For the best girly houseshare in town. We are sadly losing a flatmate, which means we're on the hunt. It shouldn't be a problem - we're advertising on kinky sites and have already had lots of interest. Thing is we have a fairly clear idea of what we want - a girl, similar age to us, kinky with a love of ice cream, dressing up and debauchery. We have 2 months to find someone because getting the perfect fit is important - we all get along and want to keep it that way.
What I'm finding very funny is the amount of outraged memos I'm getting in result of our advert. From men telling me we're being sexist and they'd fit right in (and move out after 2 weeks if they didn't?! Because that wouldn't screw up the contract at all...), from TVs insisting that we're discriminating against non-natal females and all sorts of people.
I hate to say it but it's our flat and it's our choice who we want to live with. After all we couldn't loll around in our knickers if we lived with a boy...and they might object to some of our girlier past times. I am just finding it very odd that people think they have the right to comment on the type of flatmate we want...it's a funny old world!
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 November 2009
Monday, 17 August 2009
Yes I am a girl - get over it
Aka 'Girls Run Too' or
'Breaking the Gender Rules'
Soooo I am in a rather scary conservative Muslim country peeps. So much that I have purchased long skirts and baggy tops to wear (anyone who knows me will confirm that this is very out of character!) and am wandering around with a headscarf on. Despite this I still look very British but at least not as bizarre as I would in a burkha!
I decided that I needed to do some running training as I have my half marathon coming up. The promised 'fitness centre' at my slightly dodgy hotel was apparently 'broken' so they gave me a card to go for free to a hotel down the road to use the gym, which was apparently five minutes but took more like fifteen. An interesting exchange took place when I explained why I was there and got the reaction "You want to exercise? But you are a woman!" which I would hope was fairly obvious. Much conferring followed and in the end they agreed to let me. Then I asked about changing rooms (which had been promised by my hotel when they sent me there) and got the response of 'No not for fatimas' which also wasn't terribly helpful. In the end they let me change in the room a lady used to give massages, making me feel pretty seedy and a bit concerned about possible concealed cameras!
Heading into the gym which was a couple of treadmills and a broken exercise bike with pool and football tables and lots of lechy men behind me I almost turned back but felt it would be wrong to do so and rather like letting myself down. Plus in letting myself down I'd be letting down all the women who couldn't run because of their repressive culture. So I got on the treadmill and started running, feeling horribly aware of all the eyes boring into my back, bottom and the rest of me. Then I got angry - after all who are these guys to impose their values on me and restrict their women from doing so many things and got into a mode where I wasn't just running to clock up miles for my half marathon, I was running to make a point. Then it got a lot easier and I found myself in a mindset I've missed since giving up my beloved rowing due to injuries that I was running not against myself but against the World, and got high on the feeling of pushing my body harder than is probably wise and transcended the stuffy, hot and downright dodgy room.
I finished and stretched off and could have cheered when two little girls whose father was working on the door got on the treadmills in their traditional clothing and started running and giggling. Then their father made them stop. But if I've shown two little girls that girls can run too I feel like I've achieved far more than just clocking yet another session. So that's one positive thing this week!
'Breaking the Gender Rules'
Soooo I am in a rather scary conservative Muslim country peeps. So much that I have purchased long skirts and baggy tops to wear (anyone who knows me will confirm that this is very out of character!) and am wandering around with a headscarf on. Despite this I still look very British but at least not as bizarre as I would in a burkha!
I decided that I needed to do some running training as I have my half marathon coming up. The promised 'fitness centre' at my slightly dodgy hotel was apparently 'broken' so they gave me a card to go for free to a hotel down the road to use the gym, which was apparently five minutes but took more like fifteen. An interesting exchange took place when I explained why I was there and got the reaction "You want to exercise? But you are a woman!" which I would hope was fairly obvious. Much conferring followed and in the end they agreed to let me. Then I asked about changing rooms (which had been promised by my hotel when they sent me there) and got the response of 'No not for fatimas' which also wasn't terribly helpful. In the end they let me change in the room a lady used to give massages, making me feel pretty seedy and a bit concerned about possible concealed cameras!
Heading into the gym which was a couple of treadmills and a broken exercise bike with pool and football tables and lots of lechy men behind me I almost turned back but felt it would be wrong to do so and rather like letting myself down. Plus in letting myself down I'd be letting down all the women who couldn't run because of their repressive culture. So I got on the treadmill and started running, feeling horribly aware of all the eyes boring into my back, bottom and the rest of me. Then I got angry - after all who are these guys to impose their values on me and restrict their women from doing so many things and got into a mode where I wasn't just running to clock up miles for my half marathon, I was running to make a point. Then it got a lot easier and I found myself in a mindset I've missed since giving up my beloved rowing due to injuries that I was running not against myself but against the World, and got high on the feeling of pushing my body harder than is probably wise and transcended the stuffy, hot and downright dodgy room.
I finished and stretched off and could have cheered when two little girls whose father was working on the door got on the treadmills in their traditional clothing and started running and giggling. Then their father made them stop. But if I've shown two little girls that girls can run too I feel like I've achieved far more than just clocking yet another session. So that's one positive thing this week!
Friday, 24 July 2009
F*ck you very much...
Someone is cruising for a bruising and for once it's not me. Having survived a rather interesting week I decided to go for a swim before dinner and trundled merrily up to the pool. I spent sixty lengths (it's a very small pool) dodging four extremely irritating teenage boys who appeared to be permeanently stationary except when deliberately getting in my way - they would sit there and then suddenly launch themselves in front of me mid-length. This was very annoying but I did manage to 'accidentally' kick two of them which went some way towards compensating for the annoyance.
Still, having bashed up and down for about forty minutes I was feeling refreshed, until I got into my bathroom to discover that the hotel staff (who had thus far been impeccable) had for some reason neglected to leave any towels - which is bizarre as I've had about lots until today. I phoned the reception and politely asked for one. Thirty minutes later no towel. I phoned housekeeping directly and asked for one quite nicely. Fifteen minutes later no towel and a very grumpy Rebecca. I phoned reception again and asked for one somewhat less politely - two minutes later apologetic man arrives with four, and becomes even more apologetic when I answer the door in my bikini and goosebumps.
In my mind it was all a grand plot - the boys at the pool had bribed a maid to remove my towels (probably because I kept giving them evils when they jumped on me). I can only hope that the hotel manager discovered this plot and gave her a good hiding, and that the pool staff reported to the boys' fathers that they had been behaving so badly and they got thrashed too...no in case you are wondering I'm not in the best of moods today!
To be honest the pool boys and the towels aren't that big a deal. Even that I barely got a thank you for running around after thirty people all week whilst suffering from the flu isn't that big a deal - I'm getting paid and have a beautiful room with a bed big enough for at least four Rebeccas and lots of yummy meals. Being fairly recently of university this is a bit of a treat. I have some cool pressies for my friends and flatmates too, which is nice. No spankings (which may have contributed towards my grumpiness) but you can't have everything...Actually in Bangkok you probably can but am not sure it would be wise to go looking!
What has really f*cked me off today is that two people who I thought were really good friends have badly let me down. Friends for whom I've dropped everything to pick up the pieces when things go wrong, listened to their problems, tried to find nice ways to cheer them up and organised things around what suits them. So I'm feeling pretty upset. It's not that I expect anything in return but it would be nice if they could at least not screw me over because something else has come along.
That's the thing - I try so hard to be nice to people and to be there for them when they need me - I'm a girl's girl who will drop dates to be there with chocolate, wine and a sympathetic ear; or for a drunken night out when friends need me. No questions asked - that's what friends do. So it hurts a lot when people who I think are good friends treat me like that. I have a lot of friends and love meeting new people but only have few that I feel really close to. Probably because at the end of the day those are the ones who can hurt you - and who wants to get hurt?
So for today no more nice girl - may they be visited with thrashings of the not nice variety. Or at least may I not be stupid enough to blow other people out or in fact just lose sleep to look after them next they have a crisis.
Still, having bashed up and down for about forty minutes I was feeling refreshed, until I got into my bathroom to discover that the hotel staff (who had thus far been impeccable) had for some reason neglected to leave any towels - which is bizarre as I've had about lots until today. I phoned the reception and politely asked for one. Thirty minutes later no towel. I phoned housekeeping directly and asked for one quite nicely. Fifteen minutes later no towel and a very grumpy Rebecca. I phoned reception again and asked for one somewhat less politely - two minutes later apologetic man arrives with four, and becomes even more apologetic when I answer the door in my bikini and goosebumps.
In my mind it was all a grand plot - the boys at the pool had bribed a maid to remove my towels (probably because I kept giving them evils when they jumped on me). I can only hope that the hotel manager discovered this plot and gave her a good hiding, and that the pool staff reported to the boys' fathers that they had been behaving so badly and they got thrashed too...no in case you are wondering I'm not in the best of moods today!
To be honest the pool boys and the towels aren't that big a deal. Even that I barely got a thank you for running around after thirty people all week whilst suffering from the flu isn't that big a deal - I'm getting paid and have a beautiful room with a bed big enough for at least four Rebeccas and lots of yummy meals. Being fairly recently of university this is a bit of a treat. I have some cool pressies for my friends and flatmates too, which is nice. No spankings (which may have contributed towards my grumpiness) but you can't have everything...Actually in Bangkok you probably can but am not sure it would be wise to go looking!
What has really f*cked me off today is that two people who I thought were really good friends have badly let me down. Friends for whom I've dropped everything to pick up the pieces when things go wrong, listened to their problems, tried to find nice ways to cheer them up and organised things around what suits them. So I'm feeling pretty upset. It's not that I expect anything in return but it would be nice if they could at least not screw me over because something else has come along.
That's the thing - I try so hard to be nice to people and to be there for them when they need me - I'm a girl's girl who will drop dates to be there with chocolate, wine and a sympathetic ear; or for a drunken night out when friends need me. No questions asked - that's what friends do. So it hurts a lot when people who I think are good friends treat me like that. I have a lot of friends and love meeting new people but only have few that I feel really close to. Probably because at the end of the day those are the ones who can hurt you - and who wants to get hurt?
So for today no more nice girl - may they be visited with thrashings of the not nice variety. Or at least may I not be stupid enough to blow other people out or in fact just lose sleep to look after them next they have a crisis.
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Not stupid just fluffy...
Or a bit of a rant. I'm mostly very much a girls' girl - friends come first, I hug people far too much and hold a secret belief that a girly night in with wine and chocolate can cure most of the world's ills. I don't really intellecutalise too much, and can be a bit what you see is what you get. I wear lots of pink, lots of glitter and tend to get over-excited.
However, I am not stupid and it drives me mad when people act as if I am just because I'm giggling over a Cosmopolitan cocktail and don't have a deeply thought out argument for everything that I come across in life. If I want to have deep conversation about something I can (and do) but I don't want to do that all the time. In reality I have an excellent degree and other qualifications - I just don't always feel like adopting university supervisions as my conversational style. Equally just because I'm fluffy most of the time doesn't mean I'm a pushover or can't fight my own corner when I want to (as anyone unfortunate to come up against me in my full contact kickboxing days would testify). I just choose to be nice most of the time, life's more fun that way. Doesn't mean I'm a bimbo...
However, I am not stupid and it drives me mad when people act as if I am just because I'm giggling over a Cosmopolitan cocktail and don't have a deeply thought out argument for everything that I come across in life. If I want to have deep conversation about something I can (and do) but I don't want to do that all the time. In reality I have an excellent degree and other qualifications - I just don't always feel like adopting university supervisions as my conversational style. Equally just because I'm fluffy most of the time doesn't mean I'm a pushover or can't fight my own corner when I want to (as anyone unfortunate to come up against me in my full contact kickboxing days would testify). I just choose to be nice most of the time, life's more fun that way. Doesn't mean I'm a bimbo...
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