Can of Worms #5

Worm #11: Should you tell your teenager that some people take drugs because they enjoy them?
The long and short of it: Yes.

My say: All too often adults make the classic mistake of assumming that teenagers are dumb and irresponsible. We should tell teenagers that some people take drugs because they enjoy them because the truth is, some people take drugs because they enjoy them. It isn't necessarily going to make teenagers snort the first bit of myseterious white powder they see - I mean, I'm fully aware that people have sex because it's enjoyable, but that's not going to make me run around naked screaming 'FUCK ME!' (unless I was really, really drunk). Most of the trouble teenagers get into is because of misunderstandings and half-truths conveyed from parents to their children, in the name of modesty/decency/privacy/whatever you can think of that's coming between you and being a good parent. I mean, teenagers are hardly going to believe you if you say that taking drugs causes pain or discomfort or whatever - everyone knows people take drugs to get high. Seriously.

Worm #12: Do we hero-worship our sports stars too much?
The long and short of it: Yes.


My say: I'm a big believer in the idea that we all have our own talents and we all have the right to go as far as we want to go, but we do idolize sportsmen far too much. I mean, they get honours that heart surgeons and people who discover cures for incureable diseases barely get. I grew up in a heavily sports-oriented environment where day in, day out, all the sporty kids were doled out medals and certificates and trophies, and all I could think of was 'what about me?'. We all have equal talents; we all should get equal rewards.

My Vision.

God or not (I seem to be using this phrase a lot lately. Hmm.) we are all here for a reason. We're all here to inspire, to create, to explore. I've had this vision for myself growing for some years now, and it's always changing - and that's a good thing. Here it is, now:

My gift is writing and I want to use my writing to inspire happiness and creativity in people. Whenever I speak about my views on anything, my main goal in the end is not to have the whole world think the exact same way as me, but simply to think - most of my biggest mistakes were caused because I didn't think things through properly. Things aren't set in stone, we are organic and plastic and we can move and evolve. I want to use my writing to achieve success, and then in turn inspire people to aim high and score.

I love creating things - I am an artist, and every day I create something. Through my writing I want to create something beautiful, something that people can just absorb and say wow. I love cooking and I love creating things to eat. I love to do something, and step back and realize that, because of my labours, something is there that wasn't there before, and never would have been there if not for me. But most importantly, as a woman, I want to one day create life; I hope and pray that one day I will be mother to children who will also seek to inspire, create and explore.

I always like to explore what I can do, push the limits a little. Don't you love it when, after hours of exploring, you find a little niche that you can call 'mine'? Lately I've taken to exploring the mystical realm of love - not working out too well, but every happy traveller is bound to have some low points. Life is about asking questions and getting them answered; life is about exploring, touching, feeling, believing.

Men are fathers before anything else.

Feminist that I am, I firmly believe that, God or not, women are first intended to be mothers and - and this is what most people miss out on - men are first intended to be fathers. I think we all forget this - because career and education and finance and business aside, it is a man's first responsibility to be a good father to his children. God or not.

There is nothing sexist about responding to the natural calling of parenthood. Although it's hard, especially for women, to balance professional and private lives, it can work. My mother has always been working and/or studying full time and my sister and I have never felt like she hasn't struck the perfect balance. Love you, mum ;).

What I don't understand is that men have so much time, so many opportunities, and yet an alarmingly increasing number fail invest enough time or energy to be decent fathers. I mean, women have to face workplace discrimination, pay inequities, the time bomb that is the female biological clock - there is no excuse why any man in the world cannot be a good father. A great man is a great father, or else he is not a man at all. There's nothing particularly feminine or unmasculine about raising children, otherwise women would just asexually reproduce and there'd be no men to walk the Earth. Think about it. God or not.

There's more to being a father than putting money in a bank account. Think about it - are you doing all you can to be the best father you can be? 

The religion of dating politics.

I've always been considered a 'good' girl in that, at the ripe old age of fifteen, I don't dabble in the big bad worlds of drugs, sex and alcohol. There are a good many reasons for that - firstly because even if I considered myself old enough for the latter two of three, I am certainly not old enough for the consequences, but mostly because it's stupid and I'm lazy :)

I think many people are terrified that if they break away from their religion they'll just fall away to the dark side - like you can be Jedi or Sith but not neither (soz for the bad anology). Most people assume that most atheists are cheerfully amoral or immoral and genuinely couldn't give a fuck. I'll tell you, here and now, that that is not true. But instead of considering my actions responsible to God, I consider my actions responsible to myself and the ones I love. Have I let myself down? Have I let my family and friends down? How do I fix this so I can feel better about myself? Egotistical, maybe, but it's still a very spiritual way to make sure you don't fall down the slippery slope to sin.

A very long time ago I was talking with the school chaplain about how many boys my age are so completely unsuitable as peers, as friends, as boyfriends and as future husbands and fathers (or something like that).I t's an often laughed-upon fact, but I have this hypothesis that most women in early adolescence goes through this brief period of freaking out because future husband material is not acting like future husband material. Call it maternal instict, if you will. Now, you might think that's a hopeless stereotype, but I was thirteen and had just been dumped, and it seemed like all his friends thought it was the most hilarious thing to happen since that Indian chick showed up with unshaven legs. In fact, now that I think about it, most of the 'good boys' I have known have been religious to the point of irritation.

My views of boys and religion have changed and matured, but the basis is still true: religion keeps people grounded to the basic principles of respect, honesty, humility and compassion, especially in people who may not have the inner strength (or common sense) to regulate their own behaviour for the benefit of themselves and for others, no God involved. Is it so hard to find someone as young as me who can be good and see good in others without God? It is possible - I feel no more vulnerable to human weaknesses than the next (Christian) man. Find me a good atheist husband, and I'll die a happy woman :)

Shrek Love

I'm in love with a little pot of green goo.

It's the Tea Tree Mask from the Body Shop, and it is literally a little pot of green goo. It's my go-to for breakouts, which are more or less eternal and simultaneous now. I wear it around the house - I also wear a skivvy and two wooly jumpers with a pair of Mickey Mouse sweatpants and ugg boots. So I am, essentially, Shrek.

I've suffered from depression before, and I've been open about that, but I don't think I - or anyone - have been fully honest about my insecurity. It plagues me like the devil, you've no idea. I spend most of my life kicking myself for doing whatever I did for the part of my life I haven't spent kicking myself. On my blog I'm more open, because you can't see me and I can't see you. Seeing is believing.

If I ever got a live in partner or a husband or whatever down the track, would I be confident enough to waddle around looking like Shrek? Probably not. I, like most women my age, have spent most of my life either wishing I was sexy or acting as if I were sexy. The former is the truth; the latter is my variation of self-confidence. It's sad! My mother, who is a woman who only gets about two hours sleep, can wake up looking like a woman who's only had about two hours sleep and feel confident my dad isn't going walk out because she's not a Victoria's Secret model. Me? I'm not so sure. I've lost faith in men, and I've lost faith in myself. This commercialized, industrialized, sexualized world has done wonders for my (distinct lack of) self esteem.

There's this boy that I am currently pretending that I'm not in love with - I'm saying that because I hate his guts and I hate my guts for not hating his guts properly (the definition of love) - who I inadvertently ran into. Well, when I say ran into I mean backed into, because he's huge, the gap between the back of my chair and the wall is tiny, he's to gentlemanly/awkward/drunk to say anything and I'm a deaf idiot. It's the sort of thing any person laughs off and forgets about in six seconds. Me? Oh, I laugh it off, alright. And then I'm kicking myself. Why? I'm human, but the person who can't accept that, is, well, me.

I think about a lot of people - I think I've said this before. I think about myself. I think about my dog and my mum and my sister. I think about the boy in lit class and Cristy and Hayden from MasterChef. But I may be the only person I know who considers it an honour to be thought of. I mean, if someone thought of me, just for a heartbeat, and it wasn't 'if she gets those extra marks in Ancient History I'm going to kill myself' I would be deliriously happy. Over the moon to Mars, where I'd fry with a big grin on my face.

You know what? I would love to be a stand up comedian. I love to laugh; I love to make other people laugh. It's why I repeat jokes o'er and o'er in the off chance I can recreate the scene of my mum pissing herself laughing at something idiotic I said when I was three. But I can't do it. I suffer from stage fright. Well, if I'm not, then my ears are. My great-granddad's ears go bright tomato red. I found out a couple of years ago I have my great-granddad's ears. I also, apparently, have my grandmother's lips. But with that, if I ever get kissed this milennia, will he/she be kissing me or my grandmother?

I really hate it when people say 'oh, you've got your mother's legs' (I do) and 'oh, you've got your father's feet' (Unfortunately). Because, and I'm blaming hormones for this, all I can think of is that I'm this pastiche of various different body parts, and someone eventually is going to be shagging the entire family. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have written that. But why censor thoughts? We think them, either way.

But it's fascinating when you find out something about yourself that you didn't know before. I mean, it's just strange - it's like you're not all yourself, and it's quite a scary thought that other people know you better than, well, you know you. You know, sometimes I have to actually remind myself that I am a walking piece of medical shit. I genuinely forget it, even when I've just got out of the shower and all I can see are the surgical scars. It's become so normal that sometimes I even think that everyone's got it. Sometimes I step back and thing 'wow...I'm stranger than you dreamt it...'

You know one character I identify with? The Phantom, being The Phantom of the Opera. That is such a cool name, innit? I half don't want to be remembered by my name - I'd be happy with The Moron of the Mod School. Seriously. Well, maybe not. Not as sexy. Anyway, the Phantom is living proof that ugly people can be sexy. Ugly people can be sexy, you know why? Because if we weren't then ugly people would have died out a long time ago. I mean, it gives me hope. The Moron of Mod School may eventually trip down the aisle eventually.

I wish people could feel what I feel. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone - lover, friend, whatever - who genuinely gets me. Or maybe I will. But maybe I'll just be too scared to show it. Because for all the show, for all the internet pseudonyms and angsty feminism, I'm really just Shrek in Ugg Boots, and I'm not too sure whether Fiona's coming anytime soon.

Housewives: A Feminist's Perspective.

housewife: a married woman who is chiefly employed in the domestic sphere and usually does not accept paid work.

Is the role of housewife sexist? Well, it depends how you look at it.

I believe that all women have the right and responsibility to ensure that they are educated and employable, whether they pursue a career or not. I mean, it's all very well to put your feet up once you snatch a husband, but life isn't always a dream. Death and divorce and financial hardship happens. What if you get bored, or taken advantage of, etc.? That's why, no matter who or what you are or want to be, I maintain that all women have the right and the responsibility to ensure that they are educated for the modern world.

A career is a woman's choice, and I believe, as a feminist, that if it is a woman's choice to become a houswife than who are we, as feminists, to prevent her? But it must be a free and concrete choice and - dare I say - a choice that is not purely based on religion. Which is why I am happy to see the emergance of work insurance for stay at home mums, because houswives do not work any less than normal wives - or, at least, they shouldn't.

What I don't approve of is women becoming housewives because the HUSBAND says so, or the LORD says so, or because SOCIETY says so, or because anyone but THEM says so. 

I don't see being a full-time mother as being particularly necessary - in fact, I observed that children who had been reared entirely at home had increased separation anxiety than those who attended childcare and kindergarten. My mother works full-time and my sister and I went to childcare, and we turned out just fine. Well, that's the general consensus, anyway.

A housewife is not some useless ninny who sits at home all day painting her nails and fixing her hair, waiting for her cashed-up husband to come home to supplement her crazy sex life with the butler. No. A housewife derives her occupation from running house and home and - and here is the cincher - contributes to society by taking as much paid or unpaid work as possible, without impeding on her original task as housewife. 

What's also sad is that even though the number of employed women is on the rise, men still refuse to contribute to the domestic running of the household. If both mummy and daddy work than the household chores should be split 50/50, right? No. Statistics have shown that working women do roughly the same amount of women as their stay-at-home counterparts, and this does not change if their partners are employed or not. Shame on you, lazy husbands. Shame on you.

FYI, future husband who may be reading this: if you don't do the dishes I'll kick you to the curb :).

Hunter and the Hunted.

I feel quite like a doe
With a bow and arrow.

I don't know how but
I would like to shoot.

But if I shoot the hunter
How am I to be hunted?

How can something so evil
Feel so good?

I would swap cloven hoof
For fingers and toes,

I'd swap fur for
Breast and legs.

I'd take a spear and
Run them through

And so the hunter became the hunted.

Then I'd find a stag
To call my own
And become once again the doe.

And so the hunted became the hunter.


Inspired by 'Whoso List to Hunt' by Sir Thomas Wyatt.

Routine Infant Circumcision and FGM

First of all, some definitions:

Routine infant circumcision is the circumcision (removal of all or part of the foreskin) of infants on a routine basis (i.e. not for religious or medical reasons).

FGM, or female genital mutilation, is the removal or modification of some or all of the external female sex organs, primarily for religious reasons.

I am vehemently opposed to routine infant circumcision and FGM - always have been, always will be. In a word? Choice. A doctor, a mother, nobody has the right to say whether a piece of an infant can be hacked off and discarded. It's nobody's choice but his.

Routine infant circumcision is a barbaric, outdated and fundamentally useless practice practiced in America and in Muslim and Jewish countries. And it's not just a bit of skin, and he will miss it. I'm not going into details, but statistics show that circumcised men have more sexual problems than uncircumcised men. Why can't we just leave it be? Men were born this way.

To be honest, I don't see religion as a very good excuse for it, either. If it said in the Bible or the Torah or the Koran or any other holy book to hack off our arms, and burn our babies, would we blindly do it? A book is a book, no matter how holy. A book is a static, stationary time capsule, and following a book word for word is doing the time warp. Times change. Religion doesn't. That's just that.

FGM is a revolting suppression of female sexuality and a violation of human rights. It's primarily an Islamic thing, although it is quite extremist and many Muslims (thank goodness!) are shunning it as a cruel barbarity. The sick part is that circumcision may sometimes be excused 'for religious reasons', but the primary function of FGM is to avoid female sexual arousal and to give men dominance in a sexual relationship. I can't even begin to tell you how sick and twisted this practice is. FGM is often a backyard practice performed by inexperienced, unqualified people in unsanitary environments, and many die or become seriously ill from infection. People with more extreme variants of FGM cannot even pass urine without discomfort, and FGM greatly increases the pain and stress of labour and childbirth. Shame on anyone who supports FGM.

I don't understand why we mutilate our bodies in the name of religion, or social convention. Since when have we become so weak and swayable? Before you jumble up your and your children's rights with religion and he says she says, think about it. A body is a body. A life is a life.

Nostalgia.

I was doing maintenence on my blog recently and flipped back to my earliest posts back in the good ol' days of '08. Actually, they were pretty shit days. But never mind.

It shocked me how much I've grown up in these last few years of blogging - I started out as a little kid of twelve and now I'm fifteen and nearly going to university. Some things haven't changed; the anger, the ambition, the passion, the power-struggle - but some things have. I'm older, wiser, stronger - I feel more like me. I was stunted and suffocated back then, and I've only just begun to realize just how wide my wings can spread.

I was young and silly and exuberant and immature, but it's part of what I was and it's still part of who I am, which is why I can't bear to delete any of those old and ridiculously inane posts. Because I wanna look back and laugh at my terror of big red-eyed fish in the lake. I wanna look back and think of how many times Asian sensibility has very nearly killed me. I wanna look back and laugh at all the boys that used to make me cry. I want this blog to be a time capsule as much as it is a diary.

I'm proud of how far I've come, but I'm proud of how I was back then, too. I was a fighter. I had to break away from everything people take as a given - acceptance, friends, love - just to have a shot, one tiny chance, at aiming high. My early teens were a tough time, but I'm a better person because I put my hand in the fire. And even though I was depressed, bullied, dumped, rejected and bored to tears, I don't regret any of it. I'm where I wanted to be now, and I know where I want to be in the future. When one is young and as humble as I am, that's a good place to be. At the age of fifteen, I've experienced how rewarding sacrifice and resilience can be.

But I'm a little nostalgic about it all - sometimes I kinda wish I was my pre-teen gung-ho self. As I get older the things I break away from are harder, the risks are bigger and the stakes are higher. Little seeds of insecurity somehow manage to sneak through the cracks. I'm not the twelve year old martyr I used to be - it's amazing how just three years of age can really weary you. Sometimes when I'm tired and sad I remember how happy I was when I was five sitting in the little tree house at school and staring at the sky, wondering whether I could eat a cloud and what it would taste like. And one day I'll flip back to the good ol' days of 2011 and remember sitting here, with the dogs passed out on the sofa, pretending to do homework.

Life and death is but a dream, and all the men and women merely figments of one's imagination.

Can of Worms #4

Okay, so there was a stuff up on the Can of Worms website so there is only one worm today. But it's a goodie.

Worm #10: Is marriage necessary anymore?
The long and short of it: Yes.

My say: A lot of people assume that because of my religious beliefs (or distinct lack thereof) that I do not intend to get married. That's not true. I want a big white wedding and I want to walk down the aisle to 'Teenage Dream' by Katy Perry and I want my groom to be a hot sexy Oxford graduate Ralf Laurent model...but that's another story.

To me, a marriage is an opportunity to publicly acknowledge eternal love and lifelong commitment, and whilst I support de facto relationships I think that any couple that plans a long-term relationship that isn't prepared to go public with it has serious issues. If you're lucky enough to have boy meets girl and you haven't burned your house to the ground, then why not? So, marriage is still necessary even if Australia progresses in a secular direction as I hope it will, and it is everyone's right regardless of anything to have the right to say 'I do'.