Double Standard: Round 2

"[In the 1950's] daughters were instilled with different fears from those visited upon their male siblings. Occasional rhetoric condemned tomboys, but the real anxeity was not loss of sexual identity but loss of sexual control. Society put the burden of sexual purity on the female. Boys were expected to initiate, and the girl was suppose to decide what was appropriate. The boys were suppose to prove they were men, and the girls had to prove they were respectable. This belief was at the heart of the famous double standard."

- Douglas Owram, Born at the Right Time

It's over 50 years later, and this nasty injustice is still deeply engrained in the foundations of gender roles in contemporary society. Perhaps not entirely so cut and dry in terms of direct instruction by parents, teachers, and other authority, double standards of sexuality are still perpetuated to children starting at alarmingly young ages (think "boys play with G.I. Joes, and girls play with Barbie". Heaven forbid if one picks up the other). Although we have a term for it, can understand the inequality, and have "Girl Power" in the form of the Spice Girls, and groups like Destiny's Child hollering "I'm a survivor!" on our radios, we still can't get over or around it.

And when I say we, I mean us girls, because we're the ones getting the short end of the stick on this one. I hate to say it, but newest revelation is not going to make any advances in helping us out. So hold on to your garters girls, because I've discovered that even when you think you're nice and safe in your warm and fuzzy long-term relationship, you're only just beginning.

I've been with my boyfriend for years now, and I've noticed a strong and constant trend - nearly every girl that he knows/is friends with dislikes me, whether she's met me or not. Already, this is grounds for problems. What also doesn't help is that most of my boyfriend's friends are girls. Likewise, most of my friends tend to be guys (for this reason among others, I usually can't stand girls and just get along with guys better. Simply put, guys = less bull.). However there is a huge difference in our friends, as my guy friends have no problem with Justin. In fact, we often all hang out together and they have generally nothing to say but good things about him and our relationship.

My boyfriend gets super jealous and moody when guys call me or I make plans to go out with them. I've made concious efforts to say "hey, babe, let's all go out together", even changing days and times to correspond to his schedule. While he was in Whistler last year with drunk girls coming into his bedroom and mouthing off to me via cell phone at midnight, I was waiting patiently (and faithfully!) for his 5 month trip to end and return him to me. But lets get to the point at hand - my boyfriend knows my guy friends, and pretty well may I add. If he hasn't directly met them, he's heard me tell him pretty much everything there is to know - who he is, where me met, where we chill, what we do, etc. However, my boyfriend often gets calls on his cell phone from "Sarah" or "Nadia" or "Jessica" or God knows who else - girls names I've never heard of. He apparently thinks it's ok for him to say "I'm going out to dinner" and not specify with who or where. When his girlfriends have directly insulted me in front of him for little to no reason other than I exist, he's asked me "why won't you give her a chance?".

This is offically a whole other level of double standard. Perhaps this should be called the relationship double standard - once you think you're out of hot water, you realize you've just crawled into a bigger pot. I don't know about you, but I think I'm done being the wilting flower, and I think it may be time to fight fire with fire. Who's with me??

Running of the Books

For York students, such as myself, tomorrow kicks of the annual week of reading, AKA Reading Week. While many students with more money than brains decide to spend the week flouncing around tropical climates whilst beating their organs relentlessly with alcohol and substances, others actually take the time off to (gasp!) catch up on their readings and quell the anxiety attacks lurking in the cockles of their hearts.

As I'm sure you've already guessed, I'm of the latter group mentioned. Even if I did have the money to go on some sort of spring break vacation (and after four years of university, I still cannot for the life of me figure out how these kids can go on vacations and still afford tuition, books, rent - you know, general survival and the like. I enjoy eating and having a roof over my head, so Mexico just doesn't fit into the equation at the moment), I'd be holed up in my hotel room writing papers and reading material from the 3 classes I've already fallen horribly behind in despite by best efforts. I've quickly discovered that it's very hard to sit in your study and read modernist poetry and pages about the lives of the Babyboom generation when you can just imagine the sun, sand and/or snow (whatever floats your boat) that many of your peers are enjoying at that same moment. So, to somewhat remedy the situation, I booked off an entire weekend (something I haven't enjoyed since the end of August) from my work, and am in the process of planning a somewhat exciting and leisurely weekend. I'm thinking skiing....that's about as far as my overworked mind can get at this point. But I've still got some time. Any ideas anyone?

Happy reading week! And remember: read responsibly.

Drive-By Wisdom

People who know me and know me well are aware that I'm an incredibly firm believer in a higher power and the human subconscious' ability to stay closely connected to that power at all times, regardless of our conscious knowledge of this connection. I believe in fate and reincarnation, and that this life each and everyone of us is living has been planned out to the last detail and that there are no such thing as coincidences, just instances of experience where we are pushed back onto our life path when we deviate, or alternatively, a little vote of confidence that we are doing the right thing when we may be questioning ourselves.

So now that half of you reading this probably think I'm a crazy person (although I've read dozens of books on the subject, and there's just too much solid proof through documented individual human experience alone that I still can't believe there are people out there ignorant enough, and ignorance is what it is, to believe otherwise), I will move on.

Sometimes it's just funny where some of these affirmations come from. The past couple weeks I've been re-evaluating my belief in karma (that "goes-around, comes-around" belief) especially after my purse got stolen (which occurred after nearly a dozen occasions where I've found purses, wallets, and credit cards at my store and immediately called banks and tracked down phone numbers to alert the person who lost it). That mantra "nice guys finish last" has been repeating itself in my head as of late, especially when I see truly nice and kind people taken advantage of over and over again (and of which I can't only blame others, as it's happened to me on occasion where I don't stick up for myself as I should. But that's very rare now - luckily I think that that aspect of my life is on the decline, and good riddance!). Lately in the recent past, there have been occasions where sums of money have presented themselves of which were easily accessible and of which no one would have noticed missing. And if so, could have easily been passed off on someone else who would get a slap on the wrist if nothing else. The temptation was great, especially when the money was coming from a source largely unappreciative of my contributions (we'll just keep the details at that!). After some deliberation, I decided that regardless of all this, and my failing faith in karma, I didn't take the money.

Yesterday when I was at work, I went on cash for a few minutes to take over a girl who needed a break. I was on for less than two minutes when an old man came up with his milk and eggs. Nothing out of the ordinary, and he didn't say much past a "hi, nice day" while I was checking his purchase out. He began to walk away, was half way out of the door, when he came back, looked me in the eyes and said something to the extent of: "Always be a good person. As a good person, you'll be kicked in the teeth time and time again. But you're beautiful and good, and when it comes down to it, you'll be the one who comes out on top." And with that, he simply walked away.

I thought it was strange at the time, but later that night when I was thinking back on it, I realized it was exactly that which I needed to hear. An affirmation of my continued faith in a world gone bad. Now I'm not saying it was an angel sent from God, but I definitely think it wasn't a coincidence. Like I said, I don't believe in coincidences.

Snow Day!!!

I don't mean to scare you, but I believe the apocalypse may be upon us: York University has canceled today's classes, and all is likely to crumble with it. In my four years of attending York, and through many a terrible storm, York has often been the only school (and often institution in general) to keep its doors open and classes running in a hundred mile radias. I am actually afraid to even look outside for fear of nuclear warfare or the 4 horses descending upon us.

So instead I'm going to tuck myself away in my bed and get caught up on the wonderful world of 20th Century Canadian History. If the country exists after today, I figure it will be worthwhile...

Happy snow day!

I'm Taking it Back

I've really gotten into this blogging thing since I started a few months back. It's incredibly liberating to be able to say what I think and feel and not have a scary face in front of mine with an even scarier brain hiding behind that; one of which is going over my words and churning out reactions that I can't possibly know or hear. A blog is one big blank non-judgmental canvas that allows me to operate in full-blown stealth mode: if I can't see you, you're not there. De-lightful!

(No but seriously, I would love if someone commented on my page. If I could evoke some sort of discussion or even make someone's day with my incessant ramblings, I would be happy. Please love me!)

I used to write weekly articles for this website called TOstudent.com, 2 or 3 summers ago. I remember being really stoked when I got picked out of a pool of other would-be journalists for the summer. Only draw-back: it was entirely voluntarily, not a dollar to be made. But I was promised media passes to concerts, restaurants, etc., and it would look bright and shiny in the largely empty volunteer section of my resume. I think I lasted 2 months - after which I hadn't been given a single media pass for any concert, or restaurant, or even a cheap movie on Toonie Tuesdays at the Rainbow Theatre. So I told them to vamoose.

So I found out the site has become Citystudent.com, and they still have my articles listed even though they totally don't deserve them, those slave-driving deceptive bastards. So I'm taking it back.

Here's one of my favourites from my days of being an oh-so-rebellious suburban pop-punk highschooler:

Concert Etiquette – A Collection of Do’s, Don’ts and Pet Peeves for the Common Concert Goer

By Karen Gore

Any fan of any genre of music will most likely agree that concerts are one of the most amazing ways to experience music. A live show offers so much more than your stereo or MP3 player: a decorated venue with expensive sound equipment that delivers ear pounding, body rocking sound. Light and visual effects that take the music to new heights, and of course a crowd of excited, screaming fans that pump pounds of energy into the intense atmosphere that swallows you. Oh, and don’t forget your favourite artist mere metres away belting out your favourite tunes.

A concert is must for any music fan to experience their favourite artist, group or band at a new level. While it is difficult to imagine anything being able to ruin such an incredible experience, the actions of the people who are sharing it right along side you can alter it drastically, even by minor actions. It could be anyone: the stage crew, the security guards, the guy moshing at the front of the crowd, the girl singing a few rows away, or even your best friend standing beside you. It doesn’t take much, but soon you might find that instead of concentrating on the performance, you’re silently plotting revenge on the guy elbowing you in the back, or the people who just pushed their way in front of you.

The following is a short list of common concert etiquette pitfalls and how to avoid them. They’re a compilation of personal experiences, and friend-of-a-friend stories collected over the past few years. If you have ever been to a concert, I guarantee you will have experienced at least a few of these delightful occurrences. Let’s start at the beginning of any concert: standing in line.

1. Budding the Line. This is particularly directed toward general admission shows where there are no seats (i.e. standing room), or no designated seating area indicated on the ticket - so basically, its first come, first served. If you want to be as close to the artist(s) as possible, getting in line up to a few hours early is a great idea. Some fans will stand out in any weather – blistering hot, freezing cold (I’ve stood in line for concerts in -27 Celsius weather for four hours just to get a good spot), rain, snow, earthquake, hurricane, whatever – just to insure they’ll be in a prime spot for the show. Then what happens? You’ll get other fans coming up to the line just as the doors are opening. Often they’ll join their friends in line (personally, I’d tell ‘em to get to the back of the line and wait like everyone else, but that’s just me!), or try and blend into the line hoping no one will notice that they weren’t there before. C’mon! I know this sounds tempting, and might provide some sort of sick pleasure or adrenaline rush that all these suckers were braving the elements for hours while you relaxed somewhere. Just imagine how you would feel if you were in the opposite situation. Karma, baby.

2. Trying to Start Mosh Pits – when the concert hasn’t started. This applies mostly (while, actually entirely), to standing room concerts. It’s particularly bad when a concert is sold out and the venue plays the sardine game – trying to see how many people they can pack into a tiny space. When you’re surrounded on all sides by hundreds of sweaty, excited people, and packed so tightly you can’t move an inch without grabbing a miscellaneous body part of another crowd member, it’s easy for one single person’s movement to affect the whole crowd. Some people seem to think that its fun to start pushing other crowd members and trying to start a semi-mosh pit, while watching a hundred people fall backward into each other. Personally, falling under the feet of a crowd of up to 1000 or 2000 people doesn’t sound like fun to me. Neither does trying to keep my balance while falling onto other sweaty, smelly concert-goers in the process. So cut it out.

3. Pushing Unwilling Crowd Members into Mosh Pits. Speaking of mosh pits, not everyone enjoys them. It’s not that I’m against them at all. In fact, it’s often impossible to resist the urge to mosh when that certain song begins to play. However, some crowd members think that everyone should join them in the pit, or maybe they just get into it a little too much. Whatever it is that drives them, some people just love to push others into the pit. Ok, reality check – some people don’t like to run into other people as hard and fast as they can while kicking and throwing their arms around all recklessly-like. And hey, I don’t blame them! So respect the people at the edge of the pit. Chances are, if they’re not going in on their own, they really don’t want or need your help.

4. Standing in Front of People Shorter Than You. I must admit, this isn’t always avoidable. Everyone at a concert is obviously going to be of various heights, and especially when there are no seats, it’s almost impossible to avoid standing in front of someone who is shorter than you. But coming from a person who’s a mere 5 foot, 3 inches, I’ve seen the worst of it. I’ve had people at least a foot taller than me stand directly in front of me, so that both their head and shoulders manage to encompass the entire stage. It’s not like they don’t know I’m there – many have turned around to speak to their friends or just to have a look at the crowd and are completely aware that half the audience behind them are staring at nothing but their back. The decent thing to do would be to offer the shorter person (or persons) directly behind you a spot in front of you. Hey, news flash - they’re shorter than you! It’s not like they’re going to block your view. So respect others and be aware of those behind you, especially if you’re above average height.

5. Guys Who Take Their Shirt Off. Note: this is BAD. Everyone gets hot and sweaty at concerts, it’s enviable. While it may seem like a great idea to take your shirt off, everyone else around you has to suffer. I don’t think anyone enjoys feeling the sweaty, dripping skin of a fellow fan rubbing up against them. This is especially true when the person can’t avoid the contact – i.e. in a mosh pit or when someone’s body surfing. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget two little words – back acne (or bacne, if you will).

6. Wild/Uncontrolled Hair. This one is directed more toward the girls, although it applies to guys with long hair as well. Not everyone prefers to tie their hair back; however, at a concert where you are just mere centimetres away from your fellow audience member, it’s a must. Hair gets sweaty just as fast as your body does. It gets sticky and clumps together, and becomes a pretty powerful weapon when it whips around as you move. You can imagine how annoying (not to mention disgusting) it would be if someone’s hair constantly hit you in the face, flung sweat at over you, and got stuck to your skin and clothing constantly. This is something easily fixed – put it up! Put it in a ponytail or a bun: it only takes a few seconds and you can save someone a lot of discomfort!

7. Wild Dancing. It’s easy to lose control when you’re favourite band/group/artist is playing a live show for you, but remember – you’re not the only one there. It’s ok to get crazy and jump around; it pumps up the energy of the crowd and lets the performers know you’re having a good time. However, it’s important to make sure you’re not getting into anyone’s “space”, and it’s essential to make sure you’re not hitting them or throwing yourself in front of their face. Flailing arms and elbows are really annoying and can really hurt!

8. Holding up Signs. This is got to be one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to concerts. I hate to say it, but we all know it’s mainly the pre-teen-screaming-frenzy-of-girls that have love affairs with the members of the band, and insist on making a twelve-foot sign that says something along the lines of “I love you ‘insert boyishly-handsome band member here’”. Of course, it will be you that always ends up sitting/standing directly behind the pre-teen-screaming-frenzy, and can’t see a thing for over half the concert. Add into the equation high-pitched screaming, and you’ve got one really distracting situation. It would be a miracle if someone could convince these people that the signs really aren’t necessary, and frankly, it’s very improbable that the band member can even see it in the first place. Or even if they can, I doubt they need it flashed in their face more than once. So what more can I say then JUST DON’T DO IT!

So there it is. My collection of the do’s and don’ts of the concert world. I hope this article has enlightened you and brought to your attention some things you may have never considered in the past. Even if you disagree with some (or even all) of my arguments, I hope my message is clear - because when it boils down to it, respect is the ultimate thing that will make or break an experience. Next time you’re at a concert, take some of the things I mentioned into consideration and I promise you and those around you will have a much better time.

Working for the Weekend - Literally

I'm already irritated enough just turning on my computer today. It's taken well over 10 minutes to get to this page due to the "does-not-compute" ness of my five-year-old computer. And that virus program update that starts up automatically in the "background" so as not to disturb user functions bungs up my computer for about 5 extra minutes so every small click of the mouse is equivalent to an attempt to access the entirety of the Encyclopedia Britannica. Boo. Technology advances too fast for the poor.

I'm becoming ever-more envious of those students who have money fed to them through a tube by their parents, as every weekend I seem to get progressively longer and shittier shifts at work. I've become the antithesis of most students and regular Joes who count down the days till Friday. Friday in my little world is the second most dreaded day of the week, as it means only a few short hours until waking up at some God awful hour, standing on my feet all day, being talked down to and lectured by customers, then going home, eating and sleeping just to do it all again the next day. Oh - and the most dreaded day - Sunday at work, 9 and a half hours of craptacular retail enslavement.

I'm considering quitting by March, leaving myself open for studying and paper writing and all the readings I haven't been able to catch up on. The problem is, I like things. I like to own things. I like to come into my space and see things, feel and touch them, use them and dispose of them as I please. I've recently discovered the sad truth that I truly am the definition of a quote, unquote, Consumer Whore. Sometimes I think I could do something really great and selfless, like convince a friend that life is worth living, or organize a group of people to create a significant reaction felt around the world, cure some sort of disease by accident like the Penicillan men, and still my life would feel empty and unfulfilled if I didn't have tangible processions to prove that I've lived. This seriously conflicts with my desire to get the hell out of the living arrangements I've kept for the last 13 years of my life and out of the unrelenting talons of my mother's control, ideally out of the suburbs altogether. I need to a trip, no where too far or too exotic, just enough to throughly convince me, if only for a few fleeting moments, that this life I live and the conditions that keep me chained in one place no longer exist.

It all comes down to money in the end. The sad truth rears its head once again. And so another weekend from hell begins.

Death of Celebrity

I was shocked, and sadly not-so-shocked a few moments ago when I turned on my computer and logged on to my daily guilty pleasure, pinkisthenewblog.com. The headline for today's post read "No Joke, Heath Ledger is Dead!". At only 28 years old, yet another young and talented celebrity has taken his own life.

What is most sad is what I find in myself - the shock and disbelief lingers no longer than a few minutes. With the announcement of anyone's untimely demise, acceptance should be days, weeks, or even months or years ahead as the natural grief cycle takes its course. Yes, granted we do not know this person personally, but yet anyone's death at such a young age with such a promising life ahead is, and should be, tragic. When it becomes all too commonplace to see and hear "so-and-so has died of a suspected overdose/suicide", especially in the world of celebrity, should we not turn the lens on ourselves??

We as a society idolize the lives of the famous. It's a life of glamour, luxury and pomp, traveling the world and everyone knowing your face and your name. And yet from the golden pedestal, more and more young celebrities fall. I'm beginning to wonder if its our fault for placing too much stress on the famous, disallowing any fault or misjudgment or any amount of privacy. Or for not taking their problems or the warning signs seriously enough. Take Owen Wilson for example. In August, he attempted suicide and survived the ordeal. Since then, gossip magazines have all but forgotten the mishap, yet have followed closely his jetset life and his relationships with various women. Did no one - photographer, writer, editor, or reader - stop to think "wait a minute, what's wrong with this picture? Did this man get the help he requires? Is his head-first dive back into the life of celebrity going to lead him back to a dangerous position? Should we be photographing his sucking face, giving him space, or encouraging him to seek help?"

We can see it plainly enough in characters such as Britney Spears and Amy Winehouse, who are clearly on a warpath to self-destruction and disparately need psychiatric help. And yet all we give them is even more cameras in their faces and a whole lot of money to newspapers and magazines who only profit from such cries for help. The saddest part is those who suffer in silence, such as Heath Ledger who always seemed to have a smile for his fans. Although then again, we'll never understand the plans and purpose we each have for our lives, and so what can any of us do but to try to help and better ourselves, of not for ourselves, at least for the benefit of others.