29 June, 2009 | 5 Comments

It’s Wimbledon, which means that male players get attention for their skills and female players get attention for their looks.  Same old story.  According to this report in the Daily Mail, the most attractive female players are being scheduled to play on centre court, even if they are very low-ranked and virtually unheard of, whereas top players like Serena Williams, who are apparently considered unattractive, are playing in less high-profile spots.  The Daily Mail isn’t always a reliable source, but they’re backed up by the Guardian on this. Said Williams: “Well, I’m happy to have gotten my match over and to have won. I always play on Court No2 — it’s not a court for Roger [Federer], but it’s definitely a court for me.”  Not surprisingly, this court allocation by means of attractiveness is not applied to the male players.

In theory, professional sports should be great for women’s status and self-esteem, not just for the players but for the spectators.  Sports allow us to be respected for what our bodies can do, rather than what they look like – a rare situation for women.  Sports should be an area where lookism has no place, but again and again, from the Olympics to Wimbledon, we see that women can never be free from objectification and downright demeaning treatment.  When it comes to women at Wimbledon, skill and athleticism take a back seat to whether a woman is deemed f–kable or not.

29 June, 2009 | 2 Comments

The crazy regime in Iran may frown upon Western pop culture, but they must really love Michael Jackson right now.  Thanks to him, the coverage of the protests and rigged election has cooled considerably.  But hey, this is the Twitter generation – our attention spans are short.

I haven’t written anything about the situation in Iran because it’s far too complex for me and I think most Westerners to comprehend.  I think the protestors are incredibly brave and I hope they are successful, though Mousavi isn’t a nice guy and I really doubt he’s going to usher in a golden age of democracy in Iran. One thing I’m sick of hearing about is Twitter and the so-called “Twitter revolution.”  I’m not on Twitter, but I was reading some of the tweets on the Iran election.  I was pretty surprised at some of the misinformation I saw – for example, one person exclaimed that Steve Jobs was dead.  Not true, of course, and I’m not sure what this has to do with Iran anyway.

Double X has some interesting posts about Twitter, attempting to put it into context despite all the hype:  “According to the social media analytics company Sysomos, there were 19,235 Twitter users in Iran on Sunday; this in a country of 70 million. Some 93 percent of those accounts were in Tehran. Presumably those users are young, wealthy, and worldly.”  The author concludes that “reading the world off Twitter is like peeking into a Connecticut prep school and claiming to have seen America.”

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26 June, 2009 | 3 Comments

Last night upon hearing the news that Michael Jackson had been rushed to the hospital after a cardiac arrest, my first thought was, “If he dies, his children will be better off.”  I know that’s a terrible thing to think, but the thought just automatically popped into my head.  I’ve often thought of those children and what their lives are like.  I don’t think any child should have been allowed to live in the grotesque carnival that was Michael Jackson’s life.  I just hope somehow that his kids will have a more normal existence now, though given the options for custody I suppose the odds aren’t in their favor.  Who is there to choose from?  The Jackson family or the mother who sold them for cash.  Great options.

Michael Jackson seemed like a such a tortured, disturbed person to me that in some ways, it’s nice to think he is at peace now.  His life was really a tragic tale of the age of mass media.  A little boy from a dysfunctional, abusive family catapulted into international stardom to become one of the most famous people who ever lived.  All that fame and money and attention turned him, quite literally, into a monster.  How could it not?  He never really had a life outside of the cameras.  To me, that robbed him of his humanity, of his chance for a real, authentic life.  And so we saw a man who turned from black to white, from male into a sexless being, and from a normal, healthy young person into someone who did not even look human.  He was unable to embrace adulthood and lived a “Peter Pan” existence.  Even if he wasn’t a pedophile, he had an unhealthy attachment to young boys.  There is no way that Michael Jackson’s life was going to end well.  Perhaps he is lucky to have gone relatively quickly and peacefully.

It’s too early to know now what his legacy will ultimately be.  Already I see commentators and celebrities turning him into a saint, which is inevitable.  At the same time, it’s quite likely that many more details from his life (unpleasant ones) will now be published and circulated, thus tarnishing his legacy even more.  Who knows.  But nothing can take away the fact that Michael Jackson was incredibly talented.  I was a little girl during the Thriller era and I simply adored him then.  He brought a lot of joy to my life as a child and I enjoy listening to his songs now.  No matter what he became and what he did, he brought happiness to people’s lives with his music.

24 June, 2009 | 7 Comments

So it looks like I’ll be staying in Paris until August 30th!  I booked and paid for my accommodation for the whole month of August.  I won’t be in a flat in August, but that’s okay.  I need to save €€€€€.  Now I just have the last two weeks of July to figure out – I can stay in my present flat or do something else.  I think I might extend the flat by a week and then for the second week, travel somewhere.  Any recommendations on cool places that are within easy train distances of Paris?

My flat has its own washer (though no dryer).  Right now I have a load of wash in there that’s been going for over 2 hours!  I have no idea how to work the washer.  They rent these furnished apartments to anglophones, yet never include instructions on how to use things like this.  I have no idea what I’ve done wrong – there are three dials but I have no idea what they mean – there aren’t even any words, just mysterious symbols.  The washer has to stop running at some point, doesn’t it?  Today at Franprix it took me 20 minutes to find the right laundry soap – it’s difficult to tell the difference between detergent and fabric softener.  I mean, who on earth learns this kind of French vocabulary?

Today the light in the bathroom went out, so I went to the hardware store and had to buy a new bulb…for 9.50€.  Bloody flipping hell!  I swear, I am going to take that bulb with me when I leave – they aren’t getting a free 9.50€ bulb out of me!

We seem to have garbage collection every single day here.  Very strange.  I know this because the garbage truck stops right underneath my window.

So anyway, since I’ve been in Paris, I’ve become very boring.  I am in lovely Paris and here is what I do all day: WORK!  I mean, my whole purpose in coming here was to get away and write write write, but I guess I never figured I’d actually do it.  Ha!  I’m as shocked as anyone.  I get up in the morning (well, more like 11), I turn on the computer and I just write for hours.  I’m not sure what has happened to me.  I keep all the curtains drawn because I like it dark when I’m writing.  So I’m inside this flat writing all day in the dark.  It’s not really healthy, but I have to get this work done, so I’m pretty happy about it.  I just feel bad that Paris is out there and I’m in here.  I have been going out to run the occasional errand, such as to buy the aforementioned light bulb and also pizza from Pizza Hut.  Yes, Pizza Hut.  Be quiet.  I’ve also developed a horrible addiction to Orangina!  One of my goals this summer was to cut down on sugar.  Obviously, that’s not going well.

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22 June, 2009 | 14 Comments

Two images from France:

[1] This ad for Galeries Lafayette is plastered all over the Paris metro.  I find it a particularly repugnant example of the rape culture in which we live:

In billboard size in the metro, it’s even more shocking.  And it’s at virtually every station.  This woman, all greased up, is in a rather graphic sex pose and as we can see, she’s really just “asking for it.”  I really can’t imagine this being in the London Underground or NYC subway system – what do others think?  As a woman, I feel this ad contributes to an unsafe environment that encourages sexual objectification and rape and I think it should be taken down immediately.  And as for children and teens seeing this everyday, I just feel sick about it. I wish my French were good enough to write a scathing letter to both the metro bosses and Galeries Lafayette.

[2] President Sarkozy has launched a campaign against women wearing the burka in France.  “In the first presidential address to parliament in 136 years” Sarkozy said “The burqa is not a religious sign, it’s a sign of subservience, a sign of debasement — I want to say it solemnly.  It will not be welcome on the territory of the French Republic.”  [Quotes and photo from the AP.]  For other signs of subservience and debasement, see the Galeries Lafayette ad above.

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21 June, 2009 | 2 Comments

Today is the Fete de la Musique.  There’ve been bands playing outside all over Paris today and they’re still going strong even at this late hour – I can hear music in my apartment coming from several directions.  I can only imagine that people trying to sleep aren’t too happy right now!  But it’s been lovely having live music all day.

I hope everyone has enjoyed the Summer Solstice.  I should have taken some photos of the sunset tonight, but was too lazy.  I just talked to my dad for Father’s Day – Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!

Since it’s the Summer Solstice, you know what that means…it’s my half-birthday.  Only six more months till my next birthday.  Eek!

19 June, 2009 | 4 Comments

-They like pink toilet paper here for some reason.  I always buy white – dye is bad for your butt.

-People here are very polite.

-People here stop me for directions all the time, but they are always embarassed when they discover I’m not French.

-The apartment doors don’t have numbers on them.  When I arrived, I was trying to find my apartment on the first floor of my building, faced with seven identical maroon doors with no numbers or labeling whatsoever.  I stuck my key into every lock until I found a door that opened.  There’s a slight chance I’m actually living in the wrong apartment!  I really wonder why there are no numbers – this is the fourth Parisian apartment I’ve lived in and it’s been the same situation each time.

-I get harassed more by men.  I think these men are from Morocco or Algeria or maybe Turkey.  I don’t know.  But at least once a day, a guy follows me around and tries to talk to me and won’t give up easily.  I really don’t like it.

-The noises from outside are different. In London, the sounds were mostly scary urban noises: sirens, helicopters, drunk people causing mayhem.  I did live near King’s Cross though. Here, there are far fewer sirens, but non-stop vespas and motorcycles buzzing around.  There are a lot of dogs barking, a lot of babies crying, lots of people talking and laughing as they walk down the sidewalk.  One morning I was woken up by a live band playing, but I don’t know where it was coming from.

-And finally, I forgot how lovely it is to have REAL cafes!!!  Oh, what a joy.  I miss that the most when I’m in the UK or US.  In Europe, they have such lovely cafes.  I did pay 4.30€ for an Orangina the other day (must check prices first!) but cafes are great places to write and read.  Starbucks just can’t compare.

17 June, 2009 | 7 Comments

I haven’t had an internet connection for a few days…but I’m in Paris!  I will likely stay here for the whole summer, though I’m not 100 percent certain of that yet.   What I am certain of is that I have rented a flat until July 15th, a small studio not too far from Republique and very close to Oberkampf.   I rented the flat on Friday and hopped on the Eurostar on Saturday.  Whew!  But hey, I said I like to plan things last minute.

So anyway, as you may have guessed I canceled my trip to the States.  I had to postpone the trip because of some medical issues I was having – I underwent numerous tests, etc.  I’m pleased to say that I do not have anything seriously wrong with me and in fact, given all the tests I underwent, I know that I am healthier than I thought.  I will, however, need to have an out-patient surgical procedure in the autumn.  Blah.  But things could be worse. I was really quite worried for a while.  I had a symptom that most likely signaled something benign and commonplace, but it could have been a symptom of cancer.  I’m a born worrier, which didn’t help the situation, not that anyone wouldn’t have been worried in my place.   On top of that, I spoke with a couple of young doctors I know personally, both of whom scared me that I had a serious medical condition and needed to rush to the doctor immediately.   When I explained my symptoms, the first reaction of one of them was, “Hmmm, does your family have a history of cancer?”  Gee, that was helpful.  The past couple of months have been hellish for me.  Absolutely hellish.

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13 June, 2009 | 6 Comments

I’m moving out of the hall of residence today.  I just completed my last task, which was removing the porn that someone had plastered all over the inside of the lift – on the day the parents are here to move their kids out. Lovely.

I’ve spent almost two years here and I am more than ready to move on. I don’t want to be on-call anymore and woken up in the night to call the police, fire or ambulance. I don’t want to live any longer with teenagers, who look at me as a cranky old disciplinarian – I don’t like seeing myself that way.  I’ve spent the past two years living on a floor with 19-year-old boys.  Trust me, if anyone thinks this seems fun (perhaps in a porn movie sort of way), you’re wrong.  I desperately want my own kitchen so I can cook for myself – I’m surprised my body has been able to sustain life for two years eating this rubbish from the dining hall. I won’t miss living in a place that is filled with students and staff from around the globe.  It’s like living at the United Nations, with everyone arguing all the time about their country and how great it is.  Blah.  I won’t miss eating dinner every night with know-it-all medical students whose main goal in life is to make everyone else feel stupid.  I won’t miss know-it-all medical students at all.  And as for my co-workers, ha ha!  One of them asked me once why the Jews control everything.  That’s the kind of people I’ve had to deal with, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.  Given how much I don’t enjoy their company, I turned down the chance for a leaving party, which was dinner at a restaurant.  Why engage in such fakery, when everyone pretends they like each other and haven’t spent the past year stabbing each other in the back.  Sorry, but I can’t be that fake.  I received a “goodbye” card filled with banal platitudes and a bouquet of flowers.  I plan to sneak out the front door when I leave – I don’t really have anything more to say.  Of course I will keep in touch with a couple people – a few kind souls.  When I said goodbye to the kitchen lady, she hugged me twice and shed a tear.  She’s one of the only ones here who is kind and thoughtful.  I’ll send her a postcard when I’m gone.

Of course there were some good things about this place, primarily it’s location in lovely Bloomsbury (this year I could see the spires of St. Pancras from my window) and also the fact that I lived here rent-free.  Since I don’t get any funding from my uni, this free accommodation really made a huge difference in my ability to succeed as a PhD candidate.  So I am grateful for these things, but I just need a change.  Two years is a long time for me to stay in one place.  I get antsy.  And if I stayed in this place a moment longer, I might lose my sanity.  A thirtysomething woman should not be living with teenage boys, unless she’s their mother.

So today I am off.  All of my things are in storage. For the summer, I will have no fixed address.  That’s liberating and scary at the same time.  I have no idea where I’ll live when I return to London in August or September.  I’ll try not to think about that little problem.  I don’t mean to give the impression that I am feeling blue or anything like that.  I am blissfully happy to leave the hall and begin a new chapter of my life.  I’m giddy with excitement!

My summer plans have changed drastically this week, but at least when I leave the hall in a few minutes I won’t be homeless.  I have somewhere to go.  Maybe you can guess where.

Until later.

11 June, 2009 | 9 Comments

I don’t think anyone is reading this blog anymore.  I haven’t posted much lately because of everything that’s been going on and I think I’ve been abandoned en masse.  Oh well.  I’ll keep going for the time being.

I sort of won my battle against Virgin Atlantic.  I had originally paid £300 for my ticket to New York and they wanted to charge me £300 more to change it (£100 change fee + £200 fare increase).  I called back every single day in the hopes that the fares would drop, but no luck.  Meanwhile, I was very turned off by the complete lack of helpful customer service they offer – it’s really a disgrace.  My ticket was not refundable, but as I asked further about this, I learned that the fare is not refundable, but the taxes are.  Turns out the fare was only £100, but the taxes were a whopping £200!  That’s amazing.  So I am getting the £200 refunded.  I’ve lost £100, but I would have lost that under any scenario.

I do feel some sense of victory and will be glad to get my money back.  Of course now I don’t have a ticket home, but I’ve decided I’m not going.  New York doesn’t sound appealing to me anymore.  As of Saturday I am homeless.  Currently working on Plan B.  More later.

9 June, 2009 | Comments are off

While I’m handing out curses today, here’s another one for the London Underground, which is now on strike.  I think it should be illegal for them to strike, since public transport is an essential service.  They have absolutely no right to paralyze an entire city in this way.  Sack them all!

9 June, 2009 | Comments are off

Right now I curse the very existence of Virgin Atlantic.  I’m supposed to leave for NYC on Saturday but I am postponing that.  And these monsters at VA want to charge me £300 pounds to change my ticket – the same price I paid for it originally. Even with a medical reason, they will not waive the fee – only for hospitalization, which doesn’t apply to me.  I curse Virgin Atlantic, all who work there, all who own stock in it, Richard Branson, all the idiots at the “customer service” center who can barely speak a word of English and finally, all those who ride on her fleet.  I curse you!!!  All of you!!!

I have really learned a valuable lesson lately.  I am normally the type of person who does things at the last minute.  That’s just the way I am.  People have always made fun of me for doing this, have made me feel there is something fundamentally wrong with me and rolled their eyes in my direction. Well, for this trip to New York I planned everything out in advance like a good little girl.  How lovely.  And my reward for this is now having to undo everything I’ve done and paying a fortune in the process.  If I had planned this trip at the last minute, I would not have this problem.  There is nothing wrong with planning things at the last minute – life is unpredictable, things change, it’s best to be flexible.  If only I hadn’t gone against my true nature!  Lesson learned.

4 June, 2009 | 4 Comments

As we all know by now, Obama is in the Middle East, where he has taken his healing powers to solve all of the conflicts there.  Well, good luck with that.

Since the rights of women (or lack of them) in the Middle East is of the utmost importance to me, I’d like to examine Obama’s headline-grabbing speech in Cairo today, where the visionary prez addressed the issue of women’s rights directly.  Let’s look at everything he said on the issue – Obama’s quotes are in bold, followed by my commentary:

“I know, and you can tell from this audience, that there is a healthy debate about this issue.” What is there to debate?  Women are human and deserve every single right we are entitled to under international conventions of law and human rights – with no exceptions to be made for religious oppression.

“I reject the view of some in the West that a woman who chooses to cover her hair is somehow less equal.” A woman who covers her hair is “somehow less equal”?  Less equal in whose eyes?  That is not explained  This is an empty, meaningless comment.

“But I do believe that a woman who is denied an education is denied equality.” Wow, you radical feminist.

“And it is no coincidence that countries where women are well-educated are far more likely to be prosperous” So you see, you should give women rights because it’ll help the economy, not because, you know, they are human beings.

“Now let me be clear, issues of women’s equality are by no means simply an issue for Islam. In Turkey, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Indonesia, we’ve seen Muslim-majority countries elect a woman to lead.” Well, that’s more than we can say for America.  You made sure of that, Obama.

“Meanwhile, the struggle for women’s equality continues in many aspects of American life and in countries around the world.” Yeah, America is sexist too, so don’t worry, we’re not picking on you guys! 

“I am convinced that our daughters can contribute just as much to society as our sons.” WHOA!  Are you serious?  You’re convinced of women’s worth?  How long did it take you to reach this conclusion?

“I do not believe that women must make the same choices as men in order to be equal.” Yeah, so don’t worry, dudes.  You can allow a woman to drive a car and wear trousers, but she’ll still make choices that benefit you.  She’ll still do the dishes and shit.

“And I respect those women who choose to live their lives in traditional roles. But it should be their choice.” I love it when people use the word “choice” like this, as if women can ever have a “choice” under a deeply patriachal system.

“That is why the United States will partner with any Muslim-majority country to support expanded literacy for girls and to help young women pursue employment through micro-financing that helps people live their dreams.” Yeah, that gets to the heart of the matter.  That’ll solve everything.  Meanwhile, the bigger issues will remain unchanged.  Great work, Mr. O.

[Full text of the speech here.]

Well, that was a complete waste of time. Obama could have said something truly awesome about women’s rights in the Middle East – he had everyone’s attention.  But he blew it, because the plight of women in the Middle East is simply not important to him.  The men who dispense the oil from the giant teat that American sucks from are hostile to women’s rights.  So women don’t matter.  It’s as simple to that.

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3 June, 2009 | 2 Comments

I recently wrote about my cervical smear test and how this is a procedure I don’t particularly enjoy [not that many women look forward to having medical instruments stuck inside their lady parts.]  Unfortunately for me, since that post I’ve had more pieces of medical equipment stuck up there – and not just your garden variety speculum.  I’m thinking of installing a revolving door.  Or maybe charging admission. You know, anything to help with crowd control.

See, I can joke about it, but it’s not funny.  Or remotely pleasant.

[BTW, I still haven't gotten the results of the smear test.  It takes four to eight weeks to hear back - this is apparently slower than normal and due to the effect that Jade Goody's death from cervical cancer has had on the NHS.  I'm not dealing with cervical-related issues, but it would still be nice to get the results.]

Anyway, I’ve never had to really use the NHS before, besides the rare GP visit, so this is all a new experience.  My doctor hasn’t hesitated to order various tests for me and has in fact been very thorough.  The real downside is that things move very slowly, with the exception of blood work.  I was scheduled for one test that I could not get until the second week of July.  And as mentioned before, the smear results are nowhere on the horizon.  These are just routine tests, so I’m not sure what will happen if I need surgery eventually.  This week I ended up paying £206 to get the test I need done privately. I would rather have spent that money on a new handbag (!), but it was worth it, because now I think I know what the problem is.  I don’t mind waiting for treatment, but waiting for a diagnosis is hellish.  I’m just too impatient and anxious for that. £206 is worth it for some peace of mind.

So anyway, the NHS odyssey continues next week, when I’ll find out what the next steps are.  I don’t think I will be able to go to NYC next week as scheduled (and after the Air France disaster of this week, I’m not sure you’d get me on a trans-Atlantic flight so soon).  I won’t have anywhere to live as of next Saturday and life generally sucks, but I know it could be worse.  So I’ll deal with it.

One question to any Brits out there – if I have to move out of my current neighborhood, do I have to change doctors?  I’ve asked several people this question, but none of them know the answer.  I really like my doctor and don’t want to leave her, especially when we’re in the middle of all this.  But I have a feeling if I move to a different area, I will have to register at a new GP surgery, since when I registered at my current one I had to show proof of residence in this area.  My timing on everything is just awful!