warning: it's been a while since i've been in a sociology lecture so if this just turns into a rant, so be it. i'm not apologising.
"i don't put out unless i get dinner", Lorelai Gilmore (Lauren Graham) quips when her best friend Sookie proposes a girl's night out in The Gilmore Girls.
It's a joke, it's funny within the context, and The Gilmore Girls is far from being an anti-feminist show.
However, as i sit watching it, i can't help but think about how the whole 'putting out for dinner' practise has become such an accepted social ritual in the dating world. more relevant to my age demographic would be the scenario of man buying drinks for women in a club or bar in hopes of a little hanky-panky (to use the correct umbrella term) later in the night. this can be anything from a 'party pash' to actually going home together, and the expectation that a drink will buy a woman's affections for the night has become so entrenched in our social rulebook that men have reportedly used it as part of their justification for sexual assault. it's the whole 'we're not inviting you over for a cup of milo' adage, that women should know what they're getting themselves into when they accept a man's hospitality. and while i agree that in this day and age, if a man buys a woman a drink in a club, it's not too hard to guess what his motives may be, however this is still absolutely no excuse for the boys to be let off the hook.
The way i see it, if a guy wants to buy me a drink, that is entirely his decision, and if he does have ulterior motives, he is taking a gamble. just as you are not guaranteed to win a single cent if you decide to play the pokies, a woman is well within her rights to do nothing more than accept the drink she has been bought (politely of course) and go about her business, and whether or not that business includes the man is entirely up to her.
if you really think about it, the 'putting out for dinner' (or a drink) school of thought is actually a form of attempted prostitution. Really, the guy has paid (in the form of a drink probably not exceeding $20) and he expects what is essentially a 'service' in return. of course, if the woman responds willingly, i have no issue with that. what makes it such a vile way of thinking is the fact that so many males automatically EXPECT that the woman will comply. and if we really are comparing this messed-up social ritual to commercial sex, i think it's fair to say that the professionals have the better end of the deal. for one, they are paid much more than just a cheap alcoholic beverage or two, and secondly (more importantly), they actually know in no uncertain terms the contract into which they enter by accepting payment.
and it's not just the guys who are to blame for encouraging this strange mentality. we may be the fairer sex, but ladies, have we fallen into the trap of condoning this? i've discussed this issue with a few of my female friends, and a few do admit to feeling guilty if a guy buys her a drink and she doesn't give anything in return. while i can understand this, what happened to chivalry? what happened to guys just doing things for girls for the sake of being nice? really, if a guy approached me in a club and asked to buy me a drink, i would thank him, make the decision to accept or decline based entirely on my own whims, and engage in some pleasant conversation (it's only polite). i might even dance with him, but taking it further than that depends entirely upon whether or not i'm attracted to him, how i find his personality, and if i even feel like "picking up" that night. i see the offer of a drink as more of a conversation opener than an invitation to be dragged back to his cave. it's a nice, foolproof way to break the ice, and while i'm not advocating women stringing guys along for a free drink (because that's just rude, you can say no if you're not interested), accepting but not taking things further sexually is in no way a crime. if he's really a nice guy who is genuinely interested in getting to know you beyond a one-night-stand, he'll exchange numbers and contact you later.
if he gets annoyed because you accepted the drink but don't want to take it further than polite conversation, that's entirely his problem and you're probably better off without him.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Bears or Bees?
coffee or tea?
Tea
black and white or colour?
colour
drawings or paintings?
umm paintings i think
dresses or skirts?
dresses, less effort
would you rather get chased by a bear or a swarm of bees?
bear
books or movies?
books
pepsi or coke?
there's no difference, neither
chinese or italian?
food- chinese
to visit- italy
culture - i think italian
early bird or night owl?
night owl
chocolate or vanilla?
stupid question. chocolate.
introvert or extrovert?
EXTROVERT DOWN YOUR SHIRT!!!
hugs or kisses?
both
cake or pie?
depends on my mood. usually cake
maths or english?
english
harry potter or lord of the rings?
Harry Potter, Harry Potter, OOH!!
dogs or cats?
cats
jocks or nerds?
nerds
pancakes or waffles?
when i think of pancakes i think crepes, so to be true to this question i'll say waffles, but really i'm a pancake (crepe!) girl
myspace or facebook?
facebook, never had myspace
honey mustard or BBQ sauce?
honey mustard
dimples or freckles?
they're both cute, but dimples
scrambled or fried?
i like both, usually scrambled
truth or dare?
dare
brights or neutrals?
brights
sky dive or bunjee jump?
sky dive
Tea
black and white or colour?
colour
drawings or paintings?
umm paintings i think
dresses or skirts?
dresses, less effort
would you rather get chased by a bear or a swarm of bees?
bear
books or movies?
books
pepsi or coke?
there's no difference, neither
chinese or italian?
food- chinese
to visit- italy
culture - i think italian
early bird or night owl?
night owl
chocolate or vanilla?
stupid question. chocolate.
introvert or extrovert?
EXTROVERT DOWN YOUR SHIRT!!!
hugs or kisses?
both
cake or pie?
depends on my mood. usually cake
maths or english?
english
harry potter or lord of the rings?
Harry Potter, Harry Potter, OOH!!
dogs or cats?
cats
jocks or nerds?
nerds
pancakes or waffles?
when i think of pancakes i think crepes, so to be true to this question i'll say waffles, but really i'm a pancake (crepe!) girl
myspace or facebook?
facebook, never had myspace
honey mustard or BBQ sauce?
honey mustard
dimples or freckles?
they're both cute, but dimples
scrambled or fried?
i like both, usually scrambled
truth or dare?
dare
brights or neutrals?
brights
sky dive or bunjee jump?
sky dive
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Firsts
first word...water
first friend... pretty sure my first friends were my 'playgroup' friends...mum was friends with a group of women with similar due dates when she was pregnant with me, and so their kids became my first friends and we went to playgroup together
first toy... i don't know if it was the first, but my oldest toy that i still have is a teddy bear called Cuddles, she was given to me shortly after i was born and i'll probably keep her forever
first crush...i think it was one of the boys in my class in prep
first celebrity crush... when i was about 5 i had a crush on Captain Planet and Prince Charming from Snow White, but my first actual person celeb crush was Justin Timberlake
first relationship...i went out with a boy in my class in grade 2, my friends told him to ask me out so he did. we had a 'wedding' in the playground at lunchtime but i wasn't a very good girlfriend and my best friend at the time didn't like him so after a few weeks she convinced me to dump him. he wasn't happy about it either.
first job... aside from stuff like babysitting, my first real job was at Muffin Break... my boss wasn't very nice but i got free muffins and it was a fairly easy job
first blog post... i'm pretty sure it was either a really long rant about how much i hated my boss at muffin break, or a really long discussion about love triangles in swan lake and centre stage... actually the blog still exists and i've just checked it was a sort-of self introduction but mostly i just ranted about this one friend i had at the time who really annoyed me.
but the other two posts are there too.
first friend... pretty sure my first friends were my 'playgroup' friends...mum was friends with a group of women with similar due dates when she was pregnant with me, and so their kids became my first friends and we went to playgroup together
first toy... i don't know if it was the first, but my oldest toy that i still have is a teddy bear called Cuddles, she was given to me shortly after i was born and i'll probably keep her forever
first crush...i think it was one of the boys in my class in prep
first celebrity crush... when i was about 5 i had a crush on Captain Planet and Prince Charming from Snow White, but my first actual person celeb crush was Justin Timberlake
first relationship...i went out with a boy in my class in grade 2, my friends told him to ask me out so he did. we had a 'wedding' in the playground at lunchtime but i wasn't a very good girlfriend and my best friend at the time didn't like him so after a few weeks she convinced me to dump him. he wasn't happy about it either.
first job... aside from stuff like babysitting, my first real job was at Muffin Break... my boss wasn't very nice but i got free muffins and it was a fairly easy job
first blog post... i'm pretty sure it was either a really long rant about how much i hated my boss at muffin break, or a really long discussion about love triangles in swan lake and centre stage... actually the blog still exists and i've just checked it was a sort-of self introduction but mostly i just ranted about this one friend i had at the time who really annoyed me.
but the other two posts are there too.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
To further illustrate my point...
Here is an extract from one of my attempted war poems as mentioned in the previous post. Tell me that's not a damn good attempt for an 18-year-old. Just try.
~Onwards I march, enduring till morning, the relentless night.
In my mind, I walk with Graves, hand-in-hand amongst the dead,
Boys, all boys, far too young to join in death’s deceitful dance,
Only God can tell why none were given a second chance.~
~Onwards I march, enduring till morning, the relentless night.
In my mind, I walk with Graves, hand-in-hand amongst the dead,
Boys, all boys, far too young to join in death’s deceitful dance,
Only God can tell why none were given a second chance.~
A Realisation
One man's opinion is precisely that. the opinion of ONE man.
and while that might stick in your head for weeks, months, years even, you'll eventually come to realise something...
It matters not.
or better still, it only matters for as long as you'll allow it to.
if you're wondering what i'm talking about, well let me tell you a fun story. some years ago now, back when i thought i was wise, but really i was just a somewhat elitist snob who'd been overly spoonfed certain idelogies and parroted thoughts while thinking they were original. Okay, that's not quite fair. but i was young and highly impressionable, highly susceptible to the criticism of others, particularly those whose thoughts and opinions i thought mattered the most, partially because i didn't know any better. anyway during this time, i was given an assignment for one of my classes at school that entailed attempting to emulate the writing style of one of the authors we were studying at the time, or if we preferred, another related writer. this particular assignment was listed under 'creative' writing. now, creativity is of course highly subjective, meaning that not everyone is going to be impressed by whatever it is you create. also, asking a group of 17 and 18-year-olds to attempt to emulate the writing style of great war poets or novelists who far surpass them in both age and skill is quite a challenge, and the way i see it, if said young people come anywhere close to producing something that respects and reflects the original works, they should be highly congratulated. not to mention, none of us had actually experienced any kind of war firsthand, so we were more than slightly disadvantaged in the way of real experience upon which to draw.
Long story short, I, fancying myself something of a poetess at the time, decided to embark upon the ambitious project of creating a series of war poems in the style of Siegfried Sassoon/Wilfred Owen. Now, i'm not in any way claiming these poems to be amazing works of poetic genius, but coming from the inexperienced and innocent brain of a student, I'd have to say i did as decent a job as possible, given the circumstances.
However, my teacher did not seem to agree, and proceeded to crush my young poetic soul by telling me that i had not quite hit the proverbial nail on the head, in terms of what the assignment had asked of me. The result was a completely shattered self-esteem and some tears, which is not something you want to evoke in an emotionally fragile student nearing the end of her VCE studies.
just recently i was browsing through the early days of this blog, where i have in fact posted some of the attempted war poems as mentioned above. and I have to say, they are pretty damn good, especially for someone who has had absolutely no actual experience of the war or the emotions attached to it. So you know what, teacher who will remain unnamed for reasons of politeness on my end? SCREW YOU. THOSE WERE BLOODY GOOD POEMS AND I'M ACTUALLY DAMN PROUD OF THEM.
Ahh, so glad to have gotten that off my chest. if you want to see the poems, you can find them buried in the 2010 posts.
"because i'm doing this for the thrill of it, killing it"
and while that might stick in your head for weeks, months, years even, you'll eventually come to realise something...
It matters not.
or better still, it only matters for as long as you'll allow it to.
if you're wondering what i'm talking about, well let me tell you a fun story. some years ago now, back when i thought i was wise, but really i was just a somewhat elitist snob who'd been overly spoonfed certain idelogies and parroted thoughts while thinking they were original. Okay, that's not quite fair. but i was young and highly impressionable, highly susceptible to the criticism of others, particularly those whose thoughts and opinions i thought mattered the most, partially because i didn't know any better. anyway during this time, i was given an assignment for one of my classes at school that entailed attempting to emulate the writing style of one of the authors we were studying at the time, or if we preferred, another related writer. this particular assignment was listed under 'creative' writing. now, creativity is of course highly subjective, meaning that not everyone is going to be impressed by whatever it is you create. also, asking a group of 17 and 18-year-olds to attempt to emulate the writing style of great war poets or novelists who far surpass them in both age and skill is quite a challenge, and the way i see it, if said young people come anywhere close to producing something that respects and reflects the original works, they should be highly congratulated. not to mention, none of us had actually experienced any kind of war firsthand, so we were more than slightly disadvantaged in the way of real experience upon which to draw.
Long story short, I, fancying myself something of a poetess at the time, decided to embark upon the ambitious project of creating a series of war poems in the style of Siegfried Sassoon/Wilfred Owen. Now, i'm not in any way claiming these poems to be amazing works of poetic genius, but coming from the inexperienced and innocent brain of a student, I'd have to say i did as decent a job as possible, given the circumstances.
However, my teacher did not seem to agree, and proceeded to crush my young poetic soul by telling me that i had not quite hit the proverbial nail on the head, in terms of what the assignment had asked of me. The result was a completely shattered self-esteem and some tears, which is not something you want to evoke in an emotionally fragile student nearing the end of her VCE studies.
just recently i was browsing through the early days of this blog, where i have in fact posted some of the attempted war poems as mentioned above. and I have to say, they are pretty damn good, especially for someone who has had absolutely no actual experience of the war or the emotions attached to it. So you know what, teacher who will remain unnamed for reasons of politeness on my end? SCREW YOU. THOSE WERE BLOODY GOOD POEMS AND I'M ACTUALLY DAMN PROUD OF THEM.
Ahh, so glad to have gotten that off my chest. if you want to see the poems, you can find them buried in the 2010 posts.
"because i'm doing this for the thrill of it, killing it"
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