November 2010
23 posts
There’s frost everywhere in Dublin…
Who wants to make bets on how much panic there will be if it doesn’t thaw by morning?
One intriguing aspect of “extreme decluttering” – and I’ll never utter that phrase again, I promise – is the way its adherents count their Kindles and iPods and MacBooks as single items, as if a book or album being digital meant it didn’t exist. Physically it may not, but where aversion and attachment are concerned, it’s the psychological level that matters. Psychologically, you still own those books. And psychologically, if you’re fixated on owning less stuff, you’re still fixated on stuff.
Tina Fey.
Brilliant.
But really, are they? Because I’m trying to make one and I don’t know how well it’s going.
In the past few years I’ve learned, from many an early morning, that if the early rising continues for more than a few days I actually grow to enjoy it. However, I relish my bed and when the next opportunity for a lie-in presents itself, I’m more than happy to oblige. Even when I know I would be happy and functional to get up, I’ll roll over and snuggle into the duvet creating an even more comfortable nest than a few minutes before.
Last week I challenged myself to get up at eight in the morning. I was out of bed and in my gym clothes by half eight. Very proud of myself (and due to some sever back pain) I had a lie in on both Saturday and Sunday. Lo and behold, I was awake both mornings at eight. Not one to be discouraged, I use the roll & snuggle technique to buy me a few more hours.
What’s the point you ask? This week it has been nearly impossible to get up at a reasonable hour, even though I was determined to get back to the eight am habit.
So tomorrow (that’s right, Saturday), the project begins again. I will reclaim the ‘bright’ Dublin morning and use it for…. well, I’ll figure that one out later.
Long Live the Inner Child!
Sometimes, in the midst of a brand-new relationship, I’m plagued by the sound of my mother’s voice, coupled with my screaming ovaries and the emotional stability of a 13-year old inner child, I get confused. I forget what’s important. I forget myself. And what/who could be enchanting/enchanted…
Muriel Barbery: The Elegance of the Hedgehog
(via fuckyeahliteraryquotes)
About time we had something to be happy about… Time to knock Norway, Australia, New Zealand and the US off their high horses.
‘Impossible,’ you say?
‘Iceland,’ I reply.
In the eyes of those who subscribe to the biological determinism, there is a good fit between the world as it is today and the innate aptitudes of men and women.
There is no dissatisfaction,
there is no frustration,
there is no misfiring between our desires and our situations.
Every aspect of inequality that we see today can be explained by the different genetic and hormonal make-up of men and women;
if women earn less,
if men have more power,
if women do more domestic work,
if mean have more status,
then this is simply the way that things are meant to be.
In this way the biological determinism of the twenty-first century works in the same way as the biological determinism of the nineteenth century, which told women who sought change that they were entirely unsuited to higher education or physical exertion. In Victorian Britain dissent was nevertheless voiced by a small but determined minority, which created real social change for women that proved the fatalists wrong.
If we are to move forward towards greater freedom and equality in this generation, we would need to overcome the influences of thee stereotypes, which currently affect our expectations of our children and our expectations of our partners and ourselves.
We would need to ask again why it is that we are allowing the stereotypes of the nurturing, empathetic woman and powerful, logical man to be seen as natural and inevitable and look instead at how these assumptions have been constructed, how they are maintained and how they can be challenged.
” —Natasha Walter (Living Dolls: The Return of Sexism)It requires a direct dispensation from Heaven to become a walker. You must be born into the family of the Walkers. Ambulator nascitur, non fit.
- Henry David Thoreau, Walking (1861) [full text]
Truth…
Finally, you need to plow through enough guys to realize that they’re all basically the same. That way, when you find a good one, not only will you be able to spot him, but you’ll also be comfortable in the knowledge that nothing better is waiting around the corner on a white horse.