2002-09-07 - 10:17 p.m.
Billy Zane is phantom-liscious.
White is the new black.
And tls lives on in virtual reality.
My name is Babs and this is my day (Cue the Woman's Day theme as background music)
Taking your time, waiting for a better life
Something, something, you're more than just a wife...
It's your day... woman's day...
How sad is it that I can even remember that much of the themesong for the blandly gossipy old women type people's magazine.
Not that I'm knocking Women's Day you understand, as it will probably be one of my closest companions during my future life as an old type person.
... I tried to do a nice little segue for you but it didn't happen so I'm just going to instead say - I like Billy Zane's arms...
But you know what really got me? Phantom appears in purple-tastic outfit in building in 1930's. Woman sees purple-tastic outfit and drops purse in shock. (Or possibly he knocks it out of her hand, I forget now). Despite being in pursuit of the major-evil-bad-guy, he still bends down and gracefully, courteously, returns it to her.
BRING BACK CHIVALRY DAMNIT!
I'll tell you what, if you bring back chivalry we can pretend that whole feminism thing never happen.
Yup, we'll just reinforce that old glass ceiling and take back a few little liberties (the right to vote, bah) and boom! You'll be holding doors open for me and putting your jackets on puddles so I can walk across and I'll betrapped confined happily doing housewife type duties.
I'm only half not serious here. I am more oppressed with having many choices than with having none.
From here I feel as if I would love to be confined, defined by some house-wifey type role with it all decided for me. But knowing me, I'd probably get sick of it eventually and turn into one of those bra-burning (although I'd probably be trying to spare the pretty ones) type feminists of that era I can't remember the name of.
But even then I'd love the thing of having something to fight for, something definite to fight against. Instead of this weird here, the place of endless potential and possibilities...
Do you have any idea how stifling that is? In an environment where I am completely and utterly free to be whomever I may chose to be, I can't, just because the message "Be yourself!" is totally inhibiting somehow.
And I now conclude with the above conclusive proof that I am a non-sense-making freak.
Uraghaha. 3 days til new hair. Think it'll change anything?
In a person where change is a thing brought about by completely arbitrary events such as a popstar or a shared look with a nice boy or even an internet stalker, it's really difficult to say.
Damnit, why did all my exmaples have to involve boys? Am officially boy-crazy. Desperate urge to add a "tee-hee" to that.
Oh god, am such a girl.
Not sure why I'm saying that because really you'd think he'd (?she'd) know, but hey...
I'll stop lingering, let's pretend we don't know better and I have some kind of life to attend to now.
White is the new black.
And tls lives on in virtual reality.
My name is Babs and this is my day (Cue the Woman's Day theme as background music)
Taking your time, waiting for a better life
Something, something, you're more than just a wife...
It's your day... woman's day...
How sad is it that I can even remember that much of the themesong for the blandly gossipy old women type people's magazine.
Not that I'm knocking Women's Day you understand, as it will probably be one of my closest companions during my future life as an old type person.
... I tried to do a nice little segue for you but it didn't happen so I'm just going to instead say - I like Billy Zane's arms...
But you know what really got me? Phantom appears in purple-tastic outfit in building in 1930's. Woman sees purple-tastic outfit and drops purse in shock. (Or possibly he knocks it out of her hand, I forget now). Despite being in pursuit of the major-evil-bad-guy, he still bends down and gracefully, courteously, returns it to her.
BRING BACK CHIVALRY DAMNIT!
I'll tell you what, if you bring back chivalry we can pretend that whole feminism thing never happen.
Yup, we'll just reinforce that old glass ceiling and take back a few little liberties (the right to vote, bah) and boom! You'll be holding doors open for me and putting your jackets on puddles so I can walk across and I'll be
I'm only half not serious here. I am more oppressed with having many choices than with having none.
From here I feel as if I would love to be confined, defined by some house-wifey type role with it all decided for me. But knowing me, I'd probably get sick of it eventually and turn into one of those bra-burning (although I'd probably be trying to spare the pretty ones) type feminists of that era I can't remember the name of.
But even then I'd love the thing of having something to fight for, something definite to fight against. Instead of this weird here, the place of endless potential and possibilities...
Do you have any idea how stifling that is? In an environment where I am completely and utterly free to be whomever I may chose to be, I can't, just because the message "Be yourself!" is totally inhibiting somehow.
And I now conclude with the above conclusive proof that I am a non-sense-making freak.
Uraghaha. 3 days til new hair. Think it'll change anything?
In a person where change is a thing brought about by completely arbitrary events such as a popstar or a shared look with a nice boy or even an internet stalker, it's really difficult to say.
Damnit, why did all my exmaples have to involve boys? Am officially boy-crazy. Desperate urge to add a "tee-hee" to that.
Oh god, am such a girl.
Not sure why I'm saying that because really you'd think he'd (?she'd) know, but hey...
I'll stop lingering, let's pretend we don't know better and I have some kind of life to attend to now.
