We have a choice between an ear wax eater and a man who has never invited his own deputy over for tea in the last 10+ years of working together. Fuck all other policies - I mean the fact Howard is war mongering, semi-retired, cricket loving, upper middle class serving man who enjoys being sodomized by the US Prez has a lot to do with it too - but the dinner thing well, I think that's just disgraceful. Mrs Howard has come out and said that she and the hon. Johnny haven't invited Pete and wife over for tea because they don't ever have foursomes at their home for dinner parties. Yes, this was the official bullshit excuse. It's not like they have to be best friends or anything but I assumed that there would be some bond to speak of since they are running the country together. After all, if the Libs stay in power the reigns will be handed over to Pete in a minute. Good to know there's a lot of communication going on between them behind closed doors so a smooth transition happens. No thanks, I voted for ear wax guy instead. At least we know his ears are clean enough to listen...well, they are NOW.
EDIT - convo I had with my bro earlier.
bro - so hey, I think this girl thought I was stalking her.
me - um...whaaa?
bro - yeah, it was the other day when I was meeting you for dinner and I got off the bus at a different spot from where I usually do so I could walk to the restaurant.
me - okay...
bro - anyway, I think this girl thought I was following her.
me - *laughing* riiight, did she stare at you or something?
bro - yeah, she was looking over her shoulder at me while I was walking behind her. She was really freaked out.
me - no shit *laughing*.
bro - it's not funny! I don't want to be a stalker
me - *laughing even harder* whatever. So what happened?
bro - she ran.
me - RAN? Like....ran?
bro - yeah, the thing is I tried to walk slower so that it wouldn't freak her out and then I thought I'd cross the road so I was away from her but at the last second she crossed too - so it looked like I was following her across the road. She saw me do it and then she ran.
me - oh my god, that's tragic. You stalking bastard, you have fucked her shit up good.
bro - why does she have to be so paranoid?
me - are you fucking kidding me? You have no idea what it's like to be a girl walking down a deserted street alone? If I hear heavy footsteps behind me I always grab my keys and hold them between my fingers, ready to punch. I always walk faster. I can't believe you don't know this!
bro - yeah, but that's just you.
me - bullshit, you fuck.
bro - but I'm not a stalker! I'm not doing anything wrong.
me - duh, you're just there, that's enough. She doesn't know you. She doesn't care who you are. You're just some guy walking down a totally deserted street behind her. It's not like it was in the middle of Collins St or something. You're asking her to trust you to walk behind her when in the real world women walking alone down a deserted street might be rape victims. Especially around THAT area. Why would she trust YOU?
bro - I didn't ask her to trust me! I just don't want her to freak out.
me - yeah, well maybe in a society where men don't prey on women she could walk down the street without freaking out.
bro - yeah, I know that this is an issue but...
me - sure, you *know* it's an issue but it's not something you actually ever have to deal with. It's not part of your reality of walking alone. It's part of her reality. Okay, you will rarely see a woman actually RUN but they're probably thinking 'hm..this could be dodgy, or 'oh shit' somewhere in their heads. Just because women don't always show their fear doesn't mean they aren't scared. She might have had an experience with an attacker or maybe her friend did.
bro - yeah well, I'm just saying I'm not a stalker.
me - well stop stalking people then.
bro - you suck.
me - yeah, bring it up at the next meeting of the men's alliance when you're talking about ruling the world hahahaha.
bro - haha, you're an idiot. But seriously, now I have a problem
me - what's that?
bro - I take her bus everyday. So every day from now on I have to deal with her thinking that I'm stalking her.
me - hahaha, that rules. Are you going to be like "hey I noticed you thought I was stalking you the other day but I just wanted you to know that I'm really normal".
bro - haha, noooo
me - go on, it would be cool. See if she reports you.
bro - I can't believe I have to deal with this shit now. I did nothing wrong.
me - yeah yeah whatever, no sympathy for stalkers.
Labels: bro, conversations, disgust, election day, gender stuff, girls and women, petty, political musings, rape, sausage sizzle, yes I am taking politics, Yoko woman
Sunday, October 14, 2007
I guess I'm lying to myself
* Saturday morning in Melbourne town saw me braving the western subs for a bit of brekkie, coffee - and apparently a trip of self discovery. For it was on this day while perusing the more unsavory of the Melbourne newspapers that I spied a "What Kind Of Personality Are You?" type test. Being a student of psychology and no stranger to the myriad of different personality tests out there - pushed on me via the route of "lab requirements" of unimelb undergrad psych, I thought what any other sane and rational person would think when faced with a personality test in their morning paper; oh goodie!.
With only 12 questions the test promised to tell me who I was. Since I'm always up for being told who or what I am I looked around left and right, before quickly pocketing the offending page and quickly finishing off my eggs.
So I took the test and here's what I found out:
I display very high levels of Neuroticism and Openness and high levels of Agreeableness. I score quite low on Conscientiousness and Extraversion. All this seems by and large on the money. I am a worrier, analytical and a thinker hence the neurotic label. Indeed I'm also very open to different kinds of people and ideas. I have strong opinions but am not actually judgemental when it comes down to it - which all apparently makes me 'open'. Agreeableness is related to being sympathetic and helping others (hello! Teacher!). I'm not known for being organised, methodological or being anally retentive and am also not known for screaming 'here I am' when I enter a room so it's only fair I score low on Extraversion and conscientiousness.
All this, I have no issue with - but then I had a look at the pictures which accompanied the personality blurbs. This is what represents me.
So yes, after seeing those pictures I felt very well adjusted and normal didn't I? Don't worry about me - my recipe is apparently: One part Herman Munster, One part alien worshiping wack job and One part little Miss "I Psychotically love you to DEATH". Stir with swivel stick, drink and call the paramedics immediately.
* Anyway I was a tad traumatised after doing the test so was looking forward to some friendly company at dinner that night. Finally the group was going to meet L's new man. He was lovely and it was also lovely to see my friend B, who was down from QLD for a visit. Bonus of Bonuses, she turned up to the dinner with my star chart (she's a qualified astrologer). Oh goodie, another personality test - without actually having to take the test! Anyway, she starts the conversation with "you're a dark horse aren't you?" and ends with "we've been underestimating you for a long time" - which, may I add makes me feel like a bit of a fraud for some reason. Everyone went a little silent and looked at me quizzically for a while (trying to figure out my dark horse side, probably). I wonder if she was referring to my Herman Munster side.
B did tell me something that has made me want to change myself for the better though. She said that I find it hard to let people go. I have done a lot of self analysis and soul searching in my life and I had never really thought of myself in these terms. Weird I know, but as soon as she said it I knew it was true. Funny how revelations only ever feel like an anvil falling on your head but it's true, I do find it incredibly hard to let people go. I'd love to think of myself as a love 'em and leave 'em - and who really cares about 'em anyway.. type girl but I'm not. I embrace any kind of affection that comes my way - even if it's bad for me. There are a lot of reasons for this, not least the lack of affection shown to me during my own childhood and my need to feel that someone finds me worthy of their time. I've seen friends of mine go through the whole 'going back to people who make you feel bad about yourself' thing with men and the like, advising them to have the strength to say no.. when all the while it was me too. I don't want to be that girl. Closer to the case - I don't want to be her ...anymore. I don't need anymore fair weather friends. They tear me apart.
I thought about this all night, and all of today. I guess I have to be a stronger person - maybe I have to let that "agreeableness" part of me go a little and be less agreeable and be less open. Those people that use me shouldn't be welcomed by me with open arms ever again and those people that don't see my good qualities - well, it's their loss isn't it? I shouldn't see myself for being at fault just because THEY are idiotic. Stop making excuses for other people's mistakes, that's basically what I have to do.
* Meanwhile and since it's all about me today: on Idol (I know, please don't hate me for using Idol as my Musical Monday crutch for two weeks in a row) they had 'choose music from the year you were born. I thought it was a smashing idea and I've come up with a song from a band I've been meaning to do for a while now. The Rolling Stones.
I'm certainly no hardcore fan, as you will probably tell when you hear my song choice but one of my very earliest memories I have of myself enjoying music is while I was listening to The Rolling Stones. It was the 80s, I was wearing my pajamas and jumping up and down on the couch with my bro to Start me Up, which happened to be playing on Countdown one night. I did think it was an excellent song - even though I sang Stompio (hence the stomping on the couch) instead of Start me Up, but that's just a technicality surely. I mean Mick probably sang the wrong words half the time too. As for Keith, good christ, did he ever know the words? (God love 'em) But I digress. That was the early me.
In my mid teens I re-discovered them when I was going through my 60s rock and I'm depressed with the world phase. In fact Paint it Black was a constant fixture in the soundtrack of my life around that time. I can't even being to tell you how many times I listened to that one. And of course at 18-ish when I decided that Get Off My Cloud would be my theme song (I might take it up again). Then again, at 19 sitting on the floor of some filthy bungalow down by the beach singing along to As Tears Go By being played beautifully on guitar by a sad friend. And lately, with this one - 1978, my year. I love everything about it, the slightly bluesy influence, the sexy beat and all the lyrics; yes every single one - even the Peurto Rican girls just dyyyyyyyyyyyyyin' to meet you. Love it.
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
So you see, they've been around for a while; The Rolling Stones. Never really at the forefront of my life but there, behind the scenes, definitely in the soundtrack - a perfect accompaniment. Don't you just love it when must does that?
err sorry, slip of the button... what I meant was..
With only 12 questions the test promised to tell me who I was. Since I'm always up for being told who or what I am I looked around left and right, before quickly pocketing the offending page and quickly finishing off my eggs.
So I took the test and here's what I found out:
I display very high levels of Neuroticism and Openness and high levels of Agreeableness. I score quite low on Conscientiousness and Extraversion. All this seems by and large on the money. I am a worrier, analytical and a thinker hence the neurotic label. Indeed I'm also very open to different kinds of people and ideas. I have strong opinions but am not actually judgemental when it comes down to it - which all apparently makes me 'open'. Agreeableness is related to being sympathetic and helping others (hello! Teacher!). I'm not known for being organised, methodological or being anally retentive and am also not known for screaming 'here I am' when I enter a room so it's only fair I score low on Extraversion and conscientiousness.
All this, I have no issue with - but then I had a look at the pictures which accompanied the personality blurbs. This is what represents me.
Neurotic
Yeah, hi that's the Neurotic me a cross between Herman Munster and THE GRINCH. Don't make any sudden movements or I'll rain all over you with my big black cloud of doom. I'm so Emo, now where the hell is my blacker than black eyeliner?
Openness
Hi again, when I read 'open' I thought, open to new ideas and all people - but apparently it just means that I'm about to join the Ralean sect. It also means I am a little bit wacko (look into my eyes...if you can find my wonky pupils that is) and am either into mooncakes or have stolen some kind of meterorite from the astronomical section of the Scienceworks museum. We've been observing your earth, and we'd like to make contact with youuuu.
Agreeableness
Oh, I'm so huggy aren't I? Come here, let me hug you! Come onnnnnnn! COME HERE I WANT TO HUG YOU!! I WAAANNNNAA HUUUUUUG!! PLEASE SNUGGLE WITH ME!!! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? Where?.... oh.. :( Actually, ..there is a reason why I have the profile photo that I do.
So yes, after seeing those pictures I felt very well adjusted and normal didn't I? Don't worry about me - my recipe is apparently: One part Herman Munster, One part alien worshiping wack job and One part little Miss "I Psychotically love you to DEATH". Stir with swivel stick, drink and call the paramedics immediately.
* Anyway I was a tad traumatised after doing the test so was looking forward to some friendly company at dinner that night. Finally the group was going to meet L's new man. He was lovely and it was also lovely to see my friend B, who was down from QLD for a visit. Bonus of Bonuses, she turned up to the dinner with my star chart (she's a qualified astrologer). Oh goodie, another personality test - without actually having to take the test! Anyway, she starts the conversation with "you're a dark horse aren't you?" and ends with "we've been underestimating you for a long time" - which, may I add makes me feel like a bit of a fraud for some reason. Everyone went a little silent and looked at me quizzically for a while (trying to figure out my dark horse side, probably). I wonder if she was referring to my Herman Munster side.
B did tell me something that has made me want to change myself for the better though. She said that I find it hard to let people go. I have done a lot of self analysis and soul searching in my life and I had never really thought of myself in these terms. Weird I know, but as soon as she said it I knew it was true. Funny how revelations only ever feel like an anvil falling on your head but it's true, I do find it incredibly hard to let people go. I'd love to think of myself as a love 'em and leave 'em - and who really cares about 'em anyway.. type girl but I'm not. I embrace any kind of affection that comes my way - even if it's bad for me. There are a lot of reasons for this, not least the lack of affection shown to me during my own childhood and my need to feel that someone finds me worthy of their time. I've seen friends of mine go through the whole 'going back to people who make you feel bad about yourself' thing with men and the like, advising them to have the strength to say no.. when all the while it was me too. I don't want to be that girl. Closer to the case - I don't want to be her ...anymore. I don't need anymore fair weather friends. They tear me apart.
I thought about this all night, and all of today. I guess I have to be a stronger person - maybe I have to let that "agreeableness" part of me go a little and be less agreeable and be less open. Those people that use me shouldn't be welcomed by me with open arms ever again and those people that don't see my good qualities - well, it's their loss isn't it? I shouldn't see myself for being at fault just because THEY are idiotic. Stop making excuses for other people's mistakes, that's basically what I have to do.
* Meanwhile and since it's all about me today: on Idol (I know, please don't hate me for using Idol as my Musical Monday crutch for two weeks in a row) they had 'choose music from the year you were born. I thought it was a smashing idea and I've come up with a song from a band I've been meaning to do for a while now. The Rolling Stones.
I'm certainly no hardcore fan, as you will probably tell when you hear my song choice but one of my very earliest memories I have of myself enjoying music is while I was listening to The Rolling Stones. It was the 80s, I was wearing my pajamas and jumping up and down on the couch with my bro to Start me Up, which happened to be playing on Countdown one night. I did think it was an excellent song - even though I sang Stompio (hence the stomping on the couch) instead of Start me Up, but that's just a technicality surely. I mean Mick probably sang the wrong words half the time too. As for Keith, good christ, did he ever know the words? (God love 'em) But I digress. That was the early me.
In my mid teens I re-discovered them when I was going through my 60s rock and I'm depressed with the world phase. In fact Paint it Black was a constant fixture in the soundtrack of my life around that time. I can't even being to tell you how many times I listened to that one. And of course at 18-ish when I decided that Get Off My Cloud would be my theme song (I might take it up again). Then again, at 19 sitting on the floor of some filthy bungalow down by the beach singing along to As Tears Go By being played beautifully on guitar by a sad friend. And lately, with this one - 1978, my year. I love everything about it, the slightly bluesy influence, the sexy beat and all the lyrics; yes every single one - even the Peurto Rican girls just dyyyyyyyyyyyyyin' to meet you. Love it.
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
So you see, they've been around for a while; The Rolling Stones. Never really at the forefront of my life but there, behind the scenes, definitely in the soundtrack - a perfect accompaniment. Don't you just love it when must does that?
err sorry, slip of the button... what I meant was..
Labels: aries is the best chuck out the rest, beach, blurry girl, change, childhood, choices, conversations, divination, friends, girls and women, idol, mixed bag of me, musical monday, newspaper, personal
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
quatro
* I had a strange blogger dream last night. It involved a mass blogger meet up, but felt more like High school. I liked High School in so far that I was totally happy doing my dance and drama, hanging out with my friends, singing show tunes in class and laughing a lot.. a hell of a lot (obviously I wasn't one of the popular elite). Apart from that I pretty much hated everyone else in High School and much like Erica Yurken from my one of my favourite childhood novels Hating Alison Ashley, I was always in the sick bay with a made up illness of some sort hoping to get out of 6th period Science with Mr K (he wore canary yellow).
The blogger meet up reminded me a little of my 10 year High School reunion (yes, unfortunately I did go...). I recognised some people, I think I recognised others and some I had no idea about. The whole thing was rather awkwardly surreal and I felt a little out of place. Which is incidentally how I alway feel - so at least that wasn't new. Just when things were looking very sad indeed Helena Bonham Carter turned up and sat right next to me. I'm not sure if she has a blog or not but it was marvelous of her anyway. She kelp scrunching her curls and looked a little flustered and distracted though - which funnily enough is exactly how I feel at the moment.
* The movie project is due tomorrow. Today, the new Dawson Leary was instructed to chain himself to the computer and edit the thing until it was done (day...what? 8 of editing?). Of course I was stuck in the AR with a bunch of homicidal children also known as my grade 3 art class (yes, yes okay fine I was the homicidal one) who for some reason were all concentrated on two girls in the grade squabbling with each other.
I got rather sick of the back and forth "but she said..." stuff and in a moment of utter frustration exclaimed to the whole grade in a loud and rather hysterical voice OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE (would love to swear for once), AS A MATTER Of INTEREST PUT UP YOUR HAND IF YOU ARE ANNOYED BY * and * ARGUING? Every single child in the grade put up their hand including one of the said squabblers (amusing). Then I put up my hand and so did the parent helper who had come in to do a yarn spinning demonstration (haha). The other squabbler and only person with their hand down looked mortified. I stopped the Art lesson right there and we talked about ways to avoid getting into arguments. It was the first time in a while for that grade that everyone worked cooperatively to come up with a solution (amazing how 'if you don't get along maybe don't sit together' is such a simple solution and and yet so effective). I'm not sure if highlighting that the whole class basically thought these two girls were idiots was the right way to go in teacher-land but sometimes kids need a dose of reality. They were being idiots.
Anyway, being stuck in the AR with a bunch of children meant that I could not keep an eye on Dawson Leary II and the movie editing. So when I turned up to the lab and saw him working on the DIRECTORS CUT of our 3 minute movie (including bloopers and outtakes and a credit reel, gangsta style) I went ballistic! Meanwhile the actual movie wasn't yet finished and I had big problems with a missing consent of release form (which by the way is still missing and by the way the fate of our movie depends on me finding it). So the film is still not finished and we are down a consent of release form. I have no way of actually supervising these children AND teach a grade at the same time AND actually get the tape to the co-ordinator all by tomorrow so the only thing left for me to do is have a complete nervous breakdown. Dawson Leary II, saw me hitting my head against the table today and said Oh Miss F, you and *producer* both stress too much! Doooooooooooontworryaboutit!. Serenity now! How do I get myself into these things?
* I had my review with Prin yesterday afternoon. I prepared like a champion (which means not starting the thinking process until about midnight the night before, pulling an all nighter and working through my lunch break and planning hour the next day) and we had a fine chat about next year. If she doesn't change her mind (anything goes with Prin) then I shall be back in the classroom next year with a day out of the room every week to supervise a Media Art extension group. This is very exciting and should keep me interested and challenged next year - and also answers the aforementioned question: How do I get myself into these things? Sigh. Surely Dawson Leary III will be a winner.
* It's amazing just how many people are searching for that blasted Maddison Gabriel on the net and coming up with my journal. Wouldn't it be great if they WEREN'T looking for child porn and instead were motivated by a distaste of the fashion and beauty industry and the unrealistic pressures it puts on women? Wouldn't it be fabulous if every one of them said 'hey, you know - this sucks and so I'm going to be outspoken about this too'? That would be great. God, I hope they're not looking for porn.
The blogger meet up reminded me a little of my 10 year High School reunion (yes, unfortunately I did go...). I recognised some people, I think I recognised others and some I had no idea about. The whole thing was rather awkwardly surreal and I felt a little out of place. Which is incidentally how I alway feel - so at least that wasn't new. Just when things were looking very sad indeed Helena Bonham Carter turned up and sat right next to me. I'm not sure if she has a blog or not but it was marvelous of her anyway. She kelp scrunching her curls and looked a little flustered and distracted though - which funnily enough is exactly how I feel at the moment.
* The movie project is due tomorrow. Today, the new Dawson Leary was instructed to chain himself to the computer and edit the thing until it was done (day...what? 8 of editing?). Of course I was stuck in the AR with a bunch of homicidal children also known as my grade 3 art class (yes, yes okay fine I was the homicidal one) who for some reason were all concentrated on two girls in the grade squabbling with each other.
I got rather sick of the back and forth "but she said..." stuff and in a moment of utter frustration exclaimed to the whole grade in a loud and rather hysterical voice OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE (would love to swear for once), AS A MATTER Of INTEREST PUT UP YOUR HAND IF YOU ARE ANNOYED BY * and * ARGUING? Every single child in the grade put up their hand including one of the said squabblers (amusing). Then I put up my hand and so did the parent helper who had come in to do a yarn spinning demonstration (haha). The other squabbler and only person with their hand down looked mortified. I stopped the Art lesson right there and we talked about ways to avoid getting into arguments. It was the first time in a while for that grade that everyone worked cooperatively to come up with a solution (amazing how 'if you don't get along maybe don't sit together' is such a simple solution and and yet so effective). I'm not sure if highlighting that the whole class basically thought these two girls were idiots was the right way to go in teacher-land but sometimes kids need a dose of reality. They were being idiots.
Anyway, being stuck in the AR with a bunch of children meant that I could not keep an eye on Dawson Leary II and the movie editing. So when I turned up to the lab and saw him working on the DIRECTORS CUT of our 3 minute movie (including bloopers and outtakes and a credit reel, gangsta style) I went ballistic! Meanwhile the actual movie wasn't yet finished and I had big problems with a missing consent of release form (which by the way is still missing and by the way the fate of our movie depends on me finding it). So the film is still not finished and we are down a consent of release form. I have no way of actually supervising these children AND teach a grade at the same time AND actually get the tape to the co-ordinator all by tomorrow so the only thing left for me to do is have a complete nervous breakdown. Dawson Leary II, saw me hitting my head against the table today and said Oh Miss F, you and *producer* both stress too much! Doooooooooooontworryaboutit!. Serenity now! How do I get myself into these things?
* I had my review with Prin yesterday afternoon. I prepared like a champion (which means not starting the thinking process until about midnight the night before, pulling an all nighter and working through my lunch break and planning hour the next day) and we had a fine chat about next year. If she doesn't change her mind (anything goes with Prin) then I shall be back in the classroom next year with a day out of the room every week to supervise a Media Art extension group. This is very exciting and should keep me interested and challenged next year - and also answers the aforementioned question: How do I get myself into these things? Sigh. Surely Dawson Leary III will be a winner.
* It's amazing just how many people are searching for that blasted Maddison Gabriel on the net and coming up with my journal. Wouldn't it be great if they WEREN'T looking for child porn and instead were motivated by a distaste of the fashion and beauty industry and the unrealistic pressures it puts on women? Wouldn't it be fabulous if every one of them said 'hey, you know - this sucks and so I'm going to be outspoken about this too'? That would be great. God, I hope they're not looking for porn.
Labels: blogs, dirty femmo, friends, gender stuff, girls and women, media, miscellany, models, movies, school, stressed teachers, teacher dramas, Yoko woman
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Needing a Mother.
Here we have Maddison Gabriel. I bet if you were single you'd buy her a drink (or two) and flirt shamelessly with her if you came across her - or maybe you'd just sit back and perve - you're allowed it's what boys do, don't worry! I mean she has a great set of pins and I can say that because well she's on a catwalk and she's wearing a miniskirt and well...dude she's a model and she's there so that gay men can admire the dress, women can feel inferior (and yes okay admire the fashion) and straight men can oggle her legs. I know I'm not too far off the mark.The problem is that she's twelve.
This is a problem. This is a BIG problem because if a 12 year old is the best representative as the face of Gold Coast Fashion Week then it's no wonder that any women or girl over the age of 14 is completely and utterly fucked when it comes to body image. How in the hell can someone who might not even have her first period yet be a "model" that represents the rest of us? Kids are not the same as adults and I have a humongous problem with the 'if she's enjoying it then let her do it' argument that has been passed around. Okay, smartarses would you let your 12 year old get married to your 45 year old neighbour if she said she wanted to? Probably not..why? Because 12 is a kid and 12 has no idea what 12 wants and 12 needs to be protected even if 12 looks more like 18.
You don't see 12 year old boys representing 25 year old men on the catwalk do you? That's because
1) Society is not obsessed with men looking young.
2) Boys don't look like men.
Girls don't look like women either but this girl looks older than her years and that's the point. She has all the youth of 12 but with a body that looks slightly older no woman wants to actually look like a 12 year old tom boy but take a body of a 17 or 18 year old with the skin of a 12 year old and you have one big confusing message for women that is: "woman" as represented by the media can NEVER, EVER be achieved no matter how hard we try. Since "woman" represented by the media is our primary image/model for women in this society then that's a pretty fucked up message. The other prime image of women for women are our mothers, but more about that later.
Enter Maddison Gabriel; the perfect unreachable target which is the whole message of the modeling industry if you ask me. 30 year old skin does not have the same elasticity as 12 year old skin, though we'd love it to. There is a rather dangerous propensity for the media to admire and reward females who look younger than their age. Take a look at the straight up and down models who have graced the catwalks over the last 20 or so years. Thin, boyish and very weak looking. This to me screams of young girl. I don't understand how they can be our "models" but there you have it - apparently it makes the dresses hang better. I laugh my head off at this since it's actually women who end up wearing fashion on the streets, not bloody coat hangers.
Anyway, Maddison Gabriel has come out laughing about the whole deal because she thinks it's funny that anyone would be fussed with such a thing. Her mother is also perplexed by the furor in the media and is feeling as though next people will come out and say that she's a bad mother - when all she's doing is letting her daughter do something that SHE wants to do. Well said mum, I mean child stars are never known for going COMPLETELY off the rails are they? *cough*
You know what I wanted to do when I was 12? Marry Tom Selleck and eat only hubba bubba gum for the rest of my life. Yep, being 12 I really should have been allowed to pursue those dreams of mine. I'm still upset by not being allowed to eat only bubble gum and marry Tom Selleck - instead my mother made to stay in school and eat three balanced meals a day.
Speaking of needing mothers.
The best comment I have heard on Britney Spears has come from Tori Amos at her concert on Tuesday at Hamer Hall where she sang a little ditty as her response to the media laughing about Britney Spears. If you click on the link it takes you to Perez Hilton's site where there is audio of the song and the lyrics.Britney, they set you up
But you drank from their cup
Britney, they set you up
Oh, but this is what it looks like, love,
This is what is looks like
When a star falls down
When a star falls down
Well, maybe you’re a mother
But you still need your mother
Yes, I may be a mother
But I still need a mother
To pick me up
Yes, to pick me up
When it all falls down
I'm not one for excessive lyric posting but I thought this was all extremely topical not only for Britney and Maddison but for too many young female Hollywood stars who have fallen down in a heap over the past 5 years. Girls, what is going on? What are we becoming? Meg White has also eluded to this issue in the song Passive Manipulation where she sings
Women, listen to your mothers
don't just succumb to the wishes of your brothers
take a step back, take a look at one another
you need to know the difference, between a father and a lover
I know this is turning into a bit of a Musical Monday post but I have to say, yes I think there is definitely a place for politics in music and when put so eloquently then yes I agree. I found the Britney performance and subsequent media feeding frenzy sad because girls when Pete Doherty does it, people aren't laughing quite as hard at him are they? He's not regarded as pathetic, or as unhinged as Brit - though, clearly while he is talented he is that pathetic and unhinged.
I also came across this quote where Tori (again) says of Britney and other young starlets like her
"You see a lot of women today -- maybe in magazines -- crawling out of cars and thinking it's sexy," Amos recently told Spinner. "[And] for the most part, you don't hear guys going, 'Wow! I am just blown away by that beauty or by that woman's way. There's something about her.' No. Do you know what they do? They laugh. They laugh when we're spreading our legs and crawling out of a car. It's tragic. Ultimately, we demean ourselves."
What the hell is going on with these girls? Is it a lack of mothering that is to blame? Are we trying too hard to keep up with the boys? Are women just dumb? Is culture ripe for tearing women down while we support and encourage that with our own actions? Have we been set up? Should our role models be our mothers rather than our daughters and younger sisters?
Labels: Britney they set you up, comment, dirty femmo, girls and women, media, models, music, musical monday, political musings, pop culture, wonderings, Yoko woman
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