Hi there. Hello, What’s up? G’day. Yo, whatevz, what’s the happs? How are you? Gooood? Yeah, me too, well you know, could be better, but heeey, first world, can’t complain aye?
Okay then, now that the awkward postponed internet greeting has been dealt with, I shall get back to my regular blogging flow. Well, not quite yet. First, I’m going to congratulate the United States of America for electing Obama as the president once again. Thank you. I’ve been thinking about possibly moving to the U.S (specifically L.A) lately, and if Mitt Romney won… well, I would definitely have to reconsider.
Greeeaat, my left hand is currently falling asleep. How convenient, I have a feeling this is the result of typing and how cold my hands are at the moment. ANYWAY.
Speaking of American elections. I stumbled across this article about a bunch of ill informed American citizens who would like to move to Australia because Barack Obama will be the president for another term. I found it fucking hilarious. I was going to go on and on about why this idea is incredibly stupid, but I think this graphic I found sums it up quite well.
The whole education deal in the U.S freaks me out too. I’m going to be honest here, I don’t know much about how the system works. All I know is, when I was on exchange, my friend and I didn’t have to pay for tuition in Buffalo because our CSP (Commonwealth Supported Place) was covering the cost, as it usually would at Monash. For a semester the money was given to UB instead. We, as international students, didn’t have to pay tuition to attend an American University, but the local students had to pay, WTF?! No really, what is up with that? Lastly, most of us think the whole ‘right to bear arms’ crap is a pointless load of bullshit. I hate guns.
The charming words in the title are the result of a rant my sister had tonight. A rant because of the main story that has been taking up a majority of news time locally, recently. If you’re Australian, you have most likely already heard of the tragic case of Jill Meagher. If not Australian, and unaware, type her name into Google, it won’t take you long to figure out what happened. I’ve walked on Sydney Road, quite a few times, during the day and a couple of times during the night. It is not a place you expect to find yourself threatened. Then again, a place that makes you feel unsafe and on edge shouldn’t even exist. I will never understand how anybody could ever think it’s ok to murder another individual. What right do any of us have to take life away from somebody else? No right, is the answer, nobody has that right. No one.
About a week and a half ago, Madeline posted this. Madeline, is a smart cookie and she’s correct when she tells us that we still need feminism. To be blunt, and very Australian here (if ya know what I mean) fuck oath we do. Madeline’s post made me begin to think about all of the times, I have been treated differently, because of my gender. Because, I happen to be a female. Do you know how many times people tell me to fucking smile? Do you? I’ll tell you, A LOT. Most of the time, I just shrug it off, because I’ve heard it on so many occasions that I’ve become used to it, but sometimes, it really angers me. Why is it so important that I constantly smile? Once, an old man, basically ordered me to smile more. For what fucking reason? I don’t see anybody approaching any men, ordering that they smile more. Why, do we, as women, have to constantly exude this overtly polite, nice, warm, friendly, nature? If a man doesn’t smile, no one thinks anything of it, if a man looks pissed off… still, no one thinks much of it, in fact, many even find this attractive. You know, the whole… ‘bad boy’ image. If a woman doesn’t have a huge smile on her face 24/7, there are those who will assume she’s a bitch. I know this, because people have told me. I don’t smile very often, it’s not that I’m constantly miserable, but my natural facial expression doesn’t position itself into a fucking smile. I have no control over the way my face naturally looks without expression, yet people feel the need to constantly tell me to smile. Why the hell do I have to look friendly and welcoming all the time anyway? I actually like the fact that I happen to look unapproachable most of the time, perhaps it will deter freaks from approaching me when I’m alone. So yeah, there is that whole smile problem.
Another thing. A few weeks ago when I was working, I mentioned how awesome I was (because you know, in some ways, I am pretty awesome), my colleague (a male) made fun of me and mocked my confidence. At that moment, it was like there was a lightbulb in my head that suddenly turned on. Why should I not have confidence? I thought to myself. I explained to him that I find it bizarre that female confidence is often questioned and perceived as bitchy, especially if the confidence is displayed frequently, (unless it’s the social sort of confidence, the type of confidence that makes it easy for a woman to approach a man and strike up a flirty conversation, that’s the type of confidence men love) while male confidence and sometimes even arrogance is seen as a positive or merely laughed off.
Back to the whole smiling issue now. Have you ever been approached by a creep and spoken to? Have you ever looked back and given them the fuck off look? Have you ever told a bunch of boys to leave you alone? I have, and the response I most often remember is something along the lines of:
Why are you such a bitch?
I just wanted to talk!
You’re a slut!!!!!!!!!!!
All of these are always said in a frightening, aggressive tone
So you know, because I don’t want to engage in a boring conversation with some seedy dude, I’m a slut. Uh huh. You know what’s fucked up? Men don’t even really have an equivalent word to describe assumed promiscuity. It’s only us women that get the whole slut card shoved in our faces. I find the whole slut calling thing, when you’ve told a guy to get lost, really messed up. Firstly, because… well, what the fuck is a slut anyway? That is such a stupid, pathetic, oppressive insult. You know what I’m saying girls? Secondly, somebody randomly calling me a slut, is assuming that I happen to have sex with a lot of people, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I find it rude that somebody would make assumptions about my sexual activity and attempt to degrade me for it, just because I don’t want to speak to them. As if I have some obligation to speak to them, just because they happen to be a man.
I think what a lot of men have to realise, is that we are not pieces of fucking meat. Yes, even if I’m wearing a short skirt and a crop top, even if my thighs are exposed, even if I have decided to expose cleavage, whatever. That does NOT IN ANY WAY OR FORM GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO TREAT ME LIKE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I AM, A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. When I’m driving, I don’t appreciate being stared at by older men in their cars or trucks, like a bloody object. I’m not a toy in a fucking department store, show some god damn basic respect. The whistles, the cat calling, the blatant stares, no, I don’t find them flattering, I find them insulting and guess what?! That doesn’t make me a bitch.
Jill Meagher did not deserve what happened to her because she was walking alone, she didn’t deserve it because she had been drinking, she didn’t deserve it because she was pretty, what happened to her was not okay because she wasn’t some douche bag’s idea of what ‘hot’ is. It is never, ever, EVER, EVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER, okay to rape someone. EVEEER!! I don’t care if the girl is fucking naked and drunk, it is NEVER OK. Okay. Good. There is nothing a woman can do that makes rape justifiable. It is always wrong and it’s never the victim’s fault. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise, because that is the biggest load of bullshit that could possibly exist.
I’m slightly overwhelmed by how behind I am with this whole blogging schedule that only exists in my mind. It’s somehow, a little frightening, but yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. Ceebs constantly apologising for post delays, so whatever. Here I am, typing something. Yes. Hmm. Okay…
I have nothing to type, well I do, but again, ceebs HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA *delirious laughter*
I’ve decided to begin practicing new things when I edit these images. Trying to gain new skills and what not, so don’t be surprised if things get a little cray up in here, visually, that is.
Eh, this image is freaking gross.
This post, or rather, these images, have been chilling in my drafts folder for about a week. I just couldn’t be bothered bringing myself to type anything to accompany the images. Not that I really need to. I mean, I visit a lot of blogs that feature little to no written (typed) content most of the time. Real life took a front seat during the last seven days and the blog had to get to the back. It’s all good though. I’m feeling a lot better now. About everything in general, I have more motivation to actually do creative stuff. I have soo many outfits and posts to upload, so that’s going to keep me busy this week. Plus, I desperately must start planning and creating my online professional presence, aka my folio. It has to get done, I’m just going to have to be strict and set times to work on it. Pretend I have an assignment or something.
These were taken a while ago, I don’t really like the way I look in these images but meh, I like the outfit. I really don’t like my hair in that style. At all. Ew.
I’m sadly going to start being a lot more cautious about what I type on this blog. People who know me in real life read it and use it to harshly judge me and create unecessary problems in my life. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you guys but I really fucking HATE drama and conflict. I literally loathe being involved in it. Some people thrive on that shit, but I can’t stand it and I have to rid myself of such poison in my life. Oh yeah, it’s officially spring now. Fuck my life, soon every Dark Vice post is going to be a combination of the following:
- OMG, IT’S SO FUCKING HOT I HATE THE WORLD
- MY HAIR LOOKS LIKE SHIT BECAUSE ITS CONSTANTLY OILY AND FRIZZY
- HOW DOES ONE WEAR ANYTHING HALF DECENT WHEN IT FEELS LIKE AN OVEN OUTSIDE?
- TOO HOT TO MOVE, TOO HOT TO DO ANYTHING
- SWEATING LIKE CRAAAAYZAY
yeeeah, that’s going to be interesting. not. BUH BYE.
Are you familiar with that feeling, when you have a cold? It’s the end of the day, your throat feels sore from the constant speaking and perhaps lack of hydration, your nose is horribly dry from the overuse of tissues, and you just generally feel not so hot. Yeah, that’s me right now. We’ve all been there. I woke up this morning in immense pain, and ate some yoghurt as quickly as I could so I could give my stomach some sort of lining in preparation for the pain killers I swallowed. I set off for work. Ah work. I’m so over it some days. Seeing people there, from my past, that I don’t really want to see. It’s lame. I’m sure we all know what that feels like too. Oh how I crave the day I move from this city. I want to go somewhere where I’m completely anonymous. I feel like being anonymous will liberate me. Actually, I know it will. There is far too much pressure to conform here, not just pressure from the randoms that stare at me, from the people that society dictates I’m supposed to be the closest to.
But this post isn’t going to be a sad one, this post is going to be angry, because I am angry. There’s nothing wrong with being angry and there’s nothing wrong with having negative emotions. It doesn’t make you a bitch, it doesn’t mean you’re a party pooper or that you’re insecure or whatever. Anger is just another emotion as worthy as all the other emotions we are capable of feeling. Oh and don’t worry, despite how it may seem, I’m really not mad or negative all the time, it just so happens that I find a lot of angry topics more interesting. In reality, I am a decently pleasant person to be around. I don’t just stand there, giving everybody death stares. Or do I?
Yesterday, I was at home, trying to rest my virus infested body. My boyfriend very kindly came over and sacrificed his own health to keep me company. We decided to sit down and watch a movie. I was feeling quite content at that point, just sitting there, being calm, watching a movie, everything was alright. Five minutes into the movie, I hear an abrupt, loud, knocking on the door. I walk over, to find my grandparents standing outside. This is going to be interesting, I thought to myself. My grandparents are so old fashioned, I wasn’t sure if my boyfriend being there was acceptable to them. They came in, and my grandmother decided she was going to make a meal for the entire family. I repeatedly told her not to, but she insisted. It’s frustrating. I know I should be thankful, but really, everyone in my family is an adult, we don’t need her to come and cook for us. She should be enjoying herself, not doing chores for us. Unnecessary chores. What annoyed me even more, is the fact that I was sitting there, trying to relax, my grandmother comes and starts making some meal. Of course, I felt obliged to go help. My simple plans were ruined. When my grandparents are over, I have to begin doing house chores and continue to do house chores for the entire duration, otherwise, my grandfather will find a reason to whinge about something.
I was going about my business, doing house work, like a good greek girl, so I wouldn’t have to deal with crap from my grandfather. For a moment, I got tired and sat down. Grandpa asked what was wrong with me, I responded by informing him that I was sick. He gave me utter look of complete disgust and said, “yeah, you’re sick, yeeeah right”. At this point, I was so frustrated, I could feel tears building up in my eyeballs. I went and sat in my room, ranting to my boyfriend about how annoying his mentality is. Because I’m a girl, my place in life is to only be a house wife, that’s it. (Side note: You know once, my grandpa actually questioned why I was studying at University, he told me I should be at home learning to cook instead.) When I composed myself, I left my room and found my grandmother in my brother’s room attending to ALL of his chores. My sister’s room was messy as well, but my grandmother ignored that and marched straight to my brother’s room. Meanwhile, my grandfather was going INSANE because my sister’s room was not immaculate. He always yells things like, “For a girl, her room is so terrible, she should be ashamed of herself”. Ok, fair enough that you want someone to be neat, but why the emphasis on the fact that she’s a female? Why does the guy get away with doing nothing?! I mean yes, my brother works, but so do I and so does my sister, and if anything, my brother has the least physical job. Most of the time, he’s sitting in an office or driving around.
Anyway, back to my grandmother in my bro’s room. She made his bed, and was now folding all his clothes. I got so angry, and told her to stop. I proclaimed that my brother should be folding his own clothes and making his own bed. She totally snapped, “NO, he’s your brother, he’s a man, he doesn’t have to do this, the woman should do EVERYTHING You and your sister should be looking out for your brother, he doesn’t have to do anything.”. I was fuming. What the fuck man?! Okay, I didn’t actually respond like that, but I sure as hell was thinking it. What excuses my brother out of his duties and why should I be responsible for cleaning up after him and basically being his god damn slave? Because I’m a woman and he’s a man? GET FUCKED (not my grandmother, just this idea in general) that is bullshit.
Honestly, I feel quite sorry for my grandmother. That’s all she knows, she’s just grown up, in my eyes, basically being a slave to my grandfather. I mean, sure, he worked hard, but she worked too, and it isn’t fair that even now, when neither of them are working, she still has to do EVERYTHING. When the hell is she ever going to enjoy her life? Never, because (and I told her this) she’s been brainwashed, and doesn’t even know how to relax, or do something for herself, her whole life is just about doing things for other people. My grandmother also told my boyfriend and I, that if we don’t eat meat, WE WILL DIE. Ah, so cringe worthy, considering my boyfriend has been a vegetarian since birth. I do have a level of respect for them both, but unlike the majority of my family, I can’t even pretend to agree with these ideas. I just can’t, it goes against my own morals way too much.
Here is me, trying to make the outfit photos look a little more interesting by doing something other than just standing there like a statue.