Monday, 28 February 2011


I feel a rant coming on. Well, not so much a rant, as an... observation. A facebook-related observation. Anyone who knows about FB also knows that you can 'Like' pages, and anyone/everyone can create such pages.
I scroll through websites dedicated to spamming my newsfeed with this rubbish occasionally to see whats happening. They're a pretty good indicator of social opinion.
On the top are Justin Bieber, boyfriend/girlfriend jokes, and comments about 'slut' this and 'slut' that.
I choose not to know much about the Bieber Fever purely because it just ain't my style.
The second, I look at, and either smile and ignore, or find distasteful and ignore....
The third however, tugs at my mindstrings, niggling away. Probably because it's something I feel very strongly about. 'It' being a combined cocktail of calling people names just for the sake of it, disloyalty, and an overal sense of what-is-the-world-coming-to?!
I hate the word slut. I got called it in year 8 - at the age of 12- because I was in a bad mood with my best friend. I dont know about you, but the name doesn't fit the description to me... And I figure, unless it directly impacts on your personal relationship with that person, if they want to do whatever with whoever, thats their perogative. Better that they get the STD's rather than me.
Certainly, there is a degree of composure required whilst in public. I would go so far as to say that anything more than a snog is out of bounds, but hey, a persons private life is that - private.....
Until it's posted all over facebook.

Which brings me back to the original catalyst for me writing: A Like page that was written in response to a response to one that said 'this facebook user [hyperlink] is a slut'. The response-response simply said 'thats the default for ALL facebook users, you idiot.'. I smiled at the sillyness, because the original complainer outlined all this information about why she wasnt the town bike and that she'd only 'done it with two guys because they were boyfriends and thought I loved them'. Also points out that she's only 17. Which makes for a whole nother can of worms.
But aside from all the /facepalm-ing and /headdesk-ing hilst reading these (they got progressively worse), it got me wondering..... at what point was it suddenly necessary to post outrage of a personal nature, on a space which the world can see?
I wouldn't want people to know about the really crappy things that have happened in my life, or about the not-so-nice things i've said absent-mindedly, so why would I put them online? The general consensus is that to do something online rather than in person is gutless and just poor form......
add to that the compulsive necessity to broadcast little events that are, really, meaningless, and I begin to wonder whether we're all turning into exhibitionists, that facebook just fuels the desire to feel important, and that everyone cares what youre doing at  any given moment.

Final note-
There's also a lot about fake vs real people. i think it's funny, because theres so many different angles to take on it that i'm not sure where to begin. there's the 'youre just jealous' angle, the 'this is my personal style' angle, the 'you do this therefore you MUST be a 13 year-old whore' (which ties in with above).
It's all stereotyping to the max. It's frustrating.
/ignores it
However, as my lovely boyfriend has pointed out, after i complained about wanting to look like someone in a music video even though they're photoshopped and edited, people who look like that, are often hollow BECAUSE they look like that. They don't need much else other than their absolutely stunning looks and ability to raise tents in the trousers of men they walk past. Although this too is a stereotype (probably designed to make us mortals feel a bit better).
The teenagers who are wearing all this skimpy clothing are just conforming to the times. Just like I had overalls as a kiddie.
It's a while before we'll be able to actually understand the long-term impact that social networks and sexualised media have on a generation, but we'll get there, for better or for worse.

Here's hoping we don't all end up committing the ultimate insult: de-friending sanity

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Feeling like a rollercoaster at the moment. I want to run, actually. Run as fast as I can; because when I run, it's all there is. I don't have to feel like this. I can push it all out through my feet, through my legs, through the stitch that forms in my side.
Run as far as I can, as fast as I can, until I'm gasping, and seriously wondering if I have asthma, doubled over, but trying to keep standing. Opens the lungs, you see, makes it easier to breathe.
I feel like I did when I was 16, pent up in this room, no escape. The problem is that I DO have an escape now. I don't want to drive away.
I want to run. But it's night. And apparently it isn't safe at night. Apparently. The only issue I've ever had, was losing my footing because unlike the suburbs, there isn't always ample lighting along the paths, if there is one at all.

For no reason, my hackles are raised, and the Jealousy rears its hideous head. And, really, it isn't unreasonable, now that i think about it.
I was betrayed, and my trust was lost. It's like the small child who touches a flame - they get burnt, it hurts. So they learn to be wary of it, and things like it - we all know fire comes in different forms.
So ex girlfriends, all of them, are the enemy.
Because when the moment dies, and we go our separate ways, there is the constant question of what he's doing, where he is, and with who.

And so I run. To make me feel like I can actually change something.

Valentines Day

It, as the title suggests, was valentines day this Monday past. I feel a post is in order, purely because I got to actually DO something on it. I can appreciate why people are so against its commercialised image, and why the single, rejected, and lonely people despise it, if only because it is a reminder of things they do not have.
Myself..... I think it's a fabulous excuse to go do something sappy and romantic with someone.
Alternatively, go to the beach en masse with friends to celebrate that kind of love rather than a relationship.

As for my own night......

I am a walker. I like hiking, and nature, and all the things that come with it. I like the rush of exhilaration when you reach the top, look out over it all, and know with absolute certainty that the 4 hours it took to get there was worth every bit.
And so I am told to meet my B at a shopping centre. He buys us dinner - to takeaway, of course- and then leads me to the bottom of a conservation park. He points to the top of the cliff face, "See that? That's where we're going." I smile, I'm excited, even despite the failing light, even despite maybe missing the sunset. But off we go, up the wide gravel path, detouring at a Danger sign, to head up the very top. In under 20 mins. It's beautiful.
The sky changes colour every time we look away, then back at it, as pasta is carefully eaten, spillage-free.
Wasn't too hot, or too cold, and the wind was just right.....
And when the sun finally set, the city lit up, as though it was trying to copy the stars. We pointed out different roads, which ones went where, and tried to see home from our perch.
Eventually, we figured we should go back, considering it was nearing 10, and the walk back wasnt going to be easy in the dark.
Got home, watched an episode of stargate, fell asleep in his arms, as was always going to be the case.
Seriously one of the best nights i've had with him in a long time.

Friday, 11 February 2011

The way the world's heading

It's been a while....
I've been lazy.
And absent -- Let's face it, spending most of your life away from the computer (with the exception of the occasional late nights at home, of course), marks less posts. However, it also should be cause for more inspiration.
True...... and false......

Really, i just catch myself having a whinge to the cleaner at work about the things i normally write about - the way fashion and music are changing, to the point where we'll soon be walking aroung wearing nothing but nipple tassels and 10-inch-high stripper heels, listening to the equivalent of an autotuned cymbal-clapping monkey.

Oh wait........ Rihanna and Ke$ha are the top 40 charts.........

It appears I am a little late in voicing my concern if they're the role models for teenage girls.
Goodness me I feel old, complaining about how it was when I grew up.
Maybe this is because I never really felt the need to be a fashion follower. By which i mean have any sense of it at all until the age of 16 (and even then.... =\...)
You may rest your worried souls in the knowledge that I'm actually getting good at it now.

Anyways. My point is -- skimpy clothes. softcore porn to a beat as music., and they wonder why girls are growing up faster, looking older younger, whoring themselves out before theyre 15 (not that it's okay after then, but you get my point).

I quote, from Dirty Talk by Wynter Gordon (Note: Spelling!)
Blindfold, feather bed,
tickle me, slippery,
G spot,nasty pose,
in a video,
love machine, by myself,
climax,hot wax
S&M on the floor, i like it hardcore



Not that I have a particular genre of music, but I'll pass on that one, thanks.
And on the tiny tiny shorts on girls who, lets face it, shouldn't be trying to copy their size 6 counterparts. Some styles are designed purely for the stick-thin, rather than the curvy ladies.

This really is going to be a night of griping so i'll keep each topic to its own post.