First world problems

I recently heard someone comment that they "wish people would stop whinging about their first world lives".

It's an interesting concept a first- world life.

Wikipedia says Terms similar to developed country include "advanced country", "industrialized country", "'more developed country" (MDC), "more economically developed country" (MEDC), "Global North country", "first world country", and "post-industrial country".

Australia ranks 2nd only behind Norway as the most "highly developed" country as at 2 November 2011 according to the IMF.

To take the statement on face value alone, it implies that everyone living in a developed country, such as most of Europe, Northern America, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, South Korea etc etc have nothing in their life that is justifiably "bad enough" to feel anything but happiness.

There's such a wide spectrum of things you could look at here though: from the twink who is too drunk to reapply his eyeliner nicely and states "FML" in the bathroom at a party, to residents in the North of Japan who have not only lost their homes, jobs and possibly family members in the recent Tsunami to having residual worries about radiation from the Fukushima Nuclear plant potentially affecting their and their children's lives for the perceivable future.

Both "problems" to the individuals involved, occuring in the "First world", but result in vastly different outcomes for the short and long term lives of the individuals.

What if you live in, for example, Greece? As a country likely to drop off several definitions of "first world" country soon, does this mean they suddenly have their problems justified for whinging about? Is poverty in Australia less worthy than poverty in Uzbekistan?

Perhaps a "first-world problem" is complaining about circumstances only likely to be encountered in highly developed countries, such as "I hate it when iTunes won't sync with my iPhone" or "the damned Government put a cap on the baby bonus, now my husband and I won't get it when our child is born, as we have a combined income of over $150k", or "I paid sooo much tax last year because my income is in the highest bracket". These would be more frivolous worries for sure.

At the end of the day, you never know what someone else's thoughts or feelings about an issue are, or what is happening in their life for a reaction to occur in a circumstanced you perceive it shouldn't. To say that someone else's problems are not valid is very insular and narrow minded. That person you see who appears to have a good life, but is depressed shouldn't "just get over it"- as you probably don't know what is really happening, and having a Mercedes or house does not solve all your problems.  Do you know they didn't recently lose a child, partner or friend? Do you know they don't have cancer, are living in an abusive situation or have been raped?


Consider the road less traveled- instead of socially ostracising them because you don't like to hear how they're feeling down, try listening, or even trying to understand. At the very least, try not to make it worse by being judgmental or bitchy!

A Cleansing Enema

When I lived in Asia, there was a certain cohort of individuals who would pop across to Thailand once or twice a year for a "retreat". At said retreat, they would receive daily enemas.

These individuals claimed that they went for the health benefits, and the refreshing cleansing it provided.

I don't know about you, but personally I don't find the idea of having a hose up my butt and having water pumped up there very refreshing. Never mind that they're probably using tap water in Asia to perform these procedures, which is not treated to the same standards as here, and would be likely to carry bacteria, parasites and if you're really lucky, there may even be other human fecal matter present, carrying something like hepatitis... Mmm- cleansing!

For those who know even the slightest bit about biology, you will probably know that to keep your bowels healthy you just need to have a good diet. The thing which "cleanses" if you like is fibre, as consumed through vegetables, fruit and grains. As these pass through the body, they will eventually exit in a natural fashion... that's right- exit- not enter- that way.

I'm going straight with the Wikipedia quote on this one, because it really cannot be put more clearly or accurately: No scientific evidence supports the alleged benefits of colon cleansing. The bowel itself is not dirty and barring drugs, disease or mechanical blockage, cleans itself naturally without assistance.

One individual told me you can get different "flavours" of enema, such as caffeine to "invigorate your system".

Okay, so firstly- your rectum can taste? Not that I've ever tried, but I'm imagining mine can't, so flavours may be going a lil far. Call me old fashioned perhaps, but personally I  DRINK my caffeine, and enjoy flavours through my MOUTH. Unless you happen to be other-than-the-front segment of a human caterpillar, I really see no purpose to the aforementioned flavouring!


As the survival of such clinics show, the industry is not suffering in the economic pressures since the GFC (that's global financial crisis, not Geelong Football Club btw, although they have been know to also give people the shits), and I was bemused by some advertising that popped up in my google research that said "Winter Cleanse Special - Bring A Friend Only $70 each". With the loss of popularity of open communal toilets since the Roman empire, I would have thought there are some things in this world that were not considered group activities, but it would appear not.

I would truly love to know what Sigmund Freud would have to say about these individuals, and about the existence of colonic irrigation clinics in general. It takes a truly "special" individual in my mind to pay someone to stick a hose up your butt- and a whole new level of stupidity.

Christmas with the Atheists

While this Christian festival has never had a religious meaning for me, that doesn't mean it is meaningless.

Aside from the chocolate, presents, turkey, salmon, chocolate, prawns, wine, chocolate, mince pies, pudding, chocolate, cherries, shortbread and chocolate, it's a time to think about family and friends, spending time to show that you care- mostly with chocolate.

I spent the morning at RSPCA sharing some love with some forgotten little souls, as the day would otherwise be a very lonely one for them- with no staff or visitors around to talk to them. Even more sad are those who are there because their family was going away and didn't want to pay for a boarding kennel, so dumped them instead.

On the way home I was dismayed, as always, with the way people were driving- maniacally swerving in and out of lanes, overtaking and speeding. If you are running 10 minutes late for lunch- so what? Do you really think that your presents will evaporate, lunch will be served without you or your family will kick you out because you arrived slightly after what you had planned?

As the original religiousity of this date has dwindled and petered out to near non-existence, and the capitalist spending flurry takes a rest between the present-shopping panic to the sales frenzy ahead, I thin a lot of people are missing the point. Think beyond not getting that CD you wanted, or how much you belly aches after gorging yourself too much, appreciate those around you and perhaps give a little love.

Fashion victims #2

This is beginning to look like a regular segment, as I am endlessly amused by the horrendous crap that people are inticed to part with their money for.

Introducing "Orange Mystique Pants ". I'm thinking to mystique is why someone would actually want to own them. Pink and orange are a nasty colour clash, and in this instance have been put together into something that personally I'd be ashamed to dress a toddler in.

Described as 100% silk, resort style glamour-  well at least this is somewhat honest. If by resort you mean sitting on the beach in thailand and being convinced that those fisherman pants etc they sell in the stalls nearby are an excellent investment, but inevitably on return to Australia they sit in the wardrobe never to reappear.

Much unlike the $5 Thai fisherman pant though, this article will set you back a whopping $178 AUD. Adding more evidence to the arguement that having wealth doth not indicate fiscal sense. Gold star to the clever designer for once again recognising that a fool and his money are easily parted.

The 100% silk says to me- this fabric, if worn on the beach or "resort", unlike your cheap cotton Thai fisherman pants, will cling to your sweaty arse and leave large butt-sweat patterns as well. Possibly camouflaged only by the nasty colours and patterns of the fabric itself the designer at least gets half a point for practicality there.

But on the topic of practicality, may I ask wtf this is?:

It appears to be some kind of footwear, and yet the hideousness of both the colour and the err... heel/ Platform/ Wedge concoction going on there makes it look far more like an appropriate weapon to club someone over the head with than put on your foot.

High heels were originally for men- short men such as Louis XIV who wanted to improve their manly stature by being less of a shortarse. Men soon realised that they were uncomfortable and impractical things to wear though, and as such, encouraged women to wear them, so they would be easier to "catch" as they had lost any ability to run away in such footwear.

The above article strikes me as being designed in this traditional sense, in that you are being made the victim or a cruel ruse- one that is designed to take advantage of your wallet in this case.

At least the following garment is fairly self- explanatory, in that it has its purpose and marketing strategy written all over it. Literally:

I believe "Holiday romance" is a polite paraphrase of "random shag" or "quick fuck" here, as certainly this dress is designed for- yes that's right folks, it's a dress, not a singlet, according to the designers.

Not only does it come with a premade advert for you as to what you're seeking, it further minimalises your tarting efforts being being both ludicrously short enough that you wouldn't even have to hitch it up- just part the thighs and pork away. Boob access is also evidently not hindered by such inconvenient things as sleeves, fastenings or... well... even fabric.

Fortunately (?) this item is available at the bargain price of $21.95 ( and, evidently, such is the price of your dignity) rendering it affordable to even the welfare-dependent tramps out there.

No hidden agendas here- actually no hidden anything. I recommend pairing this item with a Britney-esque lack of undergarments to maximise the effect.

Quote of the day- Richard Bach

 The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we're afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we'll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy.

-Richard Bach

Seems some concepts are timeless and universal.

Honesty vs Sexpectations

How honest do you really expect people to be?

As adults, if you have grown up in Australia, it is reasonable to assume that you will have had at least some level of education or information made available to you regarding STIs and how they are transmitted.

Even if you didn't grow up here, we have campaigns on the backs of toilet doors, accompanying con dom advertisements, and television- the media for the masses- with such famous campaigns as the Grim Reaper for HIV.

On a side note-

a more recent TV ad with underpants on a washing line telling us that 1 in 8 people has herpes.

http://www.thefacts.com.au/on-tv/

Someone in the office once commented on that ad, saying "yuck- I just wish they wouldn't play that when I'm watching TV, especially around dinner time ". Despite that individual's disgust, conversation ensued around the message of the ad, with people tlkaing about the 1 in 8 statistic. It can't be true- surely it's not. Why not I asked? It's a normal thing, and can happen to anyone. Oh sure but... [insert dismissive mumblings] was the general reply. Why not- I pressed, in fact on this floor in the office we have about 50 people? So statistically 5 or 6 people are living with it in this room alone.

Oh you cannot imagine the awkward silence that fell over everyone. Smiles and giggles gone, replaced by horrified blank faces, an almost universal avoidance of eye contact, followed by chairs rotating back to workstations as the distasteful thought settled in to their NIMBY-ist minds.

Had I really pushed them that far? The lack of willingness to accept a simple epidemiological reality was that troubling, in a room of people with an average of a Masters degree each, working in a health focused government agency?!

To return to the original complainant, who felt the ad made them uncomfortable. You don't want to have to think about it? Hmm... Don't you think that could perhaps be the POINT of the campaign? (Ok admittedly the campaign is froma  private company trying to sell a product to treat it, but part of the point...) We try to avoid reality. Things always happen to other people, not me or my friends.

So it's a reasonable assumption that people know these things are out there. What's not always known is:

i) if people know or acknowledge they have the infection. "err... it must be a sore from my underwear rubbing"

ii) if they will tell you they have it. "no of course I've never had an STI... no I've never had a test, but I would know...", "do you have condom?" "me either".... "oh well"

Most people's reactions to contracting something are:

a) embarrassment at having to seek treatment

b) feeling upset/ hurt that someone didn't tell them

What most will tend to overlook is their own personal responsibility in the situation. Why didn't you take the necessary steps to avoid the situation? You knew STIs existed, yet you chose not to use a condom.

Assuming someone will tell you is a nice idea, that the world operates in an open and honest way, but fairly naive, and possibly unreasonable too. If you know, with all the information available to you that there is a chance it will happen you should be reasonably expected to take some responsibility for the situation. This has also been tested legally, although the rulings are not always consistent- there have been cases where people have tried to sue the person who infected them with HIV, and lost- as they didn't take reasonable precautions to protect themselves. Interestingly this upsets a lot of people  - with statements like "they should HAVE TO TELL a partner"!! ( Obviously HIV is an extreme example, but you get similar reactions to something very common and easily treates, like eg Chalmydia. )

Apply the same logic to another situation: roads and traffic. People know there are cars. People know that being hit by a car will hurt. People know there are reasonable precautions they can take, like crossing at a pedestrian crossing, or even looking before they cross the road. If you then walk out into traffic, ignoring this knowledge, and have your leg broken by the vehicle that hits you, you are the one who was at fault- not the driver of the vehicle. 

I'm not saying anyone should be ashamed if they happen to contract an STI, but you should take responsibility for your own actions and your health- no one else will!

3 stages- Don't get pregnant, Won't get pregnant, Can't get pregnant,

Commentary on the article:

http://www.bionews.org.uk/page_48398.asp

Professor Gedis Grudzinskas

Director of Fertility Focus Professional Services (FFPS is an expert, unaffiliated, independent, multi-disciplinary, international network of infertility specialists)

Grudinskas' article described the modern western woman's 3 stages of fertility as:

- Don't get pregnant

- Won't get pregnant, and

- Can't get pregnant

The first, "Don't get pregnant" describes presumably the teens and early to mid 20s, where sexuality is being explored, and the focus is on having fun with the aim being, at all costs- "Dont get pregnant!".

The second stage the "Won't get pregnant" was described as being the professional years, around 25-35, where women are focussing on their jobs, traveling and trying to build a successful life outside of a procreation focussed model.

The third was described as "Can't get pregnant", when on reaching the stage where women do want to have children, they realise they're in their mid to late 30s or *god forbid* LATER, and have trouble conceiving.

Prof Grudinskas is an infertility specialist. He profits financially and professionally from other people's infertility. While I'm sure he's heard every story as to why people are seeking his help to conceive, he applies a sexist social schema to the situation which is not only insulting to women, but unhelpful too.

The author also suggested a few reasons for women having children later such as "holding out to find prince charming". While I can see his (of course, the author was male!) points to a certain extent, I mostly found these comments insulting and incredibly judgemental of women's reproductive "choices". To lay the full blame for a low birth rate in Australia solely on women's shoulders, and condemn them for the social consequences of this shows how certain fields of sexism are still very much alive and kicking.

This can be easily seen by substituting male for female in the above arguements. There is nowhere near the same expectation for men to have children on the same kind of timeline, partly because they can produce viable sperm until a much later age, giving them an extra 10- 20 years to forge a career, relationships and other aspects of life. If men are still single at 35 they dont get anywhere near the pitying looks, and if they choose to remain single for life- hey they're a bachelor, no problem. The word spinster, though carries connotations of being single because there's something wrong with you rather than having made an active lifestyle choice.

Presumably the women who have decided there is no right/wrong time/man when and with whom to start their family. With the ticking clock symbolism the author spread throughout his piece, he suggests that women are "too picky" of who should father their children, and should "settle" for one of the thousands of decent guys who are around. " I would ask- have you told them that- These "decent blokes"? "Hey mate, some chick wants to marry you and have kids, though she doesn't really like you, but the clock is ticking!". Something tells me this is when most males would push the eject button, not say "Awesome- sign me up!".


What kind of relationship he thought this would foster in terms of providing good parenting for any resulting children of the relationship I don't know.

To some, the prospects of divorce, redundancy, compromised career progress and the drudgery of motherhood replacing a responsibility-free social life lead to further delays.

Mummy and Daddy didn't really want me, but they felt pressured to breed as Mummy's ovaries were about to spontaneously combust and take down all of society with them in her failure to procreate on schedule.

Alternatively, wuold he have women down the pub, trawling for sperm? "Anyone for a root- I'm ovulating... errr I mean horny." Excellent- just what the country neds is more unknown fathers and welfare -dependant single mothers. But shit- look out- you're 33, and if you don't meet someone in the next 6 months, then you won't have a baby by 35, then *gasp* it's the armageddon!

I suppose for myself I lie somewhere between the Won't get pregnant and Can't get pregnant categories.

I'm 30, childless and single. Through Prof Grudinskas' lenses this must be because I'm hugely career focused or reject all these adequate males which must be thrust at me constantly in my life, or don't want to "inconvenience" myself with children. I assure you this is not the case- I like working, but am in no way wed to my job or driven with hunger for career success or prestige. I would love to have children, and ideally would like to be having them now, but life hasn't transpired that way for me.

Fantastic as it is for those who met their dream partner at 25, dated for 3 years, got married and had children at 29-32 (well done- gold star for you all) should those of us who didn't experience this set of circumstances run down the pub and jump on the first cock I find? Brings a whole new meaning to "fell" pregnant:

"I was walking along the street when I happened to trip and land on an ejaculating penis."

"Oh that's lucky Sas- you're 30 after all, and were about to spontaneously combust!"

So no- I won't get pregnant this way, sorry Prof Grudinskas. Aside from the initial unappealing logistics of shagging some random creep, I would then be faced with:

- losing my house as taking maternity leave I wouldnt be able to maintain mortgage payments

and/ or- chucking the resulting progeny into childcare at 3 months old, resulting in poor parental bonding, lower rates of breast feeding, a far more stressed out parent

- a lower overall birth rate: Think you could do this once as a single parent? Try doing it 2-3 times and see how your socio-economic status and sanity is faring!

And then we enter the Can't get pregnant, but Ill leave that for another day as I think this was a sufficiently long rant on the topic for now!

RIP Blossom 1991-2011.

Its funny the way animals burrow their way into your hearts, with all their quirks and neurotic behaviours.

We got Blossom as an adult cat, so I'm not sure when her exact date of birth is, but I'd guess she was 1-2 yrs old in 1993 when she joined us. We went to the Cat Haven in Perth looking for a kitten, but were so overwhelmed with this funny looking skinny cat who was so incredibly affectionate and wanted nothing but cuddles, that we ended up taking her home instead.

About a week later, she came down with the cat flu, probably something she'd picked up just before leaving the Cat Haven, and was a sneeze a minute. Although she'd only been with us a few days, in true cat fashion she'd already taken to sleeping under the covers in my bed. I remember reading a book in bed, with Blossom tucked up under my knees in the bed-cat-cave, and having a sneezing fit- all over the back of my bare thighs (I was wearing a nighty). Sprays of freezing cold cat snot on my bare flesh were rather alarming to say the least, but these things are forgiven, as you would a sick child.

Bloss' favourite thing was smelly shoes- the stinkier the better. In fact if they were of the variety that could empty a room and have everyone yelling that they should be left outside, they were just about ripe enough for her to bury her head in, lick, nibble, roll on and fall asleep in. Neurotic? Yes. Slightly disgusting? Yes.
The reilient old beast went through many moves with me- from Perth to Sydney, to Brisbane (and howled for 6 of the 10 hours of the drive, the final 4 I let her out of the cage to sit on my lap and she was perfectly happy!) and finally to Hobart. When I moved to Canberra she moved in with my Mum and grandmother to live out her senior years in a "retirement" home. She would get pushed around the garden on my grandmother's walking frame, or stagger along side- their arthritic gaits making them a funny pair to watch. Of an evening she would howl until the fire was lit for her, and be fed tiny slithers of fresh steak on the hearth- slightly spoiled is putting it lightly.

In her final days she grew weak and stopped eating. On the last night she couldn't walk any more, and was tucked up in front of the fire on her sheep skin rug until with a few laboured breaths it was the end. A quiet and peaceful end at the age of 20 years, but still the tears stream down my face.

To my Blossom- You will be missed, gorgeous girl. xxx

Things that shit me- #14 Over air-conditioning

Ah airconditioning... a wonderful luxury of modern life. So why is it that when it's 20 degrees outside, some clever individual decided to crank the system up full blast, cooling the office to about 13 degrees.

Surely the absence of staff leading up to Christmas has amplified the effect with the lack of body heat contributing to the ambient temperature, combined with the late onset of summer temperatures, to create the frigid environment that you have to shiver through.

Now 20 degrees is quite comfortable, so a light cardigan should be sufficient clothing to maintina optimal body temperature. Not a pashmina wrapped around your legs to stop them from turning blue, a winter coat and tucking your hands into your armpits to retain some feeling in your fingers!

(Must have been a day for it Gem!)

Dexter

How do I love Dexter, let me count the ways

Dexter, a TV series adaptation and series of books by Jeff Lindsay based on a central character named Dexter Morgan, and the screen version is vying for the spot of my favourite TV series ever made.

I generally do not like violence. I find it unnecessary in many shows, and despise sports like boxing, where people inflict pain on others with little or no purpose. Yet Dexter, in its sometimes vividly graphic way is neither offensive or disgusting to me.

Perhaps it's the "code" that Dexter operates under- that the people killed must be "bad"- thus making him an antihero. Or because it allows me to live somewhat vicariously through the character and fantasise of the justice I would exact on those who have wronged me.

I relate to the character in many other ways- from his deep inability to understand "normal" people and woefully awkward attempts to appear to be one of them, to his recurrent failure in relationships, intimate or otherwise.

But it's the innate humanity and reflections of my own experience with depression that takes the appreciation to another level. The following quotes have exactly reflected my own thoughts on the world at times:

"I'm not sure what I am. I just know there's something dark in me. I hide it. I certainly don't talk about it, but it's there always, this Dark Passenger.  "

"I'm empty. But I found a way to make it less bottomless. Pretend. You pretend the feelings are there, for the world. For the people around you. Who knows, maybe one day they will be."

“Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake it all. I fake it very well, and the feelings are never there.”   

"I wonder if darkness is defined by light- if so darkness can't exist on its own. There must, by definition be light somewhere, waiting to be found."

Attractiveness

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; it's whats on the inside that counts.. blah blah.. how many times have we heard this? And how many times have you seen a Danny De Vito type dating a Cameron Diaz?
I propose a new theory- if everyone has a score out of 10, then their partners will be within + or - 1 rating out of 10 in attractiveness, or +/- 2 in special circumstances.

So what is it that make people attractive. Well you could go into the facial symmetry theories etc, but if you were to ask 100 people to rate a photo out of ten, you get an average score, for example 7. That's a rating based purely on their physicality- the important bit is that when they open their mouth, so many things can change.

If they say something stupid, and reveal substantial character flaws, -1 point or more. Put a cigarette in their mouth and from my perspective that takes off at least -2 or -3 points. If they're arrogant or have a "holier than thou attitude" take off a point or two.

This is probably best demonstrated with friends- ever known someone who you may have even made fun of when you first met them for being funny looking/ fat or some other less than perfect physical characteristic, but then after knowing them for a few years- you can't even notice it any more? The fact that they are so nice as a person adds to their overall "attractiveness" despite their exterior physical appearance- and the person who, once a stranger you may have thought- ew dont touch me! Now you feel inclined to give them a big hug.

As I've gotten older I've found my taste changing too. I used to very much find myself attracted to the tall, dark n handsome, muscle bound guys. Now when I see one of them I might appreciate their physicality for a moment, but I have absolutely no desire to have any interaction with them- physical or otherwise, knowing that if they spend that much time in the gym they're probably far more in love with their reflection than they will ever be with another person.

White Ribbon

http://www.whiteribbon.org.au/
White Ribbon is about reducing violence against women.

I challenge you to take the oath:
Swear an oath never to commit, excuse or remain silent about violence against women.

Some more ways we can work to reduce this can be found at:

http://www.whiteribbon.org.au/prevention

Violence against women tends to extend beyond the couple, and to the children as well- so violence against women is violence against a whole family. Strange as it may sound, this can even include pets and animals which get kicked in anger or to manipulate e.g. "Do what I say or I'll break the dog's leg". It is estimated that 88% of animals living in households with domestic violence are either abused or killed. Of all the women in America who enter shelters to escape abuse, 57% have had companion animals killed by the batterer.
http://animal-lib.org.au/subjects/violent-behaviour/51-violence-to-animals-violence-to-humans.html#Humans

For me, I have grown up in a violent household. I have lived the harm- it eats into your sense of self and contributes to feelings of worthlessness and helplessness, depression and anxiety.

To remain silent is akin to endorsing the behaviour, so if you hear anyone talking about or endorsing violence against women- don't stay quiet- challenge it, and let them know it's not okay!

The word "Slut"

"Slut" is a word that is probably not best to type into google for a meaning, but if you do find a dictionary meaning it'll look something like this:

1.

a. A person, especially a woman, considered sexually promiscuous.

b. A woman prostitute.

2. A slovenly woman; a slattern.

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/slut

Wikipedia gives some better context: Slut or slattern is a pejorative term applied to an individual who is considered to have loose sexual morals or who is sexually promiscuous. The term is generally applied to women and is an insult or offensive term of disparagement, meaning "dirty or slovenly."

I'll never forget the first time I was called a slut to my face- which was when I was 16, by the guy I was dating at the time, and had lost my virginity to a few weeks prior.

Needless to say, given that I had only had one sexual partner at the time, and was in an established, ongoing, monogamous relationship- this came as quite a surprise to me, and was very confusing.

As it turned out- he was under the impression that I had been sleeping around with numerous people. More interesting was that he didn't believe me when I said I hadn't. The power of gossip had been stronger than our relationship, and made what should have been a special experience memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully I had a bit of self respect, and dumped him not long after that.

Ironically the next time I was called a slut was a few months later, when I refused he advances of a guy at a party. Although it wasn't so much the "you're a slut" as before, but a "fuck you,  slut"- intended to hurt me. As it was so ridiculous though,  in that he was calling me a slut for NOT being interested in any sexual interactions with him, it just made me laugh.

So often, it's used as a weapon- to try and manipulate, shame or control women.

The only time I actually found it hurtful was when it came from the mouth of a friend. We had been to a large university party one Saturday night- and I had met a guy I thought was funny and attractive. After a while, and a few more drinks, we ended up kissing. Wolf whistles, people laughing etc encouraged us to go for a walk outside.

A few minutes later I found myself in a very unwelcome situation, with this guy having ripped down my pants and trying to force himself on me, despite me saying I didn't want to. Big guy- about 6'4", so I had between buckleys and none of overpowering him as he held me there. As luck would have it some people from the party came walking past, and a moment of distraction was enough to get away.

This is generally known as date rape, and even though he wasn't wholly successful, it was a somewhat upsetting experience as some would imagine. At uni a few days later, a friend , Joe* was asking "so how'd it go with John* the other night- you guys were looking pretty friendly".

me: "I never want to see him again. "

Joe: "yeah right- you were all over him at the party"

me:" shut up you dont know what you're talking about"

Joe: "c'mon you wanted him"

me: "Sure- I thought he was hot, but he tried to rape me you dick head, now fuck off- I don't want to talk about it"

Joe: " Bullshit- you're a slut, you wanted him"

Yep- that was the time it really hurt. Probably more than the actual event itself.

People's ideas of what a woman's sexual behaviour is is not always accurate, and their opinions of how it should be reinforce harmful attitudes of "she wanted it; she was asking for it; she deserved it" and excuse men's dangerous behaviour.

*not their real names

Things that shit me #13- Bad-weather-behaviour

We've had a week of storms, rain and hail this week, which has not been helped at all by douchebag behaviour.

1- umbrellas have metal through them to keep them rigid. You do not need to hold it so that it drips down the back of someone else's neck, or pokes them in the eye when you swing it around thoughtlessly.

2- when you're shaking off your umbrella before entering a building etc, doing it right next to someone else and shaking all the water onto their legs is somewhat inconsiderate.

3- rain + uneven surfaces and blocked drains makes puddles. You do not have to drive straight through them at speed and drench the people on the sidewalk.

Fashion victims #1

The constantly changing world of fashion- changing to suposedly create a desire for new and different things, so sales stay up and profits increase.

What amazes me is that some of the crap actually sells- its horrendous, flattering to no one, and designed to be overpriced, pointless junk that will be out of date after you've worn it once.

Take this little piece for example:

The aptly named "ditzy floral bolero" by bebe Sydney. With a print that looks somewhat like you just had all you can eat Pizza hut, including a hefty serving of soft serve from the dessert bar, and promptly threw it up all over yourself, this item offers no shape, and seemingly no function- being neither a shirt or a jacket. Top points for making this tiny thin model look fat too.

Another item in the aforementioned designers' collection is this stunning garment:

What we can observe here is that fashion has no boundaries- who would have thought of chopping up Nanna's old table cloth, and pairing it with the fringing off her lamp shade? If you are stupid enough to pay money for this item, I highly recommend operating heavy machinery - preferably with moving parts- while wearing it.

The following frock is presented by Jota & Ge:

 Denim... a modern classic. Just a tip though- you're doing it wrong. How much for this semi casual catastrophe you say? A mere $375- I kid you not.
If you have $375 and choose to spend it on this, do not pass go- do not collect $200, head straight to the nearest hospital and donate your organs to someone worthy.