Why are horoscopes so appealing? Are they the same as the zodiac? Lets face it, if you worded every single horoscope in the paper differently, they could all be tailored to anyone, from any sign.
What about the zodiac? Is it a load of bull? It is a social construct, and works in the same way as parents talking about children: get told this is how you are, for long enough, or from sources you hold in high regard, and you will change your perceptions of yourself to match this.
Having said that - can there really only be 12 types of people?
I admit, I fit very closely into the Gemini scene from which I come from, and my ex boyfriend is very much a Virgo in the way he thinks, as is my sister a Leo.
We fit like gloves.
I was surprised to see an emphasised point from a Zodiac book my mother has just bought, saying "in every Gemini there is a Dr Jekyll and a Mr Hyde."
I did a double take because this is how I describe myself to people: two-faced in the sense that I am two people (who each have a face). I just switch between, or exist as both. This was how I tried to explain myself to my ex, when voicing why I do what I do. Truth be told, I do what I do, because I do it. In my head there is rarely a conscious reasoning pattern, and I have to dig deep to find it. There is always method to my madness. It's just hard to see, even for me sometimes.
Every time I settle down emotionally, I HAVE to do something to stir things up, and wreck it all. Just like a typical Gemini.
Oh, I feel just as strongly about people and things, as others. I just prefer to keep my thought process to myself. Not good for the queen of communication.
After all the learning I've done into social constructs: who speaks for whom and from where do they speak (Michel Foucault), I believed that the Zodiac was just another method for catergorising, stereotyping, people. After reading that book for a few minutes....... I'm not so sure.
Maybe next time I have to explain why I am to someone, I'll just show them Chapter 3: Gemini.
Thursday 27 May 2010
Friday 21 May 2010
Futility.
In the grand scheme of things, we're nothing, really. Our lifespan is but a grain in the sands of time. How do we not become overwhelmed with a sense of futility? Why live in the past, in memories?
Where is the purpose to living?
To be born, reproduce and die?
To make the world better for those that come after? - well, the past people did a fabulous job of that.
I understand why so many people feel hopeless.
Why so many suicide.
I bet you that jumpers figure out the answers to their problems half way down.
By then it's too late.
Where is the purpose to living?
To be born, reproduce and die?
To make the world better for those that come after? - well, the past people did a fabulous job of that.
I understand why so many people feel hopeless.
Why so many suicide.
I bet you that jumpers figure out the answers to their problems half way down.
By then it's too late.
Thursday 20 May 2010
Hi, I'm White,
I am, until this Sunday, a 17-year-old white Australian female.
After Sunday I will be an 18 year-old white Australian female.
I am a university student. The idea that I would go to university was never questioned by myself, or those around me - it was where my life would head regardless of anything else.
As part of this higher-education, I take, and am almost finished, a course called 'Indigenous Studies: Culture and Colonisation'.
Because of this course, I will never think about things, certainly not in an Australian context, in the same way again.
One of our readings, from a lady called Peggy McIntosh, really hit home, and I would like you to ask yourself if any or all of these statements apply to you.
Racism not only disadvantages the minority, it also advantages the majority. Don't believe me? Read below.
As a white, female, Australian national, I can safely say that pretty well all of them are applicable to me.
McIntosh, P (1988), White Privilege and Male Privilege: A Personal Account of Coming To See Correspondences through Work in Women's Studies, Wellesley College, USA.
After Sunday I will be an 18 year-old white Australian female.
I am a university student. The idea that I would go to university was never questioned by myself, or those around me - it was where my life would head regardless of anything else.
As part of this higher-education, I take, and am almost finished, a course called 'Indigenous Studies: Culture and Colonisation'.
Because of this course, I will never think about things, certainly not in an Australian context, in the same way again.
One of our readings, from a lady called Peggy McIntosh, really hit home, and I would like you to ask yourself if any or all of these statements apply to you.
Racism not only disadvantages the minority, it also advantages the majority. Don't believe me? Read below.
As a white, female, Australian national, I can safely say that pretty well all of them are applicable to me.
Because I am white.
1. I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.
2. I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to mistrust and who have learned to mistrust my kind or me.
3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.
4. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.
5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.
6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.
7. When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization," I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.
8. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
9. If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.
10. I can be pretty sure of having my voice heard in a group in which I am the only member of my race.
11. I can be casual about whether or not to listen to another person's voice in a group in which s/he is the only member of his/her race.
12. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods which fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser's shop and find someone who can cut my hair.
13. Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance of financial reliability.
14. I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.
15. I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.
16. I can be pretty sure that my children's teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others' attitudes toward their race.
17. I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my color.
18. I can swear, or dress in second hand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty or the illiteracy of my race.
19. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.
20. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.
22. I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of color who constitute the world's majority without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.
23. I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behavior without being seen as a cultural outsider.
24. I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the "person in charge", I will be facing a person of my race.
25. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven't been singled out because of my race.
26. I can easily buy posters, post-cards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys and children's
magazines featuring people of my race.
27. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance or feared.
28. I can be pretty sure that an argument with a colleague of another race is more likely to jeopardize her/his chances for advancement than to jeopardize mine.
29. I can be pretty sure that if I argue for the promotion of a person of another race, or a program centering on race, this is not likely to cost me heavily within my present setting, even if my colleagues disagree with me.
30. If I declare there is a racial issue at hand, or there isn't a racial issue at hand, my race will lend me more credibility for either position than a person of color will have.
31. I can choose to ignore developments in minority writing and minority activist programs, or disparage them, or learn from them, but in any case, I can find ways to be more or less protected from negative consequences of any of these choices.
32. My culture gives me little fear about ignoring the perspectives and powers of people of other races.
33. I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.
34. I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.
35. I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.
36. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it had racial overtones.
37. I can be pretty sure of finding people who would be willing to talk with me and advise me about my next steps, professionally.
38. I can think over many options, social, political, imaginative or professional, without asking whether a person of my race would be accepted or allowed to do what I want to do.
39. I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.
40. I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.
41. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.
42. I can arrange my activities so that I will never have to experience feelings of rejection owing to my race.
43. If I have low credibility as a leader I can be sure that my race is not the problem.
44. I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.
45. I can expect figurative language and imagery in all of the arts to testify to experiences of my race.
46. I can chose blemish cover or bandages in "flesh" color and have them more or less match my skin.
47. I can travel alone or with my spouse without expecting embarrassment or hostility in those who deal with us.
48. I have no difficulty finding neighborhoods where people approve of our household
49. My children are given texts and classes which implicitly support our kind of family unit and do not turn them against my choice of domestic partnership.
50. I will feel welcomed and "normal" in the usual walks of public life, institutional and social.
McIntosh, P (1988), White Privilege and Male Privilege: A Personal Account of Coming To See Correspondences through Work in Women's Studies, Wellesley College, USA.
Wednesday 19 May 2010
Riding the Crimson Wave.
Gentlemen, I must apologise first for the content of this bit here - not all of you are so adapted as those with sisters who tell everything in gross detail.
Ladies, tell me if I am the only one that thinks this.
Menstruation.
Gift of life. Bringer of miracles.
By definition, it makes women wondrous creatures, capable of creating life (not, of course, without a little help from a special guy out there).
But then - what of those of us who don't want the patter of little feet, or the 9 months of nausea, heart burn and a swelling tummy beforehand?
Students, Teenagers,Workaholics Career-driven women, without necessary funds, the list goes on. And yet, despite this, we still get the monthly spring-clean ready for the next opportunity. It's like nature is encouraging us to reproduce constantly! Jeepers - think of the population if that happened =\
I, for one, loathe this clean out with all my being. It's inconvenient, messy, annoying, and just GROSS. Traditionally, if someone is bleeding, then something is drastically wrong. I maintain this line of thought. No, I am not a feminist. I do not believe that women are equal or greater than men. Let's face it - they're bigger and stronger, and we're better in just as many ways (just not the same ways).
But back to the point: I don't believe that it should be revered and respected as holy or whatever. I. Hate. It.
Depending on who you believe, the average age for menarche has dropped by 2 - 2.5 years. Why? Are we growing up too fast? Western society to blame? The people in the know think so. Check out Wikipedia if you don't agree or understand. Wiki knows all.
When I was younger, and not so used to torrential-based freak-outs from the bathroom, it used to upset me to tears, wondering what I'd done to deserve to feel like that, physically and emotionally.
Put me in for temporary embarrassment and needing to hide my crotch behind a notebook any time - cause the alternative sucks if you don't want kids.
Ladies, tell me if I am the only one that thinks this.
Menstruation.
Gift of life. Bringer of miracles.
By definition, it makes women wondrous creatures, capable of creating life (not, of course, without a little help from a special guy out there).
But then - what of those of us who don't want the patter of little feet, or the 9 months of nausea, heart burn and a swelling tummy beforehand?
Students, Teenagers,
I, for one, loathe this clean out with all my being. It's inconvenient, messy, annoying, and just GROSS. Traditionally, if someone is bleeding, then something is drastically wrong. I maintain this line of thought. No, I am not a feminist. I do not believe that women are equal or greater than men. Let's face it - they're bigger and stronger, and we're better in just as many ways (just not the same ways).
But back to the point: I don't believe that it should be revered and respected as holy or whatever. I. Hate. It.
Depending on who you believe, the average age for menarche has dropped by 2 - 2.5 years. Why? Are we growing up too fast? Western society to blame? The people in the know think so. Check out Wikipedia if you don't agree or understand. Wiki knows all.
When I was younger, and not so used to torrential-based freak-outs from the bathroom, it used to upset me to tears, wondering what I'd done to deserve to feel like that, physically and emotionally.
Put me in for temporary embarrassment and needing to hide my crotch behind a notebook any time - cause the alternative sucks if you don't want kids.
Tuesday 18 May 2010
Saturday 15 May 2010
Telemarketers
There are few things that I genuinely try to avoid:
Being caught without clothes in public,
Failing any assignments,
Nasty, vindictive people
and
Telemarketers.
It is to the point where I don't want to pick up the phone at work, because it seems that every time I do, it's one of them, and they are SO rude, it just goes against principle - I mean..... for one thing, isn't it supposed to be the person the telemarketer calls that is rude? I mean - i got put on HOLD. by a TELEMARKETER!!
COME ON, PEOPLE. WHAT THE ........ *&%$^
Now, I've got a natural disposition to be polite to people when i'm on the phone to them. The only exception to this is Nick, who has a rather amazing talent of always calling at the most inconvenient of times, so it's to the point of
And yet, there are other kind of marketers, peddling a very special kind of product: faith. These, I am susceptible to.
Now, I appreciate the humour of people trying to avoid when Jehovah's Witnesses come a-knocking, because I myself have had my own special person who remembered my name, where I lived, she knew my surname without me ever giving it. I made the mistake of actually chatting to her once, at a point in my life when I was sick, and opened the door by mistake, thinking it was mum, still looking for her keys. Alas, no. She also caught me at a time when I was seriously thinking about faith and its role in my life. Was almost thinking about getting baptised. Goodness I am glad I didn't. That would make me a heretic, right now.
But. She was interesting, and we spoke, then left. However, she began to turn up on weekends, when I was most likely to be home. Clever avoidance tactics from myself have resulted in a cessation of visits.
Olivia 1 : God 0
*sigh*
Here's hoping that some clever avoidance tactics present themselves for the telephonic nuisance.
Being caught without clothes in public,
Failing any assignments,
Nasty, vindictive people
and
Telemarketers.
It is to the point where I don't want to pick up the phone at work, because it seems that every time I do, it's one of them, and they are SO rude, it just goes against principle - I mean..... for one thing, isn't it supposed to be the person the telemarketer calls that is rude? I mean - i got put on HOLD. by a TELEMARKETER!!
Me: Hello, Balhannah Bakery, this is Olivia.
Voice on phone: All our representatives are currently busy, please hold. [and repeat]
*man finally comes on*: Hello, is this Balhannah Bakery?
Me: *unwardly sighs* Yes. Can I help you?
Voice: Is the business owner there?
Me: No, sorry, she's finished for the day (I'm not even sure who the owner is, but they certainly aren't at MY branch). Can I take a message?
*guy hangs up*
COME ON, PEOPLE. WHAT THE ........ *&%$^
Now, I've got a natural disposition to be polite to people when i'm on the phone to them. The only exception to this is Nick, who has a rather amazing talent of always calling at the most inconvenient of times, so it's to the point of
"Hey."I am rarely rude to telemarketers, I understand that they get a LOT of weird, rude and just plain nasty responses. It's their job. I guess the beauty is that I am neither a home owner, payer for internet, or phones, and I am not yet 18. (8 days people, 8 days!)
"Hi, bad time [eating dinner/ have company/ in shower/ about to go out]. Call later, or tomorrow?"
"K" *hangs up*
And yet, there are other kind of marketers, peddling a very special kind of product: faith. These, I am susceptible to.
Now, I appreciate the humour of people trying to avoid when Jehovah's Witnesses come a-knocking, because I myself have had my own special person who remembered my name, where I lived, she knew my surname without me ever giving it. I made the mistake of actually chatting to her once, at a point in my life when I was sick, and opened the door by mistake, thinking it was mum, still looking for her keys. Alas, no. She also caught me at a time when I was seriously thinking about faith and its role in my life. Was almost thinking about getting baptised. Goodness I am glad I didn't. That would make me a heretic, right now.
But. She was interesting, and we spoke, then left. However, she began to turn up on weekends, when I was most likely to be home. Clever avoidance tactics from myself have resulted in a cessation of visits.
Olivia 1 : God 0
*sigh*
Here's hoping that some clever avoidance tactics present themselves for the telephonic nuisance.
Saturday 8 May 2010
my day.
i've got a tummy bug, and it's warped my perception of things. i deem it to be a tummy bug purely because i know that after barely eating all day, and doing a hectic 5 hour shift at work, i should be starving, and i can feel it, but i'm so not in the mood to eat it isn't even funny.
logged onto my stat counter (because i like to know how many people are visiting my sites and where theyre from- predominantly Adelaide, but I've had some really bizarre ones, like Zaire, Luxembourg, Singapore and Russia) and ther was a rather large number there. Perplexed, I went and took a look at the details. Regardless, it made me laugh, as I've not seen a number bigger than 10 in a number of months.
there you go, two useless paragraphs.
here's a third:
I'm cleaning my room - i can actually see the floor and walls :D
logged onto my stat counter (because i like to know how many people are visiting my sites and where theyre from- predominantly Adelaide, but I've had some really bizarre ones, like Zaire, Luxembourg, Singapore and Russia) and ther was a rather large number there. Perplexed, I went and took a look at the details. Regardless, it made me laugh, as I've not seen a number bigger than 10 in a number of months.
there you go, two useless paragraphs.
here's a third:
I'm cleaning my room - i can actually see the floor and walls :D
Friday 7 May 2010
Watch out,orthe boogey man will get you...........
It was early evening, and getting darker, but still just light enough to see without a torch. I parked the car; was in a harrassed mood- we were late. For what, I'll not know. I dropped my bag on the grass by the path into the house, I could see in through the security screen on the sliding door. My friend Dan was encouraging me to leave it and just go inside, but I refused. Getting quite upset, I told them, and my uni lecturer, who was inside, that I needed to put it all away, and that it would all fit into one bag, I promised.
The one bag turned into two milk crates, and two or three bags of differing sizes. I picked the biggest one and started shoving my things into it. I heard several motorbikes pull up behind me, and I spun around to see what it was. Six guys got off, undoing helmets, standing tall, staring greedily at me, and then inside as the girls got off the back. My heart rate shot through the roof: something about their eyes terrified me. they went inside, except for a couple of the girls, and one guy. I heard a shriek form inside, and everyone ran out windows, doors, any way of escaping. All were girls. The one remaining man looked at me, and began to advance. I was wearing heels, and knew I wasn't feeling particularly strong - I knew what was coming. He smiled at me, making the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end, and I began to back up, stopping only when my back hit the pool fence.
"How about it baby? hmmm?"
My stomach turned over, spitting out my reply, "no way, dont even think about it. I would never .... with you. and besides, I have a boyfriend."
I pulled Dan over beside me, gripping his hand. I made a mental note that Matt was meant to be there, not Dan, because Dan wasn't my boy, but then ignored the option to change characters to make it more real - I knew what was going to happen and I didn't want to put him through having to see that. He just laughed, asking me how I thought that made a difference.
Everything was in bright colour, lour sounds, like all my senses were heightened. I looked at the woman standing behind him and screwed up my face, forcing out a choked, "No. Not if I can help it," and tried to kick her in the sternum with my heel, and run. She caught it, twisting my leg, tripping me up. I screamed, crying, as he trapped me under his weight, pushing down on me. I struggled, but there was nothing I could do, and Dan just watched helplessly as the man put his hand up my skirt and pulled down my underwear..........and everything went black, all I could feel was pure terror.
I came into consciousness watching some other man have his way with one of the girls from inside, in the spa. I don't know how conscious she was. I sat up with a start, realising that he was gone. Everyone else was inside, I could still hear crying, shrieking. The man from before looked out the glass, saw I'd woken, and began to move towards the door. I whimpered, pulling off my shoe, trying to get up, get away. Managed to pull myself up after struggling with crawling on the pavement, right as he opened the door and sprinted towards me. The last thing I remember was thinking 'no, not again, please.', and I made myself wake up, gasping for air, on the verge of tears, which spilled over later,when I'd realised exactly what the dream was about.
Needless to say, I was glad that Matt was alive and breathing next to me, and clung to his arm while my heart rate slowed to below critical.
Anyone want to explain what that was about, feel free, cause it sure as hell freaked me out, and I'd like to know why my brain is showing me such scary things.
The one bag turned into two milk crates, and two or three bags of differing sizes. I picked the biggest one and started shoving my things into it. I heard several motorbikes pull up behind me, and I spun around to see what it was. Six guys got off, undoing helmets, standing tall, staring greedily at me, and then inside as the girls got off the back. My heart rate shot through the roof: something about their eyes terrified me. they went inside, except for a couple of the girls, and one guy. I heard a shriek form inside, and everyone ran out windows, doors, any way of escaping. All were girls. The one remaining man looked at me, and began to advance. I was wearing heels, and knew I wasn't feeling particularly strong - I knew what was coming. He smiled at me, making the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end, and I began to back up, stopping only when my back hit the pool fence.
"How about it baby? hmmm?"
My stomach turned over, spitting out my reply, "no way, dont even think about it. I would never .... with you. and besides, I have a boyfriend."
I pulled Dan over beside me, gripping his hand. I made a mental note that Matt was meant to be there, not Dan, because Dan wasn't my boy, but then ignored the option to change characters to make it more real - I knew what was going to happen and I didn't want to put him through having to see that. He just laughed, asking me how I thought that made a difference.
Everything was in bright colour, lour sounds, like all my senses were heightened. I looked at the woman standing behind him and screwed up my face, forcing out a choked, "No. Not if I can help it," and tried to kick her in the sternum with my heel, and run. She caught it, twisting my leg, tripping me up. I screamed, crying, as he trapped me under his weight, pushing down on me. I struggled, but there was nothing I could do, and Dan just watched helplessly as the man put his hand up my skirt and pulled down my underwear..........and everything went black, all I could feel was pure terror.
I came into consciousness watching some other man have his way with one of the girls from inside, in the spa. I don't know how conscious she was. I sat up with a start, realising that he was gone. Everyone else was inside, I could still hear crying, shrieking. The man from before looked out the glass, saw I'd woken, and began to move towards the door. I whimpered, pulling off my shoe, trying to get up, get away. Managed to pull myself up after struggling with crawling on the pavement, right as he opened the door and sprinted towards me. The last thing I remember was thinking 'no, not again, please.', and I made myself wake up, gasping for air, on the verge of tears, which spilled over later,when I'd realised exactly what the dream was about.
Needless to say, I was glad that Matt was alive and breathing next to me, and clung to his arm while my heart rate slowed to below critical.
Anyone want to explain what that was about, feel free, cause it sure as hell freaked me out, and I'd like to know why my brain is showing me such scary things.
Thursday 6 May 2010
It runs in the family
My little sister has this website, and every time I look at it, my heart swells with pride and love, because it is exactly her: not chattering on like I do, just.... simple, and strong.
Like her.
She'll be great one day, and people will look back and go 'wow, look at who she was when she was a teenager'. Maybe you can gain a little inspiration from her words just as I have.
Tuesday 4 May 2010
kudos to those that turn teasing into an asset.
do you know how a beauty spot gained its name??
because when someone made a snide remark about the unusualness of it, the owner told them it was a mark of beauty, and should be respected, not jeered at.
because when someone made a snide remark about the unusualness of it, the owner told them it was a mark of beauty, and should be respected, not jeered at.
Monday 3 May 2010
I love friends.
I'm at uni. I have five minutes before I can dash around.
Life sucks a little bit at the moment. And yet, as in the wise words of James Morrison, 'we can pray for sunny weather, but that won't stop the rain'
And so pray for the sunshine I do. I know that crappy stuff has to happen, because without it, we wouldn't appreciate just how good the sun feels.
Turns out that there's a girl. I don't know her too well, but talking to her ever so briefly today has been my sunshine.
I think I'm going to make an active effort to be friends with her, cause I suspect there's a whole lot more awesomeness about her that I don't know yet.
Just thought I'd put that out there, because I'm smiling in part on the inside, even though the rest of my innards are crying.
I love friends. =)
Life sucks a little bit at the moment. And yet, as in the wise words of James Morrison, 'we can pray for sunny weather, but that won't stop the rain'
And so pray for the sunshine I do. I know that crappy stuff has to happen, because without it, we wouldn't appreciate just how good the sun feels.
Turns out that there's a girl. I don't know her too well, but talking to her ever so briefly today has been my sunshine.
I think I'm going to make an active effort to be friends with her, cause I suspect there's a whole lot more awesomeness about her that I don't know yet.
Just thought I'd put that out there, because I'm smiling in part on the inside, even though the rest of my innards are crying.
I love friends. =)
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