Andshelaughs · Art · At Issue · Buddhism · Canadian Politics · Christianity · Equal Rights · Equality · Feminism · Feminists · Freedom of Speech · Freedomof Expression · Girls Stuff · Guy Stuff · Human Rights · Islam · Judaism · Life · Living · Meaning of Life · Men's Issues · Photography · Politics · Psychology · Religion · Spirituality · The New Feminism · Women's Issues · Women's Rights · Writing

A Picture Worth A Thousand Words

I thought that this was important enough to share. Sometimes a picture IS worth a thousand words. In this case, it speaks more loudly than words ever could. The article can be read at Post Internazionale.


Economics · Entertainment · Girl Stuff · Health · Life · Men's Issues · Politics · Relationships · Singles · Uncategorized · Women's Issues

Salaries & Men & What Makes Us Bump in the Night


Love money?
Love money? (Photo credit: robjewitt) “Someone asked me why women don’t gamble as much as men do, and I gave the commonsensical reply that we don’t have as much money. That was a true and incomplete answer. In fact, women’s total instinct for gambling is satisfied by marriage.” ~Gloria Steinem~

Ah yes, another Saturday, another edition of my favourite newsrag; The Globe and Mail.

There were two articles in the Globe that caught my attention, the first, in the main section of the Globe, written by columnist Elizabeth Renzetti.   It was about the interview questions put to British female volleyball players as to whether they would wear their bikinis even if it rained.

The second article by Leah Eichler was about the workplace majority of primary breadwinners being women. Trust me and keep reading, I’ll walk you through my thoughts.

Renzetti waxed philosophical about all that is wrong with the question aimed at figuring out just exactly how much taught volleyball playing flesh would be seen during the Olympics. She commented on the hell that society puts us through as women, dictating that we feel guilty and worthless should we not be the photoshopped stick figures that plaster the cover magazines.

Perhaps this dickwad disguised as a reporter needed to know how much tissue to have on hand for his Olympic wank fest. The end of the conversation with the titty-infatuated reporters should have come from the athletes being interviewed, or whomever was vetting those  interviews. I imagine it going something like this; “Who let this wanker in? Next question.” There is nothing more that needs to be said really.

The second article, The Emergence of the Richer Sex, caught my attention because it outlines the increasing percentage of women who are the primary breadwinner in their household. But we knew that already didn’t we gals? After all,for over 15 years, our post-secondary educational institutions have been filled with a majority of female students.

I direct you back to a quote from one of my recent blog entries;

Our modern, western culture has done one hell of a good job of dividing the sisterhood. Once we recognize that, we’ll be a lot better off. I love this quote from Eva Burrows, “We have to be careful in this era of radical feminism, not to emphasize an equality of the sexes that leads women to imitate men to prove their equality. To be equal does not mean you have to be the same. “

As soon as women redefine, “ALL”, we will have it.

I think it was Madonna who said that women don’t get what they want because they don’t ask for it. It’s time to ask for what we want and what we need. Do I want to make more money? Hell yes.Do I want to have hours that allow me to do my work and be a good parent? Of course I do. Do I want special recognition in the way of golf vacations and large bottles of whiskey? Are you kidding me? No way! I want spa trips, champagne, and soft, pedicured feet.

You know what else I want? I want all of us – yes you my fabulous, luscious, juicy, female readers – to find our voice and ask for what we need.

Do I demand fair pay. Absolutely. Do I  carry myself in a way that represents my professional abilities and god-given strengths as a woman as I carry out my job? I try my hardest. Do I need a man who makes more money than me? or a man with more letters than I have behind my name. Hmm? Ummm? Now that’s a good question…

To be honest, that’s stumped me for some time. But in my heart, I know I don’t need those either.  I provide for myself, even though I was raised with some fairytale myth about being taken care of  by my man.

What we don’t need ladies are the men that are competing with the women who are trying to imitate men in their roles and measures of success. That’s just too messed up, and frankly, it’s what created a culture of couples who need therapy to figure out what the hell is going on in their relationships.

In a Shambala Sun article discussing mental illness, Shoken Michael Stone, leader of Centre of Gravity in Toronto says, “Through language, we cast judgment on people, lock them up, treat them, hide them, group them, exclude them…” Through our language we have created feminism, the upper class, the lower-middle-class, working-moms, single-moms, and stay-at-home dads, just to name a few.

What we really are, are people, men and women, trying to re-negotiate our relationships with one another in a post-industrial, gender-annhilated, capitalist workforce.

Ok, enough big words ladies. After all, our big, strapping, love-making gents might not understand. Ah-hem

What I think that all of us women need is someone to nurture our feminine side. Someone who allows us to be cuddly and girly and weird and funny, and all of the wonderful things that we are without feeling weak, without apologizing for being educated, well-employed and just all ’round blazing fabulous. That’s the kind of man who makes us want to bump in the night.

I pondered the two Globe and Mail articles this morning as I lay in my sweet lover’s arms after being woken by kisses. He’s younger, lacks a couple of the letters that follow my name, but boy oh boy, does he ever let me be cuddly, girly, weird and funny. Don’t let anyone tell you who you should be with. Just listen to your heart…AND keep your addresses separate…