A Tale of a Fish and an Elusive Bicycle

Once upon a time, there was a fish. This fish was a great fish - it was smart, friendly, good looking even - as far as fish go that is. This fish came from a big school that included its brothers and sisters (all from the same hundred eggs mom laid) and lots of friends. The fish had done a lot in its short life -- travelled to other reefs, explored a ship wreck and met a lot of other interesting fish along the way. All the fish's friends and family were very proud of the fish, but many wondered something, "why didn't the fish have a bicycle?"

Many of the fish's friends had bicycles. For the most part, they all had very nice bicycles. A fish like our fish - smart and good looking (as far as fish go, that is) shouldn't have any trouble finding a bicycle - a very nice bicycle. The fish had had bicycles in the past - some red, some blue, some big, some small, some fast & some slow. All kinds of bicycles. Some for a long time, while others didn't last as long.

Sometimes the fish fell off the bicycles though and was hurt. A couple times, it took a long time to get better and the crash left scars.

The fish did recover and did get back on other bicycles, though. Slowly, tenatively. But those bicycles just didn't work out. It wasn't the same. And the fish found it was easier and faster to go to other parts of the sea without a bike. The fish could swim better alone.
The fish did miss the way a bicycle felt though - the wind in flowing the fish's scales, the comfort of letting something take you somewhere, the fun times only to be had with a bicycle. So the fish kept looking for a bicycle, but didn't let its hopes get high. The fish didn't mind not having a bicycle that much. And especially if it would slow the fish down.

But people still wondered, I mean fishes should have bicycles. And great fishes like our fish should have great bicycles. Especially as fish got older, they needed a bicycle.

What's a fish to do? The poor fish became confused, thought maybe its just trying to find the perfect bicycle, when it really doesn't exist. Thought maybe it should get the next bicycle it likes even a bit.

Poor fish, it forgot the best part of bicycles. Bicycles are only great when its the right bicycle and those are rare. Less-than-right bicycles aren't great - they might be pretty to look at, but they won't put wind in your scales. They are better to just look at when swimming past. Swimming fast and free, because you don't have a bicycle. That's the other great thing. Fishes are ok without bicycles. Fishes are even great without them. Great fishes without bicycles then become fantastic fishes with the right bicycle.

"And a woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle" U2 lyric

Intimidation

Why are some things or people intimidating?
I've been told I'm intimidating (its true-stop laughing). There are people I find intimidating - I used to think my supervisor was intimidating, until I returned from my fieldwork and felt more on his level. Any last tinges of intimidation fled when I caught him in the library-coffee in hand-trying to finish a paper last minute. For people I think its easy - we're intimidated when someone brings something to the table that we feel we cannot adaquately offer to the situation/relationship. It boils down to competition and comfort. Both have to go together to feel intimidated. I'm not intimidated by a great jazz singer or a great athlete because I wouldn't be competing with them and their talents are for my benefit. But when competition infringes my comfort level - intimidation strikes. Oh sure there's more, like power and stuff but that goes without saying I think.

But what about things? Right now, the left side of my brain (yes he started it all) is intimidated by my literature review. I'm scared of it. I can admit that. An unwritten chapter looms large in my head right now. I have an outline. I've written an condensed version for my proposal. I've read most of what I'm going to review (just the identity stuff left). I shouldn't be intimidated. I have no reason to be. But I am. Its not the blank page I'm thinking of - I've slayed that demon many a time. Its the finished product (or rather, first draft).
Because of this - procrastination assumes mythic proportions. I've done my taxes instead of writing. I've given TA (stats) help and not minded when called "Stats Jen." I've organized and re-organized my pile of Blue Jays Tickets, not actually making game decisions because then the job would be done. And now I'm blogging about why I'm blogging.

So what is it? I"m not competing with my second chapter. Its my baby, it'll be/do what I say (ouch, this won't actually apply to my babies). I have the power (I think). How can something I have yet to create intimidate me? Ideas? Yes, this is me admitting I dont' have all the answers. Save this blog for future reference.

Cartoon Heroines - past & present

I was talking with my landlords (who are expecting #2) about toys and cartoons. Being me, I had a lot to offer on the subject of cartoons. She found it interesting I never had a Barbie in all my childhood. I never wanted one. I had dolls, but they were cool dolls: She-Ra was the favourite & closest to Barbie - only so much tougher. I like to think people who know the woman I've grown to be wouldn't be surprised that I'm more of a She-Ra woman than a Barbie. But I digress (assuming there was a point to digress from).

I was thinking about the Heriones of my childhood- Rainbow Bright, Jem, She-Ra.
First was Rainbow Bright. She was cute, sweet, carefree. She saved Rainbow Land and brought colour to the world. Her Sparkles were the source of her powers and her friends were equally lovable and adorable.

My next female hero was Jem. In Grade 1 I went through a faze where I'd put the 2 ns in my name close together so it kind of looked like Jem. I would sing her songs "What you feel is what you feel" or "Our love makes you beautiful to me." Real crowd pleasers. Jem was in girl-group battle with the Misfits for the top of the pop charts (kind of like Mariah Carey vs. the world). She'd touch her earring and *bam!* she's be transformed into Jem. Her bandmates also transformed into her sidekicks.

Last, but not least, was SheRa. Like the others, a blonde (maybe they're related- or male cartoonists are obsessed with blondes). Twin sister to HeMan, she kicked some serious villain ass. She'd lift her Sword of Protection and she'd become SheRa. Her network of other magical & powerful women helped her defeat her foes.

So what did these cartoon women teach me? Help your friends. Be strong. Be independent. Girl Power baby. Get a cool horse to ride.
Girls are also the evil ones, so look out & be careful who you trust because some women are out to get you. When in doubt pull out your Sparkles/Earring/Sword of Power and you'll transform into someone who can handle the situation. Hmm...so maybe there's some mixed messages.

Somewhere in life my Sword of Protection became rusted and my Sparkles ran out. I lost the backing of my magic Earrings. Sadly, I grew up and magic became to hard to rely on. Now, how am I supposed to battle with all the bad things in life that I need to be strong for? (which are usually not other women).

I purpose a new Cartoon Heroine. Someone very familiar. Someone grown up, feminine, without magic security blankets to see her through. Someone who relies on her wit, charm and smarts (ok - and her sexuality). That's right - Betty Boop. Sure Sure, she's not the smartest technically - but she's street smart. She gets through everything with a smile. She takes the powers of being an independent woman (good and bad) and uses them to her advantage. A woman who has fun throughout life. Ladies, meet your grown up herione.

Why I love life. Even when I don't have one.

A running joke between a few of us (hopefully) graduating grad students goes like this:
"Hey, been rejected (from a PhD position) today?"
"Nope, you?"
"Not today"
"Congratulations!" and there high-fiving & stuff & stuff. Alittle victory in our otherwise bland academic days.

So today the joke goes like this:
"Hey Jen, rejected today?"
"Yup."

And that's the end of that. This is the first time I've ever been rejected from something major in my life. I thought I was doing great stuff here, but I guess not enough...who knows. Honestly, I'm scared. The backup plan is see-through thin. I don't know where I'll live, where to look for a job, how I'll pay the bills. I've never been in this position before. I know I know, I'll be fine. I was sad for awhile. But now I"m ok & I'll tell you why.

I'm sitting at the computer, trying not to show I'm upset. Holding back a little watery-ness. Then my friend Jay comes out of his office with a big smile. I got my Blue Jays Tickets! Yup all 30 of them. They even called me a season ticket holder. They're blue-ish grey, fresh-smelling & lovely. They make a great sound when you run your thumb through them. The set of 10 free tickets show the promise of a great April-May (when I have to use them).

Just when something goes terribly wrong, something else comes along to (at least temporarily) cheer you up. I love life. Hopefully after I graduate I'll have one. Like my Jays tickets, I'm sure something will come along.

Crazy...continued.

3 comments! wow! Even in Thailand I never scored 3 comments.

Yes men and women are all crazy. Some crazier than others. Many with their own unique mix of craziness. I think this is due to 2 things we sexes share: 1) insecurities 2) power lust.

Regarding #1. I know we women usually don't think of men as insecure - and usually we are the ones slapped with the insecurity label. But why else would my inbox be filled with daily spam encouraging me to "impress my wife" "boost male mass muscle" and various other enlargements. Aside from the fact I don't have a wife to impress and lack the testosterone to boost my muscle mass, these products wouldn't exist if there wasn't a market. Face it. We use makeup, they use viagara. We put on nice clothes, they hit the gym. We get a push-up bra, they dig into the sock drawer. And this is all before any sort of physical contact. These men are fragile creatures, I tell ya.

And now for #2. Power. The all-mighty balance, or possibly in balance. Thanks to Margaret Thatcher, Sarah Jessica Parker and others, we women are told we are now modern, confident, independent, powerful women. Men on the other hand are still considered the hunters to our gatherers. Where are we left in the modern dating world? In a power struggle of Cold War proportions. We have obvious ways of getting what we want (yes those, look up). Men also have their ways - they're not as du-I mean- straightforward as we tend to think. What happens when the guy you're dating is suddently busy or unavailable for a few days? You feel the need to check in. He's put the ball in your court without a word. You call him. Match, set, win.

But at the same time men also have to give us our space - realize we aren't wilting flowers (at least not all the time). They have a balancing act to play, at least if they are smart/kind/intelligent enough to realize that and be worth our time. Its not easy balancing this. So what does a man do? Couldn't tell ya. All I know is 'ba-du-du-du-daa...I'm lovin it.'

Categorizing Crazy

Recently I ran across an article that put women into their respective types of crazy. Now for the surprise: I'm not actually against this. Yes its sexist. But face it: many women are crazy for all sorts of reasons - insecurity, low self-esteem, previous hurts, etc etc.

In the interests of equality between the sexes, I suggest the following list of male mania:

1) The Renaissance Man:
Possibly the most annoying man ever. This is the man who claims to know everything, has 2 cents for every conversation, is an artist, an academic, a musician and a world traveller. He's tried everything (that is worth trying, of course) and has an informed opinion on it (that is right, of course). After 30 seconds of conversation you see through the 'trying to be eccentric' outfit and pack of misinformation to realize he's a moron. Potentially making up for other 'deficiencies,' the Renaissance Man plays the only card he has - intelligence, whether he possesses it or not. Women beware, if you actually manage to tolerate a Renaissance Man long enough to date him, his insecurities will show & conservation will soon get boring. But you'll feel smart everytime you talk to him (and not because he's taught you anything).

2) The Nice Guy
Why, but why, is a nice guy crazy, you ask? Well generally a nice guy isn't, but as soon as he starts to believe in the "nice guys finish last myth," they become unstable. They try to accomodate for their niceness, which they now percieve to be a problem. One minute they are trying to show you they have an edge, being more of a bad boy (see other crazies). Then they feel bad about that and overcompensate for it by being - you guessed it - toooo nice. Women want nice, we don't want wishy-washy and second-guessing.

3) The Bad-Boy
Oh the motorcycle, the long hair, the wild side our mothers warned us about. Makes a girl swoon - in her teenage years! Face it, once we're a little older (and potentially wiser and crazier ourselves), we prefer someone who we will not be paying for constantly or who has longer hair than we do. Once the urge for rebellion passes, we like men who shower. Yet the myth remains out of a tragic miscommuniciation. Women want confidence: a man with his own ideas and desires and the where-with-all to express that. Men interpret our attraction to confident men as a sign that we want a bad boy. Trust us: if you mistreat us, we'll leave. If we stay, then you have someone crazier than you on your hands. Best of luck.

4) The Player
Remember the movie the Player? This is the man who knows the rules of the dating game & lives by them. He'll wait 3 days to call you after getting your number or after the last date. He won't consider the situation as exclusive until there is 'a talk.' The advantage: as a woman, we totally know what to expect and if you can play the game better, you can play him. The disadvantage: you don't see the real him forever cause he's too busy pretending to be The Player. Worse - you could find any other kind of Crazy lurking underneath.

Ok this is getting long, so I'll post the rest at a later date. Upon consultation with the hordes of people I"m sure read this.

Resurrecting the Right.

Welcome one, welcome all.

As you probably know, I'm an academic-type. That is, for the whole of my adult existence I've been in school. And yes, the glutton that I am, I've applied to do more school - a PhD. While I enjoy this lifestyle (who wouldn't other than the budget), it lacks creativity and inspiration at times. So my old friend the internet - the friend that entertains me, informs me, sends me viruses - to the rescue! Yes a blog to vent all my creative urges.

According to psych people, the two sides of our brain process information differently. The left side is logical, sequential, rational, analytical, objective and looks at parts. The right is random, intuitive, holistic, synthesizing, subjective and looks at wholes. My life is left-side heavy, creating a sore neck and a need for irrationality.

So what will follow in this blog is irrational, subjective and hopefully entertaining. Again, welcome.