mrsronweasley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mrsronweasley) wrote2003-02-04 08:19 pm
mrsronweasley) wrote2003-02-04 08:19 pm
On Sex. Ha. Well, sort of...
EDITED TO SAY: Fucking hell! The Brighton Pier's on fire! Gah! Nooooooooooooo!..
So. I think I fucked up royally. When I was here last night, I was listening to one of the CD's Robin lent me, like I normally do. And I'm normally very good at PUTTING IT BACK IN ITS CASE before leaving. However, yesterday, three people showed up and dragged me away to a pub (not that I was complaining, you see, and that pint went down rather nicely while discussion of death and childhood prevailed), but now I can't find the fucking CD. P.J. Harvey. To Bring You My Love. I cannot find THAT CD! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?!?! I am SUCH a fucking ASSHOLE! I think I've lost Robin's CD - and that's just...ARGH! ARGH, I tell you! God, I really hate myself sometimes, because no matter how hard I try not to, I always, sooner or later, end up doing shit like this, and just...ugh. No wonder my family doesn't take me seriously. Fucking hell.
Anyway. So, The Suspected Cheese Thief turned out to be a non-thief, because HIS cheese has gone missing, as well. WTF? Why is this person, whoever the fuck he or she is, targetting cheese products?! Cheese, dip, cream cheese... And the most important question is this - WHERE does it all go?! I mean, a girl had her entire, newly-bought block of cheese stolen - who the fuck would eat cheese so quickly that they don't need to refrigerate it?! It's a mystery. And one that I would really love to get to the bottom of, because, well, I hate it when my cheese goes missing, to put it mildly. What sort of man-size mouse with opposable thumbs and enough brain power is behind this? Someone explain this to me. I'd love to know.
In other news, there are no news. Except, of course, for the absolutely lovely and wonderful and make-you-cry sweet letter/card that I got from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cabari in the mail today, which really just made my week. You are so wonderful, love. And my sentiment exactly. *mwah*
Today in one of my classes, we somehow got on to the topic of language often defiling the act of making love. (And by 'we' I mean, of course, my professor who tends to go off at random times about even more random topics, with no regard as to what a student may want to say at that moment, and only concerned with his own cleverness. Incidentally, he seems to find my whole persona fascinating for reasons unknown to me, because he spent up to five minutes of today's class saying how I am parenthetical, and refusing to settle into any one mode or culture, having been born in the East, moved to the West and sort of moved back again while I'm here. And I think - and this is the funniest part for me - he wanted to impress me and finds me, um, shrewd. I believe he thinks that behind my "silent demeanor" there hides a great intellect. I'd tell him the truth, but somehow find this image of myself a stroke to my ego and rather appealing. Ha. I've got him fooled.) In any case, he was saying something to the effect of polluting the almost sacred act of love with words is vulgar and crude, and that with less we say more. Now, excuse me.
I have just spent an unnamed number of minutes laboring over a 'discussion', or, more accurately, 'rant' on this, and have not been able to come up with a single coherent argument. They're all in my head, but I can't get them out and it's frustrating the hell out of me (just like my letter to Jamie O'Neill is frustrating the hell out of me, argh). Basically, the gist of what I was going to say was this - sex is not something that SHOULDN'T be talked about - and I don't mean dirty jokes that we hear all over TV, radio and everywhere around us - but really talked about, discussed. Educated on. So many people grow up with the 'knowledge' that sex is sacred - or maybe even frightening - that when it comes time to actually, well, have it, their 'knowledge' is not enough.
Why do all those administration people in high schools, say, bemoan the high number of teenage pregnancies every year? Could it be because all that "Health Class" does is talk about how abstitence is the only answer to this problem? How, if you have sex, a brick will fall on your head and you will die a horrible, painful death, preferably of AIDS? Or could it be because the administration is unwilling to take that scary leap and actually allow students access to free condoms? Why does it embarrass people to SHOP for condoms? Why does it embarrass daughters to talk to their mothers about sex, why does it scare and shame then when they finally do have sex?
Sex is a part of life. It can be a great part of life, but not before you're ready for it, right? Well, people still think that being ready for it only comes with age - NOT knowledge. Perhaps WRITING about sex will at least teach people about it, however scarecely. Perhaps not. And perhaps this is a pointless and stupid tirade that never should have seen the light of day.
And perhaps it's been festering for so long that it was going to reek soon. I had to get it out.
Sex is great. Sex is also a major responsbility. Why not actually talk about that responsibility, instead of hiding from it, until 'you're ready'? I'm not saying that a ten year old should be taught all the finer points of 'how it all works, son', but at some point, teenagers become curious. And often, they act on it. Talk about it, or become a grandparent, at best.
That's all.
Hope I didn't anger anyone, but that's how I feel. Moving on.
So, now one tried answering where that last quote was from, but I shall tell you anyway. It was the absolutely brilliant and hysterical "The Ref". If you haven't seen it, by God, why not?!?
And thus ends today's entry because like I mentioned earlier, I'm quite boring. There is nothing of interest going on in my life except for the fact that I have two - count 'em, TWO - essays due next week, both for my philosophy classes, and a presentation to do in my other class on Thursday. I may be scarce for the time being. One may hope, anyway.
I'm afraid that I am just not up to the task of writing these goddamn essays, and that's a fact. Excuse me while I go and wallow in self-pity for a while. (Oh, and read my some smut, while I'm at it.)
Oh! But, ere I go, an announcement:
The absolutely wonderfulsoupytwist has created an "At Swim, Two Boys" community, so if you've read the book, or started it, and would like to discuss, go here, to The Forty Foot and have fun! Oh, but don't read the first entry, because it contains a BIG FAT SPOILER! Heh. Whoohooo, a whole community! Yeah!
(Isn't it funny how something that doesn't get this sort of hype anywhere else can flourish just by word of mouth? And rightly so, because this book is amazing. As one critic said: "James Joyce and Oscar Wilde have finally had a child, and his name is Jamie O'Neill." Damn right, they have!)
Ah, and what cheer...eh?
So. I think I fucked up royally. When I was here last night, I was listening to one of the CD's Robin lent me, like I normally do. And I'm normally very good at PUTTING IT BACK IN ITS CASE before leaving. However, yesterday, three people showed up and dragged me away to a pub (not that I was complaining, you see, and that pint went down rather nicely while discussion of death and childhood prevailed), but now I can't find the fucking CD. P.J. Harvey. To Bring You My Love. I cannot find THAT CD! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?!?! I am SUCH a fucking ASSHOLE! I think I've lost Robin's CD - and that's just...ARGH! ARGH, I tell you! God, I really hate myself sometimes, because no matter how hard I try not to, I always, sooner or later, end up doing shit like this, and just...ugh. No wonder my family doesn't take me seriously. Fucking hell.
Anyway. So, The Suspected Cheese Thief turned out to be a non-thief, because HIS cheese has gone missing, as well. WTF? Why is this person, whoever the fuck he or she is, targetting cheese products?! Cheese, dip, cream cheese... And the most important question is this - WHERE does it all go?! I mean, a girl had her entire, newly-bought block of cheese stolen - who the fuck would eat cheese so quickly that they don't need to refrigerate it?! It's a mystery. And one that I would really love to get to the bottom of, because, well, I hate it when my cheese goes missing, to put it mildly. What sort of man-size mouse with opposable thumbs and enough brain power is behind this? Someone explain this to me. I'd love to know.
In other news, there are no news. Except, of course, for the absolutely lovely and wonderful and make-you-cry sweet letter/card that I got from
cabari in the mail today, which really just made my week. You are so wonderful, love. And my sentiment exactly. *mwah* Today in one of my classes, we somehow got on to the topic of language often defiling the act of making love. (And by 'we' I mean, of course, my professor who tends to go off at random times about even more random topics, with no regard as to what a student may want to say at that moment, and only concerned with his own cleverness. Incidentally, he seems to find my whole persona fascinating for reasons unknown to me, because he spent up to five minutes of today's class saying how I am parenthetical, and refusing to settle into any one mode or culture, having been born in the East, moved to the West and sort of moved back again while I'm here. And I think - and this is the funniest part for me - he wanted to impress me and finds me, um, shrewd. I believe he thinks that behind my "silent demeanor" there hides a great intellect. I'd tell him the truth, but somehow find this image of myself a stroke to my ego and rather appealing. Ha. I've got him fooled.) In any case, he was saying something to the effect of polluting the almost sacred act of love with words is vulgar and crude, and that with less we say more. Now, excuse me.
I have just spent an unnamed number of minutes laboring over a 'discussion', or, more accurately, 'rant' on this, and have not been able to come up with a single coherent argument. They're all in my head, but I can't get them out and it's frustrating the hell out of me (just like my letter to Jamie O'Neill is frustrating the hell out of me, argh). Basically, the gist of what I was going to say was this - sex is not something that SHOULDN'T be talked about - and I don't mean dirty jokes that we hear all over TV, radio and everywhere around us - but really talked about, discussed. Educated on. So many people grow up with the 'knowledge' that sex is sacred - or maybe even frightening - that when it comes time to actually, well, have it, their 'knowledge' is not enough.
Why do all those administration people in high schools, say, bemoan the high number of teenage pregnancies every year? Could it be because all that "Health Class" does is talk about how abstitence is the only answer to this problem? How, if you have sex, a brick will fall on your head and you will die a horrible, painful death, preferably of AIDS? Or could it be because the administration is unwilling to take that scary leap and actually allow students access to free condoms? Why does it embarrass people to SHOP for condoms? Why does it embarrass daughters to talk to their mothers about sex, why does it scare and shame then when they finally do have sex?
Sex is a part of life. It can be a great part of life, but not before you're ready for it, right? Well, people still think that being ready for it only comes with age - NOT knowledge. Perhaps WRITING about sex will at least teach people about it, however scarecely. Perhaps not. And perhaps this is a pointless and stupid tirade that never should have seen the light of day.
And perhaps it's been festering for so long that it was going to reek soon. I had to get it out.
Sex is great. Sex is also a major responsbility. Why not actually talk about that responsibility, instead of hiding from it, until 'you're ready'? I'm not saying that a ten year old should be taught all the finer points of 'how it all works, son', but at some point, teenagers become curious. And often, they act on it. Talk about it, or become a grandparent, at best.
That's all.
Hope I didn't anger anyone, but that's how I feel. Moving on.
So, now one tried answering where that last quote was from, but I shall tell you anyway. It was the absolutely brilliant and hysterical "The Ref". If you haven't seen it, by God, why not?!?
And thus ends today's entry because like I mentioned earlier, I'm quite boring. There is nothing of interest going on in my life except for the fact that I have two - count 'em, TWO - essays due next week, both for my philosophy classes, and a presentation to do in my other class on Thursday. I may be scarce for the time being. One may hope, anyway.
I'm afraid that I am just not up to the task of writing these goddamn essays, and that's a fact. Excuse me while I go and wallow in self-pity for a while. (Oh, and read my some smut, while I'm at it.)
Oh! But, ere I go, an announcement:
The absolutely wonderful
soupytwist has created an "At Swim, Two Boys" community, so if you've read the book, or started it, and would like to discuss, go here, to The Forty Foot and have fun! Oh, but don't read the first entry, because it contains a BIG FAT SPOILER! Heh. Whoohooo, a whole community! Yeah!(Isn't it funny how something that doesn't get this sort of hype anywhere else can flourish just by word of mouth? And rightly so, because this book is amazing. As one critic said: "James Joyce and Oscar Wilde have finally had a child, and his name is Jamie O'Neill." Damn right, they have!)
Ah, and what cheer...eh?
no subject
Second - You got a letter from Alli today too? Heheh we seem to be making a habit of getting Alligifts at the same time. She ROX.
Third - I thought, when you said your prof who thinks you're awesome didn't want to spoil the sacredness of sex by talking, that he meant talking *during the sex*. LOL. And I agree with you - sex should be talked about. There are things here that needs to be talked about and aren't, because sex is still this issue. Bah.
Fourth - I'm sure you'll do fine with the essays.
Fifth - AWWWWWWWWWWW and 'right on!'
*LOVE*
no subject
no subject
Cheese theif needs to die. It's kinda funny that he's ONLY stealing cheese, though, odd anyway. Heh. You should put a bell on your cheese, or something.
Glad you liked the letter... actually, I'm jsut glad it made it to you. I didn't bother to check postage rates or anything beforehand, just slapped a couple stamps (UGLY bugger on those stamps, eh?) and hoped it worked out. And thank you for the text message. What cheer, eh?
On cheese. Sort of.
(Anonymous) 2003-02-05 03:56 am (UTC)(link)1) Paint indelible red paint around cheese wrapper. You will then be able to spot CT by his/her red hands.
(Drawback: you will have to wear rubber gloves to get cheese out of fridge.)
2) Wrap cheese in clingfilm, then wrap clingfilm several times around one of the bars of fridge shelf. If it's a smash-and-grab raid, as food thefts usually are, this may slow CT down enough to deter them.
(Drawbacks: tiresome; danger of frostbite getting cheese in and out of fridge.)
3) Eat cheese all at once. (Drawback: possibly sickening.)
4) Buy something really vile and label it 'cheese'. (Drawback: they might catch on.)
What a productive post! Not only have I possibly helped you keep your cheese safe, I've just been assailed by several plot bunnies involving Remus, Sirius, clingfilm and rubber gloves. Am off to ponder some more.
Roche
no subject
I know, but...she loves P.J. Harvey. She adores this album. And I went and lost it. It's just...so wrong. *sigh*
I thought, when you said your prof who thinks you're awesome didn't want to spoil the sacredness of sex by talking, that he meant talking *during the sex*. LOL.
Heh. No, no - he was talking about sex in literature mostly. I don't thik even HE could go as far as actually talk about having sex in class. And if he did, I would be highly disturbed.
Fifth - AWWWWWWWWWWW and 'right on!'
*sigh* Old pal o' me heart.
no subject
No, no! Seriously, he was talking about writing about sex and the way it's portrayed in literature - I promise! I do pay attention on class!
Cheese theif needs to die. It's kinda funny that he's ONLY stealing cheese, though, odd anyway. Heh. You should put a bell on your cheese, or something.
LoL, yeah, except the kitchen's too far away. *sigh* However the strategies that Roche listed below are pretty damn amusing and would probably come in handy...
And thank you for the text message. What cheer, eh?
It's grand!
Re: On cheese. Sort of.
Are fantastic. I'm not so sure about the red paint (or the eat it all at once...*shudders*), but the rest of it sounds fairly doable. Heh.
Not only have I possibly helped you keep your cheese safe, I've just been assailed by several plot bunnies involving Remus, Sirius, clingfilm and rubber gloves. Am off to ponder some more.
Be sure to write it all down! Plot bunnies like these don't come along too often. I would love to see the results...sometime next year...
So, Remus, Sirius, cling film and rubber gloves, you say? I think I should ponder that, as well...