| Indian_Babe16 |
|---|
|
read my profile sign my guestbook  Name: M.E. Birthday: 4/6/1990 Gender: Female Interests: Lust, Love & Life Expertise: Everything, of course. Occupation: Artist Message: message me AIM:  dagger1660
Member Since: 7/30/2004 |
Saturday, November 14, 2009
| HPV? I read this great article about this great little known fact: the HPV vaccination works on boys too. What? Really? I had no idea they needed to protect their cervices. Actually, it DOES offer them protection against oral and anal cancer, to name a few. So why aren't men getting the vaccination? Why is it that only girls even know about it, and that in countries with national healthcare, only girls are required to get it? (And, more worryingly, only girls under the age of 18 are even covered to get it. Because it's less effective if you've had sex, and since we're all having sex at 18, that's the cut off age. There are lots of obvious problems with this, but whatever.) Oh, because it's more effective on girls. That... makes sense, really. Complete sense. Except that it was created specifically for girls: of COURSE it works better. The real question is: why didn't they make it for guys-- because at that point it would be more effective for guys. And the truth is the age-old belief that everything is a woman's responsibility. It's a woman's fault if a guy gets HPV, and she has to deal with it. Same with pregnancy, same with everything. Put the girls at risk-- yet again. This happens to piss me off more than I care to admit. This really bothers me. I want to get my Gardasil shot reversed and have it stuck in my brother. Why on earth should it be only my responsibility? The women will provide the immunity FOR the men, and they won't have to do anything for it. This is making me so rationally angry that I can't even see straight right now. The Pill, when introduced, was a huge liberator for women sexually. I understand that. Still, this is fifty years down the line. And birth control is NOT just a woman's responsibility. The pill is dangerous, including things like heart attack, stroke and, oh yeah, DEATH. Why should women have to risk themselves and their health for a benefit for both sexes??? This is exactly why research into a "male pill" isn't well funded. Because, naturally, pregnancy occurs within the woman's body-- it's more her responsibility somehow. It's bullshit and I'm completely fed up with it. I have morphed into such a ridiculous feminist that I don't know how to stand it anymore, every little things makes me flare up, but at the end of the day, I am. I've stopped calling other girls "sluts" or "whores" because it IS a sexist remark. We don't need to punish people for choosing to sleep around. I've stopped saying things "suck" because it lends credence to the idea that it's a demoralizing act for a woman to do-- beCAUSE of the fact that it is something a woman does. I know, that there is a biological basis to this. Women are typically choosier than men because, ultimately, they are receiving the sperm-- they have to be careful in their selection of mate because they are the ones who carry the child. Not being careful suggests wantonness and competition. And men, of course, want to procreate as much as possible with as many people as possible, because if they do, there's a higher chance the species will survive. It's evolution. That doesn't make it right. Sexism is alive and well and flourishing thoroughly. My only caveat is this: I DON"T like to pay for dinner, I DON"T like to hold the door, and I DO want sparkly jewelery and half of your cash. Is this sexist? I honestly don't believe so. The truth of the matter is simply that I like money, and I would happily receive it from a friend of mine who was a girl as well. I expect everyone to hold the door for me because it's polite, the way I stand up on the bus for an elderly patron before most other people do. I expect other women to hold the door for me as well. And yes, I like material things. Oh well. Look, I wouldn't refuse getting the HPV vaccination. It's probably better if you do (although long term studies have proved bupkis) (a word I recently learned is Yiddish.. cool), because we should keep these things in mind. And hold men responsible. YOU can keep the kid and I'll pay you child support, k? | |
Monday, November 09, 2009
| This is What I Learned.... I'm emetophobic which, in case you can't be bothered to google it, means that I have an intense, irrational fear of vomit. Wikipedia tells me that it's one of the most common phobias, but I have never met another person with it. So there you go. For me, it's an all encompassing fear. I hate hearing it, seeing it, thinking about it, feeling sick, the possibility of being sick, the idea that people around me feel sick, or any of the above. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate it and I KNOW it's irrational, but I never want to be pregnant because of morning sickness. I've not taken antibiotics before because one of the side effects included nausea. Once my friends threw up in school and I didn't talk to her for a year. Once a guy I was with told me he had been sick before (not that day, a few weeks ago) and I had to end it because I couldn't kiss him anymore. I would rather refuse chemotherapy and die than be faced with constant vomiting. It's a big fear for me. I refuse to get drunk, even take one shot, because I'm terrified of being a lightweight. It does, to a certain extent, run my life, but it has its bizarre exceptions. I eat sushi a lot, and it is raw fish. Medicine fascinates me, (minus the obvious symptoms that accompany diseases) and I can read Marquis de Sade without cringing (Must We Burn Sade?) (look, once you get past the shock factor, what's really there? Political philosophie, sadly.) Anyhow, again according to Wiki, this means I suffer from an internal locus of control, which I've always found better than an external locus of control. It means, put simply, that I think I'm in control of my life. I don't believe in God, fate, or the effects of other people. This last thing I don't think is true, but I do believe in things like hard work and personal success, essentially. Even though I know it's not as clean cut, to an extent, this is quite true. But I guess this also means I like to be in control of my bodily functions, which is scarily true. TMI warning: I track my menstrual period to the day, which I think a lot of women do, and I time my bowel movements to be at the same time each day, for regularity. I never thought this was controlling behavior, honestly. Is it? I don't know. Anyhow, I DO believe in the power of other people. I strictly adhere to the belief that we're BARELY in control of how things turn out (not of what we do) because there are so many factors, known and unknown, that are constantly pressing themselves upon us. Oh well. Maybe I know this and I don't like it? And I compensate by ... trying to control things? I don't know, it's SUCH a bother to psychoanalyze yourself. I actually thought it was more connected to my pack-rat magpie like behavior. See, I have problems giving things away. I have receipts and fragments of scraps from when I was 5, because I can't bear to toss them. I'm nearly 20 and I get terrified at the thought of not being able to return to the house I grew up in. I don't like growing old or leaving schools. I don't like giving up things, leaving things, changing things, to a certain extent. I thought my emetophobia was an extension of this to a strange extreme: excuse me, but I don't like to give up my lunch. I know this isn't normal. And I know it hinders my life. I shouldn't be afraid of medicine. My whole body shouldn't tense because someone around me is coughing... and that could lead to any other barrage of ill symptoms. My criterion for a night out shouldn't be whether I think other people will be drunk. But it IS. And apparently some therapy can help cure it. Like, multiple, strenuous exposure to the phobia to deaden its effect. Um. No. That is not happening. It's not necessarily that I will flip out visibly, but my heart will race, my chest will tighten, my teeth will clench, and then I won't be able to think about anything else for days, weeks even. It's mostly psychologically that it bothers me. It infects my mind and sits there until time can rub it smooth. And it's not worth it. Don't we all have phobias? Shouldn't it be ok not to cure them all? I mean honestly, I'm not afraid of death, spiders, sharks, needles, bugs, dentists, clowns, ghosts, blood, any of the normal, if not irrational, fears. Can't I have this one? | |
Friday, September 11, 2009
| Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon So I've been hearing about this book for ages. It was tossed around for our book club in high school, even though it lost out to Heart of Darkness (THAT was a mistake), and it gets passing reference in lecture and even daily conversation. So when I was at Borders passing the time I noticed a whole stand full of it. And, like every third book of mine, it was an impulse purchase. And I was impressed. In Bollywood, there's a name for movies that combine a little romance, action, mystery, -- it's called a masala movie. And, just like this book, it's way of defying the genres and instead mixing them all into one delectable treat. To me, it's mostly an imaginative almost-fantasy, partly-gothic world. It reads like a grotesque fairy tale or a dark semi-reality. But whatever it is, it's excellent. The plot is so strange and drawn-out and convoluted. And it is a detective book in the sense that the main character, Daniel, is trying to figure out why someone is burning all the books of this one author. And it unravels in a lengthy, creepy fashion. It's wonderful, though. There are episodes that gave me chills. The imagery is beautiful and perfectly written. The back-stories are immense. The characters aren't wildly likeable or heartily three-dimensional, but it's barely noticeable. And they are, it's just not to an extreme extent. Instead, the mini-dramas are fleshed out, the city is full of life, the mystery itself is a breathing, pulsing object. Trust me, and read it. It is creepy, though. Zafon's language is stellar, too. I know it's translated, and that could be a huge influence, but the scenes are painted with a dripping, shimmery, liquid-like imagination. It's hard to understand until you read it. Everything isn't just tactile, it's glossy and dewy. You know how they can smear vaseline on a lens and suddenly the shot is a bit surreal, a bit blurry, but more romantic? That's how he writes. With vaseline on the lens. There are parts that drag, that aren't as compelling, and that's his own fault, because the parts of the book that are compelling are absolutely astounding, and it makes the other portions dull in comparison. It also gets a bit hard to keep track of information and people, but you can muddle through and just enjoy it. SPOILER WARNING: The solution, sadly, isn't nearly as good as it could have been. There are huge parallels between Julian and Daniel's life, and they are beyond blatant, and I kept believing that Julian would end up being Daniel, but that never happens. Instead the solution blooms so that, by the time for the reveal, you know the truth too-- and it's not an exciting "aha!" moment as much as a sad, sighing feeling of finite. END OF SPOILERS It is a slightly big book, but I loved it. I also have a mild fetish for gothic books, though, so there you go. I loved that about it, very much, it's just tainted with it ever so slightly. It's creative and breath-taking and a fantastic read. I'm waiting for the prequel to come out in paperback before I read it, because I saw it at the bookstore (called The Angel's Game) for about 36 dollars, and I don't need it that badly. Definitely one of the better contemporary books I've read. I also love how Zafon is the most unassuming man ever. Highly recommended for the types who want a bit of fantasy in their lives (more pragmatic types would probably dislike it). | |
Friday, August 14, 2009
| !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My eyes just fell out. Seriously, if you hear about a murder in the news soon, it might be me. I JUST learned that they're making a movie adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray-- which happens to be my favorite book of all time. I am horrified. And angry. I am so angry and disappointed and mostly angry. I was ok with them ruining other books, but this????????????/ BOO I HATE HOLLYWOOD I mean, I've ALWAYS hated Hollywood (sure, the Sherlock Holmes movie looks terrible, but it was expected at least....) but I am so unbelievably pissed I am going to kill someone. (ok so I won't. But I'm very pissed.) I can't even look at the poster anymore. I heard there's a trailer hanging around on youtube, and I can't even go look for it because I don't want to pull my hair out. And I know I will. The guy is 1.) not handsome 2.) not blonde and 3.) he's crumbling. what? God I am so unbelievably angry. Don't do this. Please? I would totally beg for this movie not to be in theatres. This is killing me. I hate you, Hollywood. I hate everyone going to see the movie and I hate everyone ruining this amazing novel. I'm not even overreacting. Seeing REGULAR books made into movies bother me. But this is personal on a whole new level. Go kill yourself. boo movies. | |
Monday, August 10, 2009
| Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon Super fast read. I bought it two days ago, read the whole thing today-- and today was a busy day for me, by the way, it's not like I woke up at 7 in the morning and read the whole time. And it's purposefully a fast read. The main character is autistic (so the reader assumes, it's never really stated: OH EXCEPT IN THE BLURB ON THE BACK I hate it when they do that), and 15 years old, so the sentences are short and concise and simplistic. True, he's sort of a savant and sometimes these short sentences are laden with mathematical proofs and wisdom-heavy aphorisms, but nevertheless, it's quick. The best comparison I come make here was "Flowers for Algernon" which if you haven't read it yet, do it immediately. It's a highly underrated book, and it's one of my favorite, I've read it about seventy times. It's about this guy who is mentally retarded (never specified, and probably politically incorrect and stereotypical) and he undergoes this experiment that makes his IQ jump exponentially... so that within a few weeks he's an absolute genius and a thousand times smarter than the men who came up with the experiment at all. But the best part isn't just the ethics that are behind it, it's that it is written in first person style-- it's lifted directly from Charlie (that's the main character)'s diary entries, where you can actually see his intelligence rise dramatically. It's a fantastic book. I could write pages on it, I love it so much. Anyways, they both tackle similar questions that come along with mental retardation-- how it can affect your life and everyone around you, the correlation between happiness and intelligence, difficulties of being different, and the like. Naturally, one of the best parts is because the book really attempts to get inside the mind of an autistic child, and we see it from a different point. He's not just the annoying person on the street who squats with their head between their hands, groaning and wetting themselves: the book glosses over that because that's not who Christopher is. He's a human being, the book protests, and when incidents like that happen, Christopher explains it so differently that you forget how it is for other people: the way we forget how it is for them (i.e., "I jammed my head into the corner of the door and groaned so that my head would clear and the hurt would go away. Soon I felt better"). I think the book deals a lot with the issues of secrets and lies, too. I don't know if it deals with them properly, but it certainly tries. It also throws in these deliciously hilarious jokes about atheism and logic, which I find to be absolutely perfect, that this guy who is at once dumber than everyone else and smarter than everyone else can see the lack of God so poignantly. And he doesn't even mean anything by it, either, since he's just making observations (the author, Haddon, naturally does-- but the reader tends to forget that). It also copes with the problems of parenting, and again, it's kind of sketchy. The father loves his son so much, and at some points you can see it so clearly, and it's sad when this all backfires. Then again, he has his questionable moments: coming home drunk, hitting his son, lying so extravagantly. But nevertheless, his good, unrecognized qualities shine through so much that it's remarkable (for me personally: I forget how much parents will do for their children). On the other hand, the mother is so selfish and dumb, but it's worrying to condemn her: it's not a sin for a mother to not want her child, especially if he's a difficult one. That's the problem. It is difficult and it's such a social stigma for a mother to up and leave (whereas for a father to leave is practically expected). Recommendation: Read it, so it's so fast. | |
| A Thousand Words are Worth A Thousand Thoughts |
|---|
|
