@iceberg I'm reminded of Chris Rock's statement that his job as a father was "to keep my daughters off the pole." I'm thinking Rihanna's dad (and for that matter, Miley Cyrus's) may not have thought of that.
You know what? We can go on and philosophize about how "feminism means being able to do what you want because you're a woman," but the real life truth is nobody takes you seriously when you flash your twat and act like you're sexually available all of the time, except for people who might want to fuck you. In case this sounds like I'm targeting women only, I do think the same applies for men to some extent, except that society in general seems to give them a pass on certain behaviour (STILL!) that women just don't get, and possibly never will. (I also don't think bitching and moaning about this lamentable state of affairs will do much; there are other ways around it.)
Being taken seriously means being seen and accepted as a complex human being, with moods and different ways of being, not all the same and not in play all the time. I think it's only dangerous to hang your sexuality out of your personal window (so to speak) because it's the one that can be most easily misinterpreted, and taken in the wrong context. I don't want my sexuality to be the first thing you notice about me, because what about my diverse interests? What about my intellect? Sexuality is like a shiny object to a magpie: people who seek that out will ONLY see that, to the exclusion of everything else about you.
This is what offends me about pretty much any female artist who cashes in on her looks/sexuality. Not to say don't use what you have, but be thoughtful and intelligent about it, and don't pretend like you can just deny the perception of your behaviour because you intended something different by it. If you're a performer, an artist or anyone in the public eye, the first rule is that your performance or your art, once you've done it, belongs to the audience; how they interpret it and decipher it doesn't belong to you. Best to be really thoughtful about what you're putting out there.
@fondue with cheddar I honestly didn't mean it as an indictment of anyone's particular response, so don't take it personally. It's just that I've been in too many relationships where the level of excitement/enthusiasm/genuine joy between me and the other person was so mismatched that I've realized I need it to be closer to mine. I refer to Jane's lovely article, where she mentions realizing she needed to find someone who was able and willing to remind her periodically about their feelings. Some people look on that as unnecessary and dumb, and some of us want that. Different strokes is all it is.
@honey cowl I just broke up with someone a month ago partly because the "so excited to see you" bit was missing. I dearly hope to find that someday with someone, because, cheese and rice, when you find THE Person who is categorically AWESOME with a capital A, how can you NOT be excited to see them all the time? How is it that their presence wouldn't ease the offhand daily stresses and nuisances that we go through as humans? HOW?? I just have difficulty with the "ehh, whatever" response. I want the "pee on the floor" response, because dammit, I am that wonderful! Although, I'd call my version more "heavily wagging tail in happiness" rather than "pee on the floor," but, semantics...
Yeah! Just think about it: "Kids, not even a hurricane could stop your father and I from getting married!!" That's a great beginning right there!
Worse comes to worst, you can always elope. Under the circumstances, I think most people would understand. It's really not about one day out of your life: it's about all the rest of them together.
@The Lady of Shalott @Megano! I DO live in Ottawa, and I beg to differ with you on the "don't know how to dress" point, which is an opinion and NOT a FACT :( Yes, there are a lot of sporty sorts here (a.k.a. hottie athletic types), but it's pretty sceney too, and you get your Montreal types all over the place. Frankly I wish they'd leave; maybe they can take the American Apparel stores with them, too.
Sorry. I don't like my hometown getting dissed! Makes me crabby!! :(
I'll just go over here and think of the Canal and skating... aaaaahhhh. much better!
Harold Brodkey. The man had a way with words. For example:
“There is a certain shade of red brick--a dark, almost melodious red, sombre and riddled with blue--that is my childhood in St.Louis. Not the real childhood, but the false one that extends from the dawning of consciousness until the day that one leaves home for college. That one shade of red brick and green foliage is St. Louis in the summer (the winter is just a gray sky and a crowded school bus and the wet footprints on the brown linoleum floor at school), and that brick and a pale sky is spring. It's also loneliness and the queer, self-pitying wonder that children whose families are having catastrophes feel.”
I highly recommend "First Love and Other Sorrows." The word choice in that collection just floors me; he'll describe things in such a way that you think "why didn't I think of it that way? that's exactly right!!" and you instantly understand his meaning.
@HereKitty I KNOW! I woke up this morning hearing that she'd passed away, and partly due to personal reasons, immediately thought of Carl Bernstein: what kind of motherfucking idiot could cheat on a woman as lovely as Nora Ephron? How could a man, any man, men in general, be so dense? So incapable of realizing the loveliness in their midst? HOW???
I may be asking myself this very question for the rest of my life...Rest well, dear Nora. You were loved by the right people in the end.
Speaking as someone who can't vote for Obama, I seriously, SERIOUSLY urge those of you who can to do so, please!! The rest of the world is still smarting from eight years of your Bush junior, and at the very least, we can finally stand to watch your president making a speech—nay, we actually ENJOY it—without feeling something akin to mortification, heartburn and disgust, all at once.
As one of your neighbours to the north, if you don't have the good sense to fight to get this president re-elected (signs suggest it's going to be a squeaker), I would really like to propose a swap: you can take our PM Stephen Harper (who would never in a million years actually come out and say he supported gay marriage: you should see the number of ministers who are closeted in his party...) and we'll gladly have Obama!
@alphabiddycity Yeah, you gotta work out your own feelings here. Like you wrote, it's not exactly fair to get involved with someone new when you're so entangled with the ex: you have to be well and ready to move on and accept a completely different person into your life. You can keep him as a friend, but if there are other shenanigans going on (shenanigans! not fine when you're dating a new person!), you've got to put an end to that, and draw a line. Boundaries are key.
You're 23. Don't live in the future of "maybe it will work out someday." If that's gonna happen, it'll happen. Live in the now. If you want to meet someone and get married, don't hamper yourself with endless "what ifs" with exes. 1. Figure out what you want and 2. Date until you find it. (Not necessary to do in that strict order, repeat as required...).
@SuperGogo I've experienced this same situation, except I wasn't in an actual relationship. And was doing what I could to keep in contact with people, and make the effort to maintain/grow friendships with people, and ZERO response. Not to take it personally, but I think sometimes people just decide they can't be bothered—or they get in a self-absorbed mode—so they stop making an effort. And "I thought you were busy with your dude," is kind of an excuse, on the order of "I've been soooo busy with work," or "I'm soooo tired these days." They're all lame excuses for laziness and/or the loss of interest. You pretty much have to make up your own mind if those friendships are worth holding onto, worth making the effort for, and if not, don't stress yourself about it. People who matter and care about you will make the effort.
I made the decision to consciously not expend effort towards people who seriously were not returning it recently, and holy moly, massive blocks of stress and angst just dropped off my back.
Another thought: "I thought you were busy with your dude," could be a screen for "I was busy with my dude." Crafty projection!