Disjointed

What I Like:

- riding in my car listening to Triple J's Hottest 100 album of 2000. Why? I feel like a dirty teenager with unwashed jeans and greasy hair and I don't give a shit. I'm endeavouring to be as happy as I can be, to live my life the way I want, to not let the complexities of emotions and surrounding circumstance to get me down. I like feeling like a kid. Especially when I sing along to Sinead O'Conner's "Daddy I'm Fine" - the first song I ever heard the word fuck used properly in a pop song. I love it. That song is still empowering. Much like the half-joke I made on Sunday at my family's Mother's Day Brunch. Back in the days of my grandmother's youth, sluts were called 'mattresses' because all a boy had to do was lie down to sleep with the woman in question. My uncle then volunteered that in the 70s he used to call these women 'bicycles' - because everyone got a ride.
And what are they called nowadays?
Strong independent women doing what they want. They don't have to answer to anybody. If they're enjoying doing what they want, with whom they want, when they want - well, quite frankly, that's up to them. Don't you love the valourisation of choice in the twenty-first century? Feminism not only granted some haphazzered equality-like status to women in the workplace and within civil liberties, but it also brought on the high idea of women's right to choose. And I think that's the most important. Judgement calls are only valid if we let them be. Us girls have the right to choose, as well as the right not to be judged for that (perhaps unconventional) decision. This sounds a lot like my essay about Bizet's Carmen. Perhaps that will be exhibited next time.

- my editing class. For the obvious reasons. Each week I feel like I'm studying the English through the angle of a different profession. One moment we are detectives, as I've wrote about earlier. The next moment we are scientists, classifying parts of speech and labelling the parts within that. We put everything in their correct drawer, label every jar that is language. Another moment we are mathematicians, deconstructing complex mathematical structures. Getting the basics grounded first, then we start asking a series of questions - WHat is the verb? What is the object/subject? And if this is so, then how do we find the (insert term here)?
I feel empowered by this knowledge, decisions are made easier. I swear.

What I find amusing:

- the concept of rent-a-crowd for barmitzvahs and weddings. These special occasions should NEVER be subject to the pressure of 'rent-a-crowd'. What makes a simcha so special is the people - not the food, not the band, not the location. I believe that occasions/events such as these should comprise of those who you love and who will love sharing in your happiness. The acknowledgement of this 'rent-a-crowd' pressure by a certain Friday Lunch with the Ladies socialite was deemed hysterically ironic (i'm not sure if that's the right term used there) over the past weekend. Haha.

- the fact that I managed to hurt myself again. It's becoming a pattern - and I'm not sure if I like it. I try to look after myself, but it's not working out for me right now. I sprained my ribs/ irritated my rib joints when moving in (perhaps) a strange way on saturday night. Now the whole upper left section of my torso is in agony, a very strange sensation. With the aid of drugs and physio, I shall overcome. But until that moment - this new awareness of my body is quite unreal. Mmmm.

This has turned into an unintended rant. I like my lists - but I don't think I like this one. Let's see.