Big Love?

I watched an episode of the new series on SBS tonight, Big Love. For those of my multitudinous readers who have not heard of the series, it is basically about a familiy of polygamists that live in a suburban town in America. I guess it is based on the pockets of fundamentalist polygamist mormons that exist in pockets in places like Arizona and Salt Lake City.
Anyway the show brought up to me an interesting point. There was this scene where a poligamist who had many wives and was a sort of spiritual leader for the fundamentalists is being interviewed by a paper. They are asking him questions about the type of life he leads and the legal implications, and he says "if the American government can give rights to homosexuals living in relationships, why cant they allow us to live our lives as we chose and leave us in peace?"
Good point. I tend to agree.

Personally I dont think that i could be a second or third or tenth wife in a polygamist family. I like attention too much. But if the women are consenting and able to cope with sharing a husband, if the families are healthy and happy, then why all the fuss? Kids with a large loving support network, siblings to play with and loving parents. As long as it isnt all child brides and dirty old men, I really cant see the problem with people living the way they want.

I think we spend too much time worrying about other people's lives. We care too much about what religious book they are reading, who they are sleeping with and what they believe in. Just because you dont think having two wives is right for you doesnt mean that it is wrong for Joe Bloggs and his wives Betty Cathy and Ursula Bloggs. We are all different. We all have different morals and beliefs. We are all most comfortable in different situations.

So I say GO ON! HAVE YOUR WIVES! And let me have my man, Pink and JD from SCRUBS. I think that is right for me.

Sexuality

I dont know what makes someone gay and someone else not gay. I know that some people are gay and some people are not.

I know that for some reason it is such a horrible thing, that people are condemned and isolated by their families and loved ones because they are gay. I know that sometimes being gay means being deceitful, I know that sometimes it means that you have to do one thing to pretend that you arent doing another.

I was "seeing" a man once, who was gay, or he thought he was, or he wasnt sure. All I know is that we never had a real relationship, but he let everyone in his family and in his extended group of friends think we were. Why? So that he did not have to face their pain and disappointment when they found out the truth.

I dont blame him for this. His family were rurals, from the country, and he had 3 older brothers and a younger sister, the boys were all working in the mining industry, married and with children and his sister engaged to a man, a miner. Their realm and his truth were not compatible so he pulled me into his lies so that they could sleep well at night.

I lost contact with him, somewhere down the tracks when he moved interstate and I moved on with my life. I did hear at one stage that he was living with a woman, in the country town he grew up in. I remembered how it was, being with him and knowing that there were little secrets, and it was sad to think that he still had not faced the truth of his sexuality. I still know his truth, I have known it since the night he confessed with tears and heartbreak, and I know that he is still living a lie.

It is unfair, I think. It is unfair that I can profess my love for my other half so proudly and openly, simply for the reason that I chose to love a man and not another woman. It is unfair that this man I once new has to live a lie, or half a lie, and always have the truth eating him up inside. All because he does not feel how I do, and does not conform to the apparent norm. What is normal anyway?

My Pet Hates

Well, dear readers, two posts in one week! I know that i am spoiling you, but I feel that, as my loyal fans and devotees, you all deserve it.

I've had a hell of a day. The kind of day that makes you want throw random objects at innocent people. The kind of day that leaves you wishing you had the guts to tell rude old people to get fucked (harsh, arent I?).

Today it seemed as though people were going out of their way to piss me off. Whether they knew it or not, it seemed that every person knew exactly what my pet hates were and all were intent on turning my day into my own personal hell......

So here we go. My pet hates. In a list, on a blog, for all the world to see. Hopefully those of you who apparently love to go out of your WAY to annoy me (and I know you are out there, im just hoping that you are reading this blog) will take some notes....

1) One word replies to text messages. Really people, why waste your 30c? Why waste money on stupid text messages that say things like "ok" or "cool" or even worse "yup" (worse because its not even a real word, even the online dictionary describes it as slang). A certain man in my life sent me an annoying one worder today (and yes it was the evil "yup") which irritated me so much that I almost threw my phone in front of an oncoming truck. My figuring is: if you cant do me the decency of writing me a complete sentence, or at the very least the text version of a complete sentence, the DON'T BOTHER WRITING AT ALL. Easy.

2) People who call me "girly" over the phone and then assume that Im either a receptionist or a secretary. These people are generally older males, and they generally think that they can talk down to me and treat me like an idiot who wont understand the "big words" that they are saying. Just because I am female and I have a nice phone manner does not mean that I work in a role that involves me picking up some overpaid assholes drycleaning or filing his paperwork. No offence to all those secretaries and receptionists out there but that is NOT ME and if it ever is me, I will take my own life. Wait though, secretaries arent called that anymore are they? Personal Assistants now, thats right... bet thats their pet hate- being called a secretary! However I think that even if I WAS a receptionist or a personal assistant, these horrid old men would still be one of my pet hates.

3)People who mispronounce words. For instance "aks" instead of ask, "liberry" instead of library, "excape" instead of escape. I mean really, its cute when you are four years old, but when you are thirty-three and you need to aks me directions so you can excape to the liberry, it really doesnt sit so well. If you can't pronounce simple words, take a class, practice your pronunciation, or if all else fails, say something else. Request directions so that you can hide in the big place with lots of books for christs sake, I dont care.
Dont get me wrong- this isnt an issue with slang, or shortening words or anything like that. I also dont have problems with people who cant pronounce big words- deoxyribonucleic acid for example - even funny names like Dzminski - they arent a problem, because WHO CAN pronounce those words unless they have a triple degree in science, english and russian history?

4) (and finally) Big women in tiny clothes. You know the ones. Size 20 and trying to fit into a size 12? The ones whose guts are so huge that they not only fall over the waistband of their pants but actually hang out from under their shirts? You see them all the time- big fat girls wearing little tiny outfits that make them look like really bad comedy skits, fat bulging out tight sleeves, pouring from under tiny skirts and pooling around ankles adorned with impossible heels. For some reason, I find these people sad and kind of frightening. Sad, because it seems that they have bowed to social convention and think that they must squeeze themselves into ridiculous outfits in the name of fashion, and frightening because they have the guts to wear these outfits and seem to think that they actually look hot in these outfits. I also worry about where their friends are- I mean if I close friend of mine was about to walk the streets with more muffin top than clothing, I would stop them and tell them. And I would like to think that if I were to do the same, my friends would tell me. The only thing worse than a cheap slut is a cheap slut with cankles and a gunt. Really.

Ok well thats it. Now you know that I am a horrible person with really stupid pet hates. Oh I did forget one, the one about people who try to force their religion on me, but in these times of vilification tension and hate, I thought I would leave that one for another time.....

Have fun

Traumatised

Thats right dear readers, as above. I am traumatised.

I have spent the last 15 minutes doing something I would have to say is the most disgusting and unnecessary thing that I have every had to do. So disgusting that I am this close to declaring myself vegetarian and joining a hippie commune in far north Queensland.

I guess I should start from the beginning.

My beloved other half, in all his divine wisdom and incredible intelligence, bought himself a frozen chicken to stuff and roast. Now the man of my life is a relatively good cook (when he feels like it that is), and for him the joy and challenge of making stuffing and shoving it up a chickens arse is quite satisfying. Not so much for me...

Now love of my life took this chicken out of the freezer to defrost on Sunday, as he had grand ambitions to create his take on the traditional culinary masterpiece that is the Sunday Roast. This chicken has now sat in the fridge until today, which is wednesday, awaiting the attention and genius of my love. This, unfortunately, was not to be.

It started with an email. Honey, do you want to cook the roast? Well yes, I thought, I am a capable woman, I can breach corporations to court for large amounts of money, I can do 8 pushups on my toes, I can make several different variations of stir fry and a great red curry, OF COURSE I CAN ROAST A CHICKEN!!!!

Love of my life then emailed me a complicated recipe that involved apricots, breadcrumbs, onions, lemon rind..... oh and about 6000 other items that I have blocked from my mind through trauma.

I took one look and thought, hang on. I stick what where? He wants the apricots up.... there? APRICOTS UP WHERE??!!??

So, I begin. Cook the onion, heat the apricots, mix the stuffing. Easy. Sort of like a cake. So, full of confidence and smug pride in the fact that I can ROAST A CHICKEN, I take take the next step. I took the frozen chicken out of the plastic freezer bag.

Um can i say EW and YUCK. First of all, there was DEAD CHOOK BLOOD. pouring out of that disgusting carcass! And cold loose chicken skin. And then the worst bit, the chickens arse.

Now I tried really hard to spoon the stuff up it, keeping my hands as far from the dead chooks rear as I possibly could. However this is very time consuming, considering you have to hold it open and carefully press it into place. So, out of frustration and distress, I grabbed the gobfuls of apricot muck, and stuck my hands right up there too. It was the single most horrifying moment of my life ( i have an irrational fear of raw chicken). I was raping a dead chickens arse. If I was a chicken I would feel violated.

Dont get me wrong, I have roasted before. But to me a roast is a pre-prepared chicken roll that i bung in the oven with a couple of potatoes and some pumpkin. Not a whole chicken with horrible skin and a rear end that requires my attention.


Now I feel dirty. i feel like I need to cleanse my entire body, to scrub the feeling of raw chicken arse off my body. I am horrified. I think I am going to need counselling to recover from this horrifying ordeal. In fact, I am going to have a shower right now and take in the big scrubbing brush to scrup this off my skin.......

Toodles

SPORT SUX

I have a confession to make. Some may be shocked. Some may be offended. Some may NEVER READ MY BLOG AGAIN (dum dum DUUUUM)......

I am really crap at sport. There you go, said it. I am probably one of the worst sports players that ever walked the earth. I am so bad that when I played soccer, they would only sub me on the field when an equally shit player came off and they would generally place me in a position where I did the least damage humanly possible. Well, maybe thats an overstatement, I played soccer for 15 years and Im sure I managed to play a few half decent games. Probably only by accident though.

Its not that Im unfit, I go to the gym 4 times a week and I can run 5k on a treadmill. Its not that Im selfish, I love team sports and I am always looking out for whats best for the team. Its just unfortunate that what is best for the team is me sitting on the sideline with a beer and a rug over my knees.

My problem is not my brain, I know WHAT I am supposed to do and I know WHEN I am supposed to do it- though WHAT I should be doing is NOT PLAYING and WHEN I should be doing it is NEVER.

The problem is, and all my fellow uncos out there will completely relate to this, that my feet will not do what my brain tells it to do. My brain knows, my feet know, but they seem to be ignoring each other when the time comes for them to act like a team.
My eyes dont work, my arms turn to jelly. All of my hard work and training go out the window when I play team sport. My legs seize and refuse to run. People on the sideline scream 'get moving Ris' but they dont realise that I am virtually glued to the spot.

I think it is actually a combination of pessimism and fear that destroy me. I am afraid of letting people down. I am afraid of fucking up and costing my team a goal. I am afraid that they will all laugh at me. i am afraid that I will be the last one picked..... well I probably already was.

The stupid thing is, all I ever wanted to do was play sport. I was always so keen. I ran in every race (I think once I even came SECOND last), I swam at every swimming carnival. I tried to play hockey, soccer, tennis, basketball, softball. I turned up early to training, paid to go to extra training camps. I put up with comments about my weight, my glasses, my nerdiness, and still put in the effort day after day week after week. I would listen to my parents, and believe them when they said practice makes perfect. I TRIED, gave it 100% EVERY TIME WITHOUT FAIL WITHOUT QUESTION.

Now that might sound like a good attitude, like I did the right thing. But is setting myself up for failure after failure week after week and putting up with put down after put down really THE RIGHT THING. The amount of times I was pulled off the field and sat on the bench because I was not good enough and the other PARENTS on the sideline were booing me was ridiculous.

Is it really the RIGHT THING to allow yourself to feel this way? I know we grow up and then its all good and you dont feel so bad and you can laugh at yourself and no one judges you for being crap and bullshit bullshit bullshit, you are good at other things, you can write really good stories well WHO CARES if you can write good stories, WHO CARES if you are grammatically correct and can spell words that other people have never heard of, WHO CARES if you are booksmart, I can tell you who, not many people. What am I going to do, compete in a word Olympics? Go and play theatre sports? PLEASE!

Actually, the theatre sports is actually a pretty good idea........

But anyway. My other half pointed out that I am better at reading and writing than him..... woo-hoo. Thats not actually a supported fact, as he is getting hundreds of hits on his blog every week and I dont think that even my friends read this anymore.

And its not as if people who write well get invited to "drinks after the game". We get invited to edit peoples pamphlets and read over peoples assignments. Then we get asked what this word means and how to spell that. Wow impressive.

Ok, well this rant is pretty much over, I have stopped making sense, and I am no longer feeling like shit. Hell Ive even started to laugh while writing this which has got to be a good sign.

Its sad that Im crap at sports, I really love them and I would like to play. I even want to play scary touch Aussie Rules even though I quit last night and they probably have a new girl to fill my space.

What do you all think cyberspace peoples?

Being 24

Many apologies, dear readers, as this will be yet another meaningful and deep post contemplating the complexities of my life. But I promise, AND YOU CAN HOLD ME TO THIS, my next post will most definately be cynical and judgemental as usual. I PROMISE. Just bear with me.....

Its pretty tough in this day and age, to be a 24 year old woman in this day and age. We live in the age of choice and freedom. Im learning, however, that with choice and freedom comes expectation. Expectation from ourselves. From our families and our friends. Our partners our teachers our bosses and busdrivers. From those people in highschool we didnt even like, but had to be nice to because their parents were friends with our parents.

My parents expect me to be brilliant. They expect me to go back to uni. They think that I should get a degree and do a doctorate and be accademic and be successful. They want a daughter that they can boast about. My mother in particular wants me to have a GREAT CAREER, not just a job. She wants me to have this super duper job, not to worry about babies and to be one of those new age women who has kids at 42.

Mr friends expect me to be the one who succeeds. I, you see, was the one who always got the job she wanted, who always got the traineeship. I once (famously among my friends) walked into a service station barefoot to buy a coke, and came out with a job as an assistant manager. And Im the one who went from being drugged up party girl to practically married housewife with a mortgage in 3 years.

The world expects women today to be everything. We have to be able to hold down a great job, have babies, keep a household and stay thin. All at once. And if we dont, the world judges us. We have to be ambitious. Its no longer good enough to want to be married and have babies. Its no longer important to be good mothers and to teach and nurture the leaders of the future. People look down on women who want to do that.

In saying that, however, women are still expected to have babies. But not too young. Young mothers are not kosher, according to the world these days. But be careful. You dont want to be too old. Old mums are pathetic and sad, desperate maids who get knocked up because they realise that time is running out. Thats not good in the eyes of the world either.

We have to be independantly minded, because marriage is old fashioned and nothing is forever anymore. There is no room for women who believe in love. There is no room for women who are happy with part time jobs while their husbands work to support their family.

I am a young woman in my mid twenties and I am afraid that I am going to fail. So afraid that it affects my relationships. I am afriad that I will stuff it all up, take a wrong turn and end up lost. No because I feel that I have made the wrong choices. I know that I made the best choices I could with the oppurtunities I had. I am afraid because there is so many judges and so many standards, but no-one will tell you what you are supposed to be. Im doomed if I do and doomed if I dont.

You see, sometimes I think that I dont really want to be the new age woman with the new age beliefs. I dont think that men and women are equal. I have never known what I wanted to do as a career. I have never had a five year plan with choices for promotion.

The only things I have ever really wanted out of life were the things that my mother told me I didnt need. A stable home. A loving husband. Kids to teach and love that are a part of me. I might be an oddball and I might have been "the smart one" but all I have ever really know that I want is the suburban dream.Sure there are other things that I want to do. I want to write a book and I want to be on Oprah. But if I had to chose between these things and what I have always know I wanted, I would chose my traditional suburban dream.

Its tough being 24 in this day and age. With the pressure and the expectations, everything I want will always be wrong. There will always be someone who knows better who will judge.

Crikey.

So Not Good

I am so unhappy at the moment. I dont know why, all I know is that I am. Its my job its my life. How can I know so many people and still feel lonely? I live with one person and one cat and I spend so much time feeling like the only people on earth.

I dont think anyone actually wants to spend time with me. Well correction, the people who I wish wanted to spend time with me dont seem to want to. I feel avoided. I get the distinct impression that people will go out of their way and find other things to do.

I am so quietly miserable. I can fake it, and I do. I fake being happy I fake laugh, I pretend that I feel secure, happy and that my life is on track. I should have been an actor I fake it so good. But I cant remember the last time that I actually felt as happy as I pretend to feel.

Im sick of crying at night. Im sick of feeling like a failure. But I dont know how to make things right anymore. Dammit Im sick of the fact that I am crying right now. Maybe its PMS but who has THIS much PMS?

Im sorry to load this all on you, whoever you are if you even bother to read this. But I gotta tell someone and no-one else really seems to listen.

The end.