My New Year Resolution
I realise talking about New Year resolutions is a bit trite and unoriginal but, the things is, when the last days of December are rolling around, and so I am, it always seems like an appropriate topic. It's that time of year when all the champagne, ham, pudding and other Christmas goodies seem to suddenly morph from good cheer into a thicker waistline and the well-worn, and time honoured, tradition of the New Year's resolution.
Mine never change; I'm a reputed recycler of resolutions. I tell you, if I actually stuck to all of my New Year's resolutions I'd have a body fit for the cat walk of a Victoria's Secret parade! I'd be so freaking healthy I'd just about glow the dark! And, of course, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this because I'd be too busy sweating it out at the gym or pounding the pavement!
Ok, so, this year I'm trying a completely different strategy. I'm not going to deny myself anything! I solemnly swear to indulge my in love of all things delicious and chocolatey. Under no circumstances will I refuse extra helpings of my favourite dessert! I will drink at least six cups of coffee a day with sugar and cream! Yes, I'm saying good bye to those shorts and runners of mine, and hellooooo to big Macs and fries! And, if I feel like laying in front of the telly, in my loosest fitting tracky, munching potato chips for hours on end, damn it, I'll do that too!
Now, the way I figure it, from past experiences, is that I'll have broken all of these new New Year resolutions by mid January at the very latest. So, using this brilliant reverse-self-psychology plan of mine, I'm estimating that by the end of March I'll be fitter and healthier than I've been in years!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Death, Taxes, and Grocery Shopping
Something is really bugging me. So, I've made up my mind right here and now to deal with in a way that only I, Alex, as a woman, can! In the time honoured tradition of my sisters worldwide; the same way generations of my sex have been dealing with things that have irritated them for years—nae, centuries! I'm going to have a damned good bitch about it!
Ok, so I went shopping the other day. I decided to visit a new centre that's just opened up near our house. I tell you it's huge! It's like, "Oh, you want milk? Sure, you just go down this aisle, make a left at the jams and mustards, take a right at the fruit and vege, keep going past the spagetti and noodles--and you just can't miss it."
It's such a drag, but as Hamish Maxwell, Philip Morris' chairman is said to have said: "People may ultimately stop drinking or smoking, though I don't believe it, but you can bet your life they'lll keep on eating."
Damn it, he's right! People's eating habits may change, but that's about all.
Speaking of which, how come when ever a label says "special low fat" or "special low salt", or "special" anything for that matter, it almost always also means special high price? My pet peeve is "special" prices that they've just knocked a measely two or three cents off. Big deal! We don't even have one and two cents coins in Australia anymore, so how can they do that? And, on that note, there ought to be a law against prices with a second decimal place number nine. It's ridiculous!
Ah, but I digress...
Well, I managed to find everything we needed, plus a whole lot more, so I headed for the checkout. As I stood there, and stood there some more--yes, by the time the average person reaches the age of fifty they will have spent approxmately five days queuing-- I couldn't help but wonder why some people just stand there and then wait until they're told the amount of their purchase, before they actually start rumaging through their handbag, wallet, or what ever to find something to pay with. What are they thinking? "Maybe today I'll be the lucky one millionth customer who doesn't have to pay for my groceries."?
Ok, so, then made my way back to the vast expanse of bitumen known as the shoppers' carpark, and damn it, I couldn't remember where I'd parked! A friend of mine drives this gaudy red topless bug thing with black and white faux cow hide seat covers. She never loses her car.
I did find my vehicle, eventually, exactly where I'd left it, but two huge fourwheel drives were parked either side of it. I had to literally turnside ways to squeeze my scrawny little body in the dirver's seat, and then I had to play Russian roulette to back my car out because there was just no way I could see past those huger than huge suckers.
I tell you, shopping centres are a domestic endurance; a ruthless struggle in a suburban jungle!
And, I tell you something else, death, taxes and grocery shopping are the three things in life you just can't aviod.
Something is really bugging me. So, I've made up my mind right here and now to deal with in a way that only I, Alex, as a woman, can! In the time honoured tradition of my sisters worldwide; the same way generations of my sex have been dealing with things that have irritated them for years—nae, centuries! I'm going to have a damned good bitch about it!
Ok, so I went shopping the other day. I decided to visit a new centre that's just opened up near our house. I tell you it's huge! It's like, "Oh, you want milk? Sure, you just go down this aisle, make a left at the jams and mustards, take a right at the fruit and vege, keep going past the spagetti and noodles--and you just can't miss it."
It's such a drag, but as Hamish Maxwell, Philip Morris' chairman is said to have said: "People may ultimately stop drinking or smoking, though I don't believe it, but you can bet your life they'lll keep on eating."
Damn it, he's right! People's eating habits may change, but that's about all.
Speaking of which, how come when ever a label says "special low fat" or "special low salt", or "special" anything for that matter, it almost always also means special high price? My pet peeve is "special" prices that they've just knocked a measely two or three cents off. Big deal! We don't even have one and two cents coins in Australia anymore, so how can they do that? And, on that note, there ought to be a law against prices with a second decimal place number nine. It's ridiculous!
Ah, but I digress...
Well, I managed to find everything we needed, plus a whole lot more, so I headed for the checkout. As I stood there, and stood there some more--yes, by the time the average person reaches the age of fifty they will have spent approxmately five days queuing-- I couldn't help but wonder why some people just stand there and then wait until they're told the amount of their purchase, before they actually start rumaging through their handbag, wallet, or what ever to find something to pay with. What are they thinking? "Maybe today I'll be the lucky one millionth customer who doesn't have to pay for my groceries."?
Ok, so, then made my way back to the vast expanse of bitumen known as the shoppers' carpark, and damn it, I couldn't remember where I'd parked! A friend of mine drives this gaudy red topless bug thing with black and white faux cow hide seat covers. She never loses her car.
I did find my vehicle, eventually, exactly where I'd left it, but two huge fourwheel drives were parked either side of it. I had to literally turnside ways to squeeze my scrawny little body in the dirver's seat, and then I had to play Russian roulette to back my car out because there was just no way I could see past those huger than huge suckers.
I tell you, shopping centres are a domestic endurance; a ruthless struggle in a suburban jungle!
And, I tell you something else, death, taxes and grocery shopping are the three things in life you just can't aviod.
Men on Top
Ladies, is it possible to imagine anything more erotically decadent and luxurious than being on the bottom? No, no, no! I'm no talking about being the bottom a-la bdsm! I'm talking about being on the bottom—literally—laying back on that big old bed and letting him do all the hard yakka and sweating while you close your eyes and just enjoy it all. Yes, good o' fashioned him on top of her sex!
In years gone, I guess it was considered rather unmanly for a man to allow a woman to be on top. Oh sure, I'm sure it went on, but I'm also sure it wasn't ever talked about, especially amongst the fairer sex. In fact I would wager it would have been thought of as rather kinky. Women, or more correctly—'ladies', just weren't meant to get aroused sufficiently to want take a man sexually. It was considered unnatural for a woman to feel that way. In The Merchant's Tale, Chaucer described an aroused woman as "mannish". And, in Tom Jones, Henry Fielding declared, "I dare to swear the wench was willing as he!"
So, is it 'mannish', or in appropriate, for a woman to take control during sex and place herself on top?
Well, of course it damn well is!
Men are physically stronger than women, they're meant to be the active partner during sex. It's the way they're built—strong arms and legs for supporting themselves over their delicate and venerated women. Women,on the other hand, have soft cushiony butts to rest back on during sex and bodies that are soft and smooth—ideal for pumping up and down on.
I think it just dandy that men have discovered that women don't lose half their brain cells when they get married; that their perfectly capable of balancing a cheque book, and equally qualified to assess and have a say in how their country is run. It is, however, rather disappointing to me that women's liberation has spoilt certain aspects of sex.
Once upon a time sex was no effort at all for us women. It was all lay back and enjoy, "Take me. Take me! I'm yours!" Now, thanks to the likes of the Blue Stocking Brigade, he wants a piece of the action, or rather lack of it, too! It's just not fair! I tell you, I want to see women liberated from this kind of women's liberation!
Ok, so, maybe life isn't always fair? Maybe it isn't all about getting what you want? If it was, I'd be laying naked on a topical island, an icey margarita in one hand and fan in the other, while Ben Affleck (also naked) laid on top of me panting, sweating, and working his cute little butt off as....
Ah, but I digress.
Well, I still want see men back on top, exactly where they belong, serving and pleasuring women everywhere!
But, seriously, do you believe women's movement has helped or hindered our sex lives? Are men sometimes perhaps intimidated by women with a sex drives as strong, or stronger than their own, or do most find it a big turn on? Does it perhaps depend on how secure the man is with his own sexuality?
I really don't want to get too personal here, but what do you think about it? :)
Footnote: Surveys show that men generally support "women's issues," more than women do! They (surveys) also show that women generally believe women's liberation has benefited men more then women. That is, women have assumed more responsibility for financially supporting the family than men have assumed for caring for the house and family. Hochschild (1989) interviewed 50 two-career couples and found that the women worked 15 hours more each week than their husbands did.
Ladies, is it possible to imagine anything more erotically decadent and luxurious than being on the bottom? No, no, no! I'm no talking about being the bottom a-la bdsm! I'm talking about being on the bottom—literally—laying back on that big old bed and letting him do all the hard yakka and sweating while you close your eyes and just enjoy it all. Yes, good o' fashioned him on top of her sex!
In years gone, I guess it was considered rather unmanly for a man to allow a woman to be on top. Oh sure, I'm sure it went on, but I'm also sure it wasn't ever talked about, especially amongst the fairer sex. In fact I would wager it would have been thought of as rather kinky. Women, or more correctly—'ladies', just weren't meant to get aroused sufficiently to want take a man sexually. It was considered unnatural for a woman to feel that way. In The Merchant's Tale, Chaucer described an aroused woman as "mannish". And, in Tom Jones, Henry Fielding declared, "I dare to swear the wench was willing as he!"
So, is it 'mannish', or in appropriate, for a woman to take control during sex and place herself on top?
Well, of course it damn well is!
Men are physically stronger than women, they're meant to be the active partner during sex. It's the way they're built—strong arms and legs for supporting themselves over their delicate and venerated women. Women,on the other hand, have soft cushiony butts to rest back on during sex and bodies that are soft and smooth—ideal for pumping up and down on.
I think it just dandy that men have discovered that women don't lose half their brain cells when they get married; that their perfectly capable of balancing a cheque book, and equally qualified to assess and have a say in how their country is run. It is, however, rather disappointing to me that women's liberation has spoilt certain aspects of sex.
Once upon a time sex was no effort at all for us women. It was all lay back and enjoy, "Take me. Take me! I'm yours!" Now, thanks to the likes of the Blue Stocking Brigade, he wants a piece of the action, or rather lack of it, too! It's just not fair! I tell you, I want to see women liberated from this kind of women's liberation!
Ok, so, maybe life isn't always fair? Maybe it isn't all about getting what you want? If it was, I'd be laying naked on a topical island, an icey margarita in one hand and fan in the other, while Ben Affleck (also naked) laid on top of me panting, sweating, and working his cute little butt off as....
Ah, but I digress.
Well, I still want see men back on top, exactly where they belong, serving and pleasuring women everywhere!
But, seriously, do you believe women's movement has helped or hindered our sex lives? Are men sometimes perhaps intimidated by women with a sex drives as strong, or stronger than their own, or do most find it a big turn on? Does it perhaps depend on how secure the man is with his own sexuality?
I really don't want to get too personal here, but what do you think about it? :)
Footnote: Surveys show that men generally support "women's issues," more than women do! They (surveys) also show that women generally believe women's liberation has benefited men more then women. That is, women have assumed more responsibility for financially supporting the family than men have assumed for caring for the house and family. Hochschild (1989) interviewed 50 two-career couples and found that the women worked 15 hours more each week than their husbands did.
My Disappearing Christmas
Dr. Seuss told us, in his own special way, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". Well, nobody's stolen anything this Christmas. Oh, but Christmas, the real Christmas, the one I grew up with, seems to be disappearing faster than Santy at dawn. I see it eroding year by year as we bow more and more to ridiculous notions of political correctness and over the top secularism. Every year it gets worse. Can't we be spared the cultural and religious differences just long enough to enjoy a good old-fashioned "Merry Christmas"?
Increasingly, the season is marred by debates over whether, or not, it's proper to display nativity scenes, sing carols, put up Christmas decorations, and so it goes, on and on. Just last week I read about how Santas around Australia have been banned from calling the exuberant and cheerful, "Ho, ho, ho!" because "some people might be upset by it".
What should we expect next? Is a fat Santa really a good role model for our kids? Should one of the three wise men be represented by a female, so the women's movement won't feel left out? Should the baby Jesus be depicted as coffee coloured to avoid being seen as racially prejudiced? And, please, before anyone jumps on me, I'm not talking about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ because I feel that's just a peripheral thing for Christians to revere. Let's face it, Christmas has been so modified and modernised over the last two thousand years that it means so much more and so much less than that now. I'm talking, quite simply, about a good happy time of the year for people to forget their differences and unite in friendship, tolerance, and understanding.
I'm not a Christian but I can still enjoy the Christmas season with all its glitter, trimmings, and seasonal excitement, can't I? Well, Christmas pageants and decorations are gradually disappearing from public schools and many other buildings, and the rousing "Merry Christmas!" is evolving into a generic and bland "Happy Holidays". We're just so afraid of offending someone, or some group, somehow. Which someone, which group, and how, no one really seems very clear about.
Secular, smecular! I don't want a sanitised season! If we can't understand and celebrate our differences, can't we at least be open minded enough to respect and tolerate them?
According to the song, "It's the most wonderful time of the year..." yet it's getting to feel more and more tiresome.
A little more giving, which is the basic message of Christmas, would surely help.
Now, please, may I wish you a very Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And, damn it--anything else that you choose to celebrate, that happens to fall in the month of December!
Dr. Seuss told us, in his own special way, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". Well, nobody's stolen anything this Christmas. Oh, but Christmas, the real Christmas, the one I grew up with, seems to be disappearing faster than Santy at dawn. I see it eroding year by year as we bow more and more to ridiculous notions of political correctness and over the top secularism. Every year it gets worse. Can't we be spared the cultural and religious differences just long enough to enjoy a good old-fashioned "Merry Christmas"?
Increasingly, the season is marred by debates over whether, or not, it's proper to display nativity scenes, sing carols, put up Christmas decorations, and so it goes, on and on. Just last week I read about how Santas around Australia have been banned from calling the exuberant and cheerful, "Ho, ho, ho!" because "some people might be upset by it".
What should we expect next? Is a fat Santa really a good role model for our kids? Should one of the three wise men be represented by a female, so the women's movement won't feel left out? Should the baby Jesus be depicted as coffee coloured to avoid being seen as racially prejudiced? And, please, before anyone jumps on me, I'm not talking about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ because I feel that's just a peripheral thing for Christians to revere. Let's face it, Christmas has been so modified and modernised over the last two thousand years that it means so much more and so much less than that now. I'm talking, quite simply, about a good happy time of the year for people to forget their differences and unite in friendship, tolerance, and understanding.
I'm not a Christian but I can still enjoy the Christmas season with all its glitter, trimmings, and seasonal excitement, can't I? Well, Christmas pageants and decorations are gradually disappearing from public schools and many other buildings, and the rousing "Merry Christmas!" is evolving into a generic and bland "Happy Holidays". We're just so afraid of offending someone, or some group, somehow. Which someone, which group, and how, no one really seems very clear about.
Secular, smecular! I don't want a sanitised season! If we can't understand and celebrate our differences, can't we at least be open minded enough to respect and tolerate them?
According to the song, "It's the most wonderful time of the year..." yet it's getting to feel more and more tiresome.
A little more giving, which is the basic message of Christmas, would surely help.
Now, please, may I wish you a very Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! And, damn it--anything else that you choose to celebrate, that happens to fall in the month of December!
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