22 February 2006

No man needed

Time for my feminist-lesbian activist self to wake from its deep, deep slumber. This part of me rarely wakes up so forgive me if I am a little rusty.

Paris Hilton, famous for…well…erhm…I can not think of what she is famous for, erhm…a women’s rights activist? No, that’s not it. Is she perhaps an eminent scientist? Nope, that is not it either. Indeed, I can not for the life of me think of a reason for this person to be famous.

Actually, that is probably a very sad reflection of today’s idols: None of them have done anything to deserve their fame.

Anyway, drifting off topic here. Paris Hilton has made a sex video. She claimed it was a private video that leaked out onto the internet. Yeah right. Her 'career' has exploded since that video so I firmly believe she would of course rather have kept it private.

And now, paris Hilton has made a new one. With a woman this time. In some hotel (Hilton??) she did the dirty with some Playboy model and filmed it. Fine. Whatever floats her boat (read: whatever keeps her career afloat).

What bugs me is that some Dutch newspaper put this news on its front page. And it is so clearly aimed at horny men. How do I know? Well, because this model said:

Paris had brought loads of sex toys along. We needed them of course because there was not a man around.

Excuse me?

[Feminist Activist Lesbian Comment]

I can get so enraged by this kind of thing. This just perpetuates the male myth that all a lesbian needs is a nice bit of cock. That real women really want a man and all they do is play a little bit. For the real thing, a man is needed.

There are plenty of stories of lesbians being raped or sexually abused by men who believe that all these women need is a dick and that they can be cured. Braindead women like Paris Hilton & Co encourage this kind of thinking.

Hilton is a porn actress but she can not be seen as such as she would perhaps lose the family fortune? If she was really a lesbian and her escapades with her girlfriend were filmed, you really think a man would be interested? I doubt it because the only thing that men are interested in is the thought that he can, in the end, come in and ‘finish the job’. They need the feeling that they are needed, that a real woman can not do without a man.

I was once asked by a wanker in the pub if he could watch me and my girlfriend having sex. I said no as we did not need him for our enjoyment. Instantly he changed his attitude and called us stupid dykes.

But perhaps I can not blame blokes for this kind of thinking when women like Paris Hilton etc. keep telling them that they would really prefer a man to be there when they do it with a woman.

[/Feminist Activist Lesbian Comment]

So, what do I think of Paris Hilton etc?

Well, to be honest, it is just not worth the energy so I won’t say anything about it.

I'm in

I am now officially in a band. They (or should I now say we?) play English folk music. I am still not sure about it as the material they want to play is a little…how can I put it, repetitive.

Many old English folk tunes have an abundance of verses and no chorus so the songs can go on and on and on. For example, Tam Lin, has 17 verses, each only 2 lines. For me as a singer, that is just not very interesting as there is only so much variation I can put in to a song that repeats itself so many times.

I guess I need to be patient and see if I can slip in a few songs that I like myself. Next week, everyone gets to bring a few songs and then we pick the ones we can all agree on.

What shall I bring? I know very little folk songs. I mean REAL folk. I know plenty of Indigo Girls, Mary Black etc. But that is not really folk enough…..

20 February 2006

Is this all there is?

You get up, go to work, wish the day away in a boring awful job, come home, kiss your wife, have dinner, chat, have TV, go to sleep and do the same thing all over again the next day?

I have too much time at work to think. I have bored myself into a depression. I am THIS close to walking out of the office and never return. What is stopping me? Money. Always the same fucking thing stopping it: money. Can not live without at least £15,500 per year. Can not afford to just walk away. Can not afford to take a holiday to clear my head.

Can only afford to work. The same fucking boring job day in day out. Relentless boredom. Every day. In a company that is not going anywhere, has no competent management and no vision for the future.

And nobody to give me a chance in a better job.

is this all there is? Because if it is, then I want my money back.

13 February 2006

Who can say??

Last week I went for a job interview. I thought the interview went really well, even though I realised I did not know an awful lot of agriculture and policies (I was applying for an agricultural organisation). They had told me there would be a test at the end of the interview and I was really nervous about that. I hate it when I do not know what to expect. Makes it hard to prepare.

So the interview went well, I explained why I wanted the job and I explained that I had an interest in agriculture but that I did indeed not have detailed experience within that industry. Fair enough, since my CV made that fact blatantly obvious, so why lie about it?

Then came the test. I had to write a mock press release. About the government’s target to reduce the amount of peat consumed by 90% by 2010 (Hello, are you still with me??). They gave me some basic facts about peat and how the organisation values it etc. etc.

I had 45 minutes to write the press release. Trouble was: I did not know what Peat was. My English is very good but there simply are words I have never come across. Not a problem, I thought. I will just Google and check. No internet. I will just use the Word Thesaurus to see if my guess is right. Darn, no thesaurus. Well, I will just use Word’s translation in to French or German to see if the translations ring a bell. Bugger: No translation found.

How do you write a press release about peat when you don’t know for sure what peat is???? So I kept it as vague as possible, certain that I had lost the job. I stressed, rushed it, started sweating and getting depressed. A chance of a good job ruined because I could not look up the single most important word of it all. I had an idea of what it was alright but if there is something important on the line, I can hardly guess and take the risk I look like an idiot for making a wrong assumption.

So I left feeling very down, sure I had blown it.

And then this morning I got a call. I did not get the job as they had picked someone with more experience in the agricultural sector. Fair enough. I expected that. But the lady said that she called me to say that my press release exercise had blown her away. It was perfect. It had everything in it and the writing style was perfect, hit the right notes and so on and so on so could they please keep my details on file in case a similar job came along in the future. (I assume something a little less senior as this was going to pay 25 grand a year).

So I was left wondering if we can ever really tell what they are after when they interview you. I really thought I had blown it. And yet they thought it was fabulous. I don’t think I ever felt happy after just having been told I did NOT get a job. But it made my day.

10 February 2006


Well, after 3 weeks of pain and fiddling, I have now realised (or is it decided??) that my toe is indeed broken. Now that the swelling has more or less gone down, I can bend the toe again and whenever I bend it, there is a definate click of bones grinding against each other. Great.

I get a proper sports injury. Good. Makes me look interesting. Yes, I am sad like that. When I get an injury, I want one people can see so I get sympathy. But I don't want it to be a really bad injury. You know, a black eye or something, that kind of stuff: loads of sympathy but nothing that stops me playing for more than a week.

But breaking your little toe is a futile injury: they do not treat it, you can walk more or les normally and nobody can see it. And yet, you don't fit into your shoes for ages so I am wearing sandals. I have to explain to people why I am wearing sandals (sorry, but I refuse to have people think I am the kind of woman who normally wears warm wooley socks and open sandals!! )and yet I am not limping.

So I have an injury nobody can see, that nobody will treat and yet it stops me from playing rugby for weeks. Well, it SHOULD stop me from playing. But in reality, I only missed 1 training. This may well be the reason why it just does not seem to become any less painful. I should have rested it. But if I am not getting any sympathy, what is the point in resting??

So I am playing on Sunday. And yet, I am scared as hell someone will step on my toe and break it again. So yesterday I drove all the way to Rugby (oh, irony) as it is the only town around here that sells rugby boots with hard toes. Now my toes are snugly hidden underneath a reenforced nose. Hopefully it will prevent my little toe from breaking off altogether. But more than that, I hope it will help me focus on the game, instead of spending my time being afraid that I will get stamped on again.

Because yes, I may have a case of Man Flu with this toe, but it really does fucking hurt when they stamp on it!!

02 February 2006

Folk, socks & sandals

I went to audition for a band the other day. A folk (rock) band. You know, Fairport Convention, that kind of stuff. None of the men already in the band wore sandals and socks so clearly folk music has moved on a bit.

I was quite looking forward to it as I miss singing in a band. But for some reason, I was actually bored. They were not as good as I thought they would be. I went to audition as a singer. I play a little bit of guitar but nothing to write home about.

Maybe it was the choice of the songs they gave me to practice with for the audition. But it was clear that they were not really focussed on having a (female) singer in the band. The songs were either too low or too high and when I asked them if they could perhaps change the key, it seemed a bit difficult. There was very little variation in the music and the way they played.

Maybe I had too high expectations. I don’t know. Basically I don’t think I would be too offended if they did not pick me to be their singer. But it has made me more eager to go out and try to get some more auditions.