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Friday 16 July 2010

TA-DA!!!


SO.....my future (and imminent) son is so polite he decided to start my labor today, on a Friday, so that I have the weekend to chill. So polite he is. So I may be busy for a few days.

Stay tuned. And have a good weekend. I know I will (albeit painful!)

A

Wednesday 14 July 2010

SHE'S GOT LEGS


There are some stories in the press that have legs, whether it’s simply newsworthy or for sensationalist reasons. For example, let’s take the recently released rants (for lack of a better word) of Mel Gibson. Ahhh Mel, it’s hard not to type your name without shaking my head in disbelief - and then laughing my ass off. This story, like it or not, has legs (and hence why I must revisit it). Sensational legs actually, that are as long as Elle Macpherson’s. Now, I’m not saying this story is news (cause the way I define ‘news’, it is far from it) but it has sensationalism in spades, which in today’s world, trumps news any day. In this case, it is chock full of drama, debauchery, violence, and the downfall of a public figure. All the things most people love and usually get from their soap operas….I love it when the veneer cracks, don’t you??

The interesting subject it raises for me, other than why isn’t this man in 24-hour anger management classes with a touch of shock therapy thrown in (you threaten to kill a woman I figure it’s the least you deserve), is the racism and misogyny issue. Let’s just wrap those two issues in one, shall we, and call it a hatred for anything other than one's perfect self. Here’s the thing, the man in question, Mr. MG, is clearly heard on all these tapes hurling every offensive epithet one can think of, and he does so with a vitriol of the likes I’ve never heard. Now, saying this, I’m sure there are many out there in the privacy of their own homes doing the very same thing, I’m just glad I don’t live there. But that’s not the interesting part  - at least not to me. What is interesting is the dialogue this kicks up in regards to what constitutes racism. Whoopi Golberg just came out in some sort of defense of Mel G, saying she’s known him for years, he’s hung out with her kids, and he may have overstepped the mark with his words (um, you THINK?), but he’s not a racist. And she knows this cause she’s black.

Okay, let’s give her the benefit, and say that she’s had a very nice friendship with him over the years, and he’s taken her kids to ice cream, sweet Uncle Mel. But my thought is this, his hatred is in there, percolating, and just because he is down with Whoopi, does not mean he is down with all black people. In fact, he not only thinks they're rapists, but in my book, if you can whip out the N word (amongst other slurs) and use it with such force you have some serious issues that need tending to. But that’s me.

Then I wonder, if you’re racist against one group, but accepting of another, what exactly are you? Selectively racist? Discriminatory? “Well, he loves black women, but those Jews, they started all the wars.” (his words, NOT mine). And from what I’ve heard on those tapes, MG is neither selective nor discriminatory when it comes to whom he hates, he throws them all in the big boiling cauldron to meet their death. In my book, hatred of differences is just that, hatred. And epithets, although easy to say they’re just words, are words - words with power and history behind them that should not be thrown around lightly.

The other interesting thing is the whole misogyny thing – which I think gets a sad backseat to the racism. Cause in my book, there are people out there who hate women right up there with other minorities. Not to mention, far too often, this hatred turns into violence, which often goes unchecked and unreported. So if Whoopi wants Mel, hell she and her kids can have him, I’m more worried about him burying women in his rose garden. It is also interesting how many people have come out and said that due to the fact that his ex girlfriend – Oksana whatever her name is – is a ‘slutty gold-digger’, and I quote, ‘drove him to it’ she somehow deserves what she is getting. I see, that old ‘if I wear a short skirt, I’m asking for it’ argument. 

People, he picked her, and it wasn’t for her intellect. He then of course showered her with money, knocked her up, and did all this behind his wife’s back. I can’t say I’m going to feel too sorry for him at this point. As for her, fine, maybe she did have an agenda – many do - and maybe she is as manipulative and duplicitous as they come (well done with the taping sistah!), but he still could’ve walked away – & never cheated on his wife in the first place! -  without morphing into the racist, violent HULK….who is of course, is still very religious and a man of God! Praise Jesus.

Ohhhh the irony is what keeps me alive. 

Tuesday 13 July 2010

TO BREAST OR NOT TO BREAST


So there is a celebrity over here, names aren’t actually important cause to be honest, it’s tenuous as to what she is famous for…anyway, she has said she had to stop breastfeeding out of fear of being photographed by the paparazzi if she gets caught out in Starbucks or the post office. So at three weeks she decided to call it a day. My first thought of course, was breastfeed at home you silly cow then go to Starbucks. Or, send your assistant or husband to get you your caffeine fix. I’m sure your partner would be more than happy to flee the house for some fresh air and silence. Come to think of it, my partner is already making lists of all the things he can help me with outside the home. Curious that.

I think the subject of breastfeeding is an interesting one in terms of how society still views it. I believe that here they just passed a law (could be an ordinance, never really understood the difference) that protects a woman to be able to do it in public places. And to take it a step further, some shops/restaurants can even advertise themselves as breastfeeding friendly places. It’s hard to believe they even had to pass this thing, but I think by now we know the times we are living in and not much makes sense. Here’s the thing, it’s a natural act, no? (and in my opinion far less annoying or offensive than cell phones!) And I’m not saying you should whip out your chest out in the middle of dinner and let them fall into the bread basket, but with discretion the act can be carried out quite discreetly and not to mention, it's kind of adorable - that could be my hormones talking. And seriously, at this point, are people still ruffled by the idea of a woman feeding her child through means of what her body biologically gave her?? Get over it prudes! If you have a problem with it, turn your head, or use your cell phone. It’s not like the kid is going to stop, burp and let out a long lingering sigh followed by a ‘god damn that sh*t is good!’ Then again, I think that would make the process all the more amusing.

I went to a class the other day where they set about teaching you how to do it. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks. Firstly, the woman teaching it was downright scary, she was keen to teach the tough love approach to make sure you really got the message. In short, breast feed your baby, or face the consequences – she knew our addresses so I wasn’t going to chance it. It was all doom and gloom on the formula side of things (and damn near child abuse according to her), and I left there thinking I was a criminal if I even attempted to feed my kid out of a bottle. According to her, if you’re doing it right – and it’s all angles and placement from what I can tell (yeah, tell me that at 2 in the morning, my breast is just getting shoved on in there!) then there shouldn’t be a problem at all. In fact, she says it should be a “100% pleasurable experience.” Her words not mine. Um, yeah, okay Nazi hippie. I’m not sure there is anything on the planet that is 100% pleasurable. Okay, ice cream…and well, sex ranks pretty high up there. But breastfeeding? Me thinks you protest too much. Not to mention some of my friends are literally in tatters and tears after one week of trying to breastfeed. I’ll make sure to tell them they are doing it wrong. They’ll love that.

She then went on…and on…– the dead horse was beaten to the point of mince at this point (what a barbaric saying, ‘beating a dead horse,’ no???)– to say that in the UK the rate of which women drop out and switch to formula is alarming and epidemic in comparison to the rest of the world. Breastfeeding in other countries - brace yourself and your chest – carries on in some places till the child is 7 years old. Yes, you heard me, SEVEN...listen, if I was in a village somewhere in Africa and there was limited food and resources, I get it, it’s a lifeline. But otherwise, there is no reason I can see a seven year old ‘latching on.’ In simple terms, if my kid can talk, chew a steak, and ride a skateboard, it’s not getting near my chest. Sorry lady, but I have my limits.

STONED...AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY


Recently there has been an international outcry in response to a planned execution of a woman in Iran by stoning; The crime was – brace yourself – adultery - of which she was convicted of in 2006. A top human rights official in Iran responded by saying that the Islamic regime is now reviewing the sentence (but not due to the pressure, cause that would be submissive; they’re just simply rethinking things. Mmm, hmm, okay). The woman in question confessed to the crime after receiving 99 lashes – I’m thinking that deserved a petite outcry in itself, but hey that’s me. She later of course – I’m assuming once her back healed and the poor woman could gather her senses, recanted her confession.

There are so many problems with the above paragraph – aside from my grammar - it’s hard to know where to start. Firstly, what the hell year is it over there? Stoning? Lashes? Seriously?! I realize each country across the world has their own way of enforcing law and order – some of them are damn scary if you ask me – but is this form of punishment not a bit archaic and barbaric? That was rhetorical of course....More importantly, I’d like to know if men are stoned as well for adultery, or is this just an anti-feminist thing designed to make sure women in this region truly know that they are fundamentally screwed for being born with female parts.

I mean, if you look at the big picture of being a woman I’d say we have it pretty rough; We get our periods; we have bad hair days (far more than men), we get cellulite, stretch marks, age whereas men get more ‘distinguished,’ and of course the kicker, get stoned for talking to the neighbor’s husband (as I’m sure that was the extent of what this woman did) when they get a medal of achievement for being virile and duplicitous with half the neighborhood. And don't even get me started about how female babies are treated in China.

Then again, as barbaric as the stoning law is – and it is – I’m wondering if America had this law would cheating come to a screeching halt?! Talk about a deterrent that would throw a wrench in a man’s mid-life crisis. You cheat. You die. I can hear the collective rush of zippers being zipped up tightly as we speak. ‘Yeah, Frank went off with his twenty-two year old secretary. But Mary’s fine actually. We’re going shopping today for her new dress to wear to his stoning! She's thinking Cavalli.”

The other thing I can’t help to think, as Iran is debating whether or not to bow down to the pressure of the international community, is what other countries think of our methods of enforcing law. We – speaking of America - along with 58 other nations, endorse capital punishment. Which many other countries – England for starters -  find the existence of, in it itself, barbaric. It of course begs to then ask, what methods of killing another human being are deemed appropriate – if any at all? Okay chucking rocks at a woman for having an affair is heavily extreme. But some man in Utah was recently killed by firing squad. Apparently he chose this method of death himself; clearly he was after the dramatic exit. I can’t say that being ripped apart by bullets sounds like a picnic either. Granted he shot someone trying to escape from prison, not exactly the same thing as having a fling on your husband. 

See, once again, the woman gets the short end of the stick. I shall tell my son upon his arrival how truly lucky he is.

Sunday 11 July 2010

OLE OLE!!


Oh Paul, you little crafty cephalopod mollusk! Who knew that an octopus could garner as much press and adulation as the World Cup winners themselves? (Well done Spain). With the end of the whole affair wrapped up and a deserving team celebrated, I am now of course officially in sports mourning. Come to think of it, I’m not sure who feels more unmoored today, Paul or I? I’m thinking he probably has it worse, as now, like Wilbur in 'Charlotte’s Web' he has to face the fact that people are fickle, attention will always fade, and his gifts will soon be forgotten – it’s a cruel world. [Sorry, I find it hard to be upbeat when I'm in mourning]. In fact, the chefs are probably sharpening the knives as we speak as he’s squealing internally, ‘wait, I can predict the US Open, Darts, Billiards, anything..for the love of Octopus God!’

God I love sushi. Sorry Paul.

Sorry I digress. Anyway back to my pain, cause this is also a selfish world. Now that the World Cup is over, and Wimbledon is done, I have to face the rude awakening that the summer is like a freight train going 300 mph towards…well, winter. I must admit that for awhile I feel a monstrous void without my continual coverage and channel hopping from one nail biting match to another (be it tennis or football). Even matches I didn’t care about provided good background distraction for a gal whose movement is limited. Okay, okay, I could go outside and do summery things, which I do, but I am certainly in no shape to whip out the bikini and pose by the pool! I do have regard for others you know. I liken the whole summer sporting experience (and subsequent void) to a lover that has been super attentive to me during our seasonal fling; one who has provided me with emotional highs and lows, incredible suspense, mystery, some damn good showings in the performance department (which is what it’s all about, no??) and then the pinnacle, a send off that is not to be forgotten. 

And then POOF, he disappears like Kaiser Sose, and now nada, I’m back to being a spinster (for metaphor’s sake of course. My partner, happily is still within residence). Okay, I still have the U.S Open, and Formula One and Hamilton is racing well, so all is not lost.

The problem is, when it comes to sports, I seem to only like the things that take place on a grand scale – Grand Slams, World Cup, Olympics etc. I like big events where the entire country or world takes part, where you can almost feel the global energy vibrating throughout the cosmos. I’m a passionate emotional gal, and sports on this level tick all the boxes in that regard, what can I say? I mean think of what occurred this year at the World Cup alone: we had tantrums (in serious supply), players striking and whining publicly about their big meanie managers (spoiled tossers!), coaches losing their rags, governments reprimanding teams due to poor performances, shame, outrage and humiliation!! I mean it’s better than a soap opera. And in tennis, there was of course the mighty upset of Roger Federer in the semis. You could hear Mirka’s (that’s his wife to yee not in the know) groan as she realized she would have to pack their fleet of Louis Vuittons and head back to Switzerland early. Oh the shame. 

What the hell am I going to do with my time now?...Oh, wait a minute, something tells me in ten days or so things may get a bit busier, just by a fraction. :-) Maybe Paul can make my life easier and pick a date for the arrival of this watermelon stretching me from the inside out! Go on Paul, help a girl out. I’ll swear off octopus nigiri forever, I promise!

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