Moment to Moment

Done and dusted

I don't know what's got into typepad this fine Halloween, but I just wanted to let you all know I quit. Last shift on Friday. I made several people very cranky but I don't care.

I just wish, like everything in my life, there had been less angst about the whole thing. Waitresses come and go. No need for anyone to take it personally that I'm leaving. Just hire another 18 year old and be done with it.

This will either give me lots more time for blogging -- and by that I mean real posts and none of this whiny 'my life is rubbish' stuff I've been going on with lately. Or, I'll be so poor I'll have to stop paying for broadband.

Nailing my courage to the whatsit

I'm quitting at the cafe today. Last night I got home from doing some freelance work to discover a message on my answering machine changing my shifts around for this week, and seriously impacting the time I have left over for the three grand worth of freelancing I am supposed to be doing this week.

I was so angry I rang a friend, called my mum, yelled at the dog, stomped around the kitchen banging pots, and then I cried. And then I decided to quit the cafe. I don't really care that I'll have no money, because I have no money anyway, and at least now I'll have no money and nice pain-free feet.

I'll be broke (broker?), but maybe this will give me the incentive I need to actually make a decent shot of this freelancing thing.

There are a few possibilities in the works, and god I hope they come through, because otherwise I'll just have to fine yet another cruddy casual job. But that's it for the cafe and the rude customers and the stupid teenage girls and the endless stream of chai lattes.

Wish me luck.

Edit: hopefully now it will accept comments.

Most puzzling comment ever

From this old post:

"i only think of middle finger. its rally a finger and its middle of 2 . if human have 5." - Dudecool.

Yeah. You've sure set me right, Mr Dudecool.

IM 10 YRS BHND TEH O RLY

I cannot stop staring at this gif on Fluffy's blog.

Sheik Hilaly is a Misogynist Dickhead

I think that just about sums it up, doesn't it? (I posted part of this as a comment at LP too.)

And despite what Paul Sheehan seems to be suggesting, misogyny and rape aren't limited to Middle Easten cultures or Muslims.  What does a group of teenage boys urinating on and sexually molesting an innocent young girl, and then selling the DVD they'd filmed of the incident, say about certain elements of mainstream white culture? And do I have to mention Diane Brimble?

I'm not, for one second, claiming that many elements of Islamic culture and many Middle Eastern men (and women too) aren't severely  repressive and bakcward when it comes to women's rights -- and I do think many of us in the West have come a helluva way from the days when it was okay to beat your wife with a rod as long as it was no thicker than your thumb.

But, as Paul Sheehan says, the charade is over: rape, violence against women and misogyny aren't just problems of some dark-skinned other who practises a funny religion. They're the problems of humanity.

Nor is this story cheery reading for those of us with a vested interest in gender equality:

The survey, conducted for the Victorian Health Promotion Foundation, is part of a wider report, Two steps forward, one step backward. It found 40 per cent believed rape resulted from men's inability to control their need for sex, and half believed, despite the lack of evidence, that women falsified claims of domestic violence to gain a tactical advantage in custody battles.

Michael Flood, a researcher at La Trobe University and a contributor to the project, said: "Too many people believe men are uncontrollable sexual beasts and women are liars and temptresses." Men, especially from migrant communities and those with traditional views about gender roles, were more likely to have "violence-supportive" views.
...

The rise from 9 per cent to 20 per cent in the numbers believing women are as likely as men to be perpetrators of domestic violence was an area where views had hardened, despite contrary evidence.

Dr Flood attributed the change to campaigns by men's rights groups. "Men and women are supposed to be equal so it is comforting to some to assume they are equal in assaulting their partners," he said. "But it is a myth."

The survey also showed one in four believed domestic violence could be excused if the perpetrator was genuinely remorseful.

One one hand, we have the Sheik equating women to meat and saying that men are like cats who can't control themselves. On the other hand, we have a study claiming that a substantial minority of the general Australian population thinking that men just can't control their need for sex and that's why they rape women.

Gah damn typepad

I think something is a draft, it ends up being published. So I put it back in drafts again. Apologies to you all on bloglines et al. Still stewing.

Chaos Outside, Calm Inside

I've written something about Sheik Hilaly but I'm letting it cool for a few hours in the draft section. Might take it down, might publish it. Can't seem to stomach any of this at the moment, so am avoiding all that is unpleasant in the world by establishing strict order in the house: done my tax, cleaned out the fridge and the kitchen cupboards, tidied up my desk, organised the closet, sent out all my invoices, paid all my bills, etc. I hope I am not developing some latent form of OCD.

I have also started to care about the garden. This is a new thing for me, and we shall see where it leads. So far the gardening itch has only produced a few hardy daises in the once-bare garden bed by the front door and some lavender and mint around the place, and it's hard to care much about a rental garden, but I think I can finally see why otherwise sane people so much of their time mucking about in the yard with things that smell like poo.

In other news, the kind folks at Sarsaparilla have invited me into their ranks. I shall endeavour to do them justice, and be witty and learned and succint in my postings there. Or at least aim towards those things, though I'll likely end up somewhere in rambling over-thinky blah blah land, as is my wont.

Lessons learned from the service industry

Wait staff hate you. Yes, they do. Especially when you ask if the apricot and nougat cookies have dried apricot in them. Or if you ask for a knife and fork with which to eat your tea sandwiches. Or if you leave without paying and we have to chase you down the street. Or if you bring your three-year-old to the cafe and they mash their banana into the faux-suede banquette and we are forced to peel it off with our fingers after it has dried into something resembling faeces. Or if you see that we're closing and you continue to sit there chatting about your overseas holiday with your friend for over an hour while we sit and twiddle our thumbs waiting for you to leave so we can go home, goddammit.

I really need an office job.

All Weddinged Out

I think two weddings in a fortnight is more than sufficient, especially two best man's speeches. On this topic, why does the maid of honour never get to do a speech? And what about the mum of the bride and groom? And what about the actual, ya know, bride? Why doesn't she get to say anything? Stupid outmoded traditions all about women as property, grumble grumble. 

Personally I think the speechifying should be kept to an absolute minimum. We all know the real point of a wedding is to get pissed, and for mad Uncle Terry or nutty Aunt Rhonda to humiliate the happy couple by doing the chicken dance solo on the dance floor whilst chugging champers straight from the bottle. Said sad relative should also be found wandering the reception grounds at the wee hours of the morning in a state of undress and singing 'Khe Sahn' at the top of their lungs.

Sadly, neither wedding we attended featured such delightful shenanigans (though both had their moments), but in all other ways they were lovely.

Bound for Botany Bay Aiport

Two weeks. Two weddings. Eight towns. Not sure how many family members and friends to visit. Flight stops in Adelaide for some reason, but I have a couple of books and a chockablock-full iPod and a boyfriend to keep me company on the long flight East.

Meetup: Thursday, Warren View in Stanmore/Enmore-ish region (actually it's in Marrickville and it's on Stanmore Road), 6pm onwards. Lots of cool bloggers will be there. Possibly. It could just be me, however, and you don't want me sitting there all by myself snivelling into my beer do you?