Wednesday, 29 April 2009
OK so because I've been complaining about it some of you requested my femnism in contemporary theatre essay.....so here it is:
I warn you know it is not very good for the simple fact I could not say all the things I wanted and the fact I was very tired when I wrote it....if teh grammer doesn't make sense I is sorry
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
Monday, 27 April 2009
I just handed in MY LAST ESSAY OF THE YEAR!!!
Not only did I get to be an angry femnist I also worked Prop 8 into my conclusion...any doubts my tutor had about my being a giant lesbain are clearly shattered...
Also I've passed my screen writting module but my tutor told me I was "Too Gay"...WTF? I'm the right amount of gay thank you very much....
So as I go into the final tech week of this production I am happy
Go team me!
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Sunday, 19 April 2009
"We can exclusively reveal that Eddie Izzard will be joined at Liverpool University by Labour MPs John Prescott and Ed Miliband! He will host a Q&A session, putting your questions to John and Ed, and answering a few questions himself."
We're pretty much just going to oggle Eddie
Good times I better get some questions togather!
Apparently feminism makes you hungry….
I’m a bit of a contradiction to myself because I am a fierce feminist I believe it is the only route in reaching total equality and yet I am the perfect candidate to be someone’s stay at home girlfriend. I love cooking and cleaning, I can sow, I’m good with tools, I can put shelves up straight and I can bake things off the top of my head, from cookies to cakes to scones to pies…I have in-avertedly developed every skill that makes me Susie Home-maker!
Oh the irony of it all….
Anyway the point is it was 9pm and I had been working all day and had a craving for cookies….shops are shut so I decided to bake some…..using my quick n easy technique I developed a new recipe….I used some dried cranberries I had left over and grated some chocolate into the dough and 20 minutes later I had a bakers dozen of tasty tasty cranberry cookies. They are very good even if I say so myself…and best part is the smell of the kitchen is yummy. It does get me that not a lot of students know how to cook simple recipes and how easily impressed they are if you make something from scratch. I remember last year I got bored and baked a chocolate cake with mint icing and my entire flat was stunned….I showed most of them how to make lasagne from scratch and cooked a lot for them, a couple had to use a cook book to make a roast…that gets me. I guess one thing my mum taught me was all the things her grandmother taught her, by getting a feel for food, getting stuck in judging things by texture and smell, not just sticking to what a book says…and then I have my mum’s weird sense of feminism…
She was a right feminist in her day she was the higher wage earner so when I was born my dad stayed at home with me, it was my dad that picked me up and dropped me off from school, and he cooked the dinner and still did after mum retired. I had a weird upbringing my mum had all her feminist ideals but had her religious views that sometime contradicted them. My Dad was a great believer in equality, everyone had a role in our house, he always maintained woman were better suited to running the world and the only time I ever saw him act like an “Alpha male” was if something threatened his family. So I’ve always had that “woman are just as good if not better” attitude and it confuses me when other woman don’t have it, and when people say there’s no need for feminism anymore I get really angry.
There’s one guy on my course in particular that gets my blood boiling whenever we have a debate about feminist theatre he says it is pointless. Whenever we read a play where men are abused he gets up in arms that the female characters are “just as bad as the men which is stupid” ha! Try having men go through thousands of years of oppression then the shoe would be on the other foot. According to him woman have their place and its equal so feminism is redundant because everything’s fine and dandy.
HELLO it’s 2009 and woman STILL don’t get equal pay! Woman are still overlooked when it comes to job security, woman are still top of the crime victim lists, woman are still seen as mothers, wives and whoares by a lot of people and nothing more and the sex industry is still in full swing…now tell me woman are equal…it makes me so angry that woman have been fighting pretty much since the dawn of humanity for their place, and we still haven’t got it….I wish there was a suffragette movement today because I would be in the thick of it, the problem is the majority of woman have to be satisfied or worse don’t care…we’ve lost the will to fight because we’re comfortable.
Man...I need another cookie…
Friday, 17 April 2009
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
and I have that poster.
Just Saying...Debbie Harry is a legand but her image has become a visual aid to ID lesbionic ladies befor they themselves know....
Just watch some British shows and you'll see for yourself!
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
It's really getting to me the amount of male attention I've been getting latly....I don't mean I'm so arrogant I can't abide a man even glancing at me by accident...I mean I'm utterly sick of the WRONG kind of male attention I can't help but attract.
I can't seem to find the right way of putting this but I'll try...
So recently I've been noticing an increasing number of sleazy guys eyeing me up and down and grinning everytime I walk down the street. I've never had any kind of male attention before so the fact men have been looking is bad enough, but what's worse is the abundantly clear looks on their faces that seem to say, "easy prey"....it's disgusting. I'm not saying it's just because guys do it, if a woman looked me the same way, I'd be equally repulsed, it's the expectations behind the looks it's a bit disturbing. I've never classed myself as an attractive girl, because simple fact on fact is that I'm not, so naturally I grew used to the invisibilty that being a "wall flower" type of gal brings. I feel very umcomfortable if someone ANYONE looks at me in a way other than "You're in my way" or "hey can I get to teh bar please?" it's a strange feeling for me to even host the thought someone might find me attractive in the slightest.
But the thing is the guys that stare at me....are in the majority of cases either Turkish or African. I would just like to state right now I have no problem with peoples culture or race this is just what I personally have experianced. I don't know why these men think it's exceptable to stare and make lewd gestures and faces at a woman walking down the street who's minding her own business. I'm a pretty strong person I'm fiercly independant and don't scare easily, but these men do something to me that makes me want to scream, they make me feel vunrable. I was once stalked down the street by some dude in a van that wouldn't leave me alone even when I declared "look asshole I'm gay!", and I'm the type of person who feels like I can protect myself but these men honestly intemidate me and sometimes scare me which in turn makes me angry, The way some men just openly stare at your chest as you walk by it makes me almost ashamed to be a woman...
Now if I was dressing in short skirts, and low tops I might understand some of the attention (even though it'd still be un-exceptible) but the fact is I'm me...I dress in jeans and T-shirts and wear heavy jackets and hoodies! I'm not sexy! I dress for comfort I have to so when I'm starred at like I'm a piece of meat by hungry dogs I feel physically sick.
But the thing is it's not just me in my uncomfortable lesbian skin that feels this way....I have a very good friend who is a bit of a man eater (she says so herself with pride) she likes male attention, she craves it sometimes, but the way THESE type of men look at her make her just as un-comfortable as me. There's something sinister in their stares....
In the clubs it's worse, I am contantly approached even in gay bars by men who think a drunk girl is asking to be date raped. It makes me angry that I can't even feel safe in my own community...the one place of all places that I as a woman, and as a gay woman, should feel at ease.
I'm doing an essay on the need for feminism in contempary socioty....I debated with myself if it was really relevant...I guess it is because it is still hard to walk down the street as a woman KNOWING you're not being looked at as an equal but as a piece of meat that can be bought, consummed and discarded.
I'm more angry at these types of men not as a lesbian but as a woman because as a woman it is my right to be able to walk down a street and feel safe.
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Ok so recently I've started reading "Tipping the Velvet" the all girl drag fest that got a bunch of juices flowing for a bunch o' ladies, but as I've been reading it it got my thinking more and more about drag.
Now it's no secret that I like drag...I've always been dressing up...I used to swap my velvet dresses and Start-rite sandles for my friend Tys jeans and jumpers because I hated dressing like a girl.
Now I dress like a girl...a tomboy but a girl and I still love dressing in drag.
My first offical peformance as a boy came when I was 9 I played a photographer and was done up in a suit and green shirt and cravat I'd shamlessly stole the show. Since then I've always managed to get on stage dressed as a guy some way or another...and I really do love it.
I've been told I'm a rather handsome chap more so than when I'm myself, I make a far prettier boy than a girl. I like being a dude, I get a swagger and a manner like you wouldn't belive, I become so very arrogant and to be honest I like that side of myself. When I'm in drag all the womanly fears about how I look, how I move, and what other people think goes out the window and I wear my sexuality out on my sleave for anyone to grab...so to speak
I don't know what it is about having your boobs bandaged down or a sock in your trousers that makes you feel so very sexual but for me it works. It's like all that energy I'm afraid of when I'm myself, all that shyness and bashfulness I have as a girl evaporates when I'm a boy.
Don't get me wrong I'm not trans (though I though about it when I was younger) I am very much a woman. I think the act of pretending is the very thing that makes drag so appealing, it's all character acting, it's not me that can swagger up to a girl and make her giggle with some silly one liner, it's what ever persona I have chossen to put on that can do that. I kind of envy guys the rawness of their sexuality and seem to borrow it for the hour I have my suit and hair slicked back, there's some kind of secret part of my brain that gets tapped into when I don't look like me that allowes me to be more myself than possible.
And is just me or is there somthing totally hot about a drag king and the fact that under-neath it all there lies a compltely gorgous lady body ready to be ravished?
so I leave you with a picture of myself in drag and let you decide if I'm hotter as a girl or a boy:
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
It’s basically an elaborate obstacle course where random un-fit hyper people run round jumping on polystyrene shapes above 5ft of shallow puddles of brown water, with no regard for health and safety , no real prize and no one ever wins…it is AMAZING and I love it!
However I have since discovered another Japanese show called “Ninja Warrior”
It’s like a slicker version of Takeshi’s Castle except the competitors are healthy, strong, and the obstacles are harder, there IS prize money and ONE person has won.
I don’t know what is both gripping and extremely hilarious about watching Japanese people falling into puddles on rainy days but it’s brilliant. What is perhaps EVEN better than Ninja Warrior?
LADIES OF NINJA WARRIOR!!!
It is my new favourite show….it may be very anti-feminist of me but…I just can’t get enough….
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
I was recently walking down to meet some friends happily going along when I got a text “look behind you”….yerp on of them had spotted me simply by the way I walk. Apparently I bounce when I walk, I blame the fact my feet are 3 sizes bigger than they should be and the men shoes I am forced to purchase as a result, but more recently I’ve been told my walk has changed by friends from back home…That’s right ladies I have (drum roll please) THE LESBIAN SWAGGER!!!
Now as a young whipper snapper of a girl I used to run around and bop about until I was told not to. I always had this slightly clumsy walk because my feet were always a bit too big for my legs but I used to move “to the beat of my own drum” as my mum would say, never really caring if I looked like a weirdo or not. Those were the good ol’ days.
When I was in my teens I used to hunch and shuffle along trying not to be noticed by anyone (not an easy task when you’re 5’10 and the size of a small country) but I developed this scampering, clumsy gait that really didn’t suit me. I kept that walk all through my first year at uni, head down, clutching my books to my chest like a bullet proof vest, apologizing to anyone who brushed past me and trying to blend into the walls. Now not every aspect of my life is ruled by my gayness however I used to walk around like I had a huge and horrid secret, like I was the anti-Christ or something, not that I was this gay lady. So if anyone met my eye I was PETRIFIED they’d some how figure out I was pretending to be something I wasn’t so the shuffle worked. When I finally decided (around 6 months after coming to uni) to come out officially the hunch became even worse until I realised that no one really gave a damn that I was a bundle of gayness, so gradually the hunch started to leave, I started walking around the halls with my head up, started holding doors for people and hears the real kicker….I actually started to look people in the eye and SMILE.
So now I year later I actual have the walk of a slightly concussed rugby player, but at least I’m not getting confused for Quasimodo and I’m definitely not invisible anymore…but I’m not sure I appreciate the fact I’ve now become a spot at 10ft lesbian, a mullet, some new flannel and a pair of cargo shorts and that measurement will increase day by day.
So is that the secret of the lesbian swagger? Being stuck in the closet for 19 years shuffling around with our heads down….then when we break out we’re finally allowed to break out we walk to our own drum….good times….
as for my constant bopping I blame that on my MP3 player and the fact I can't help but bop along
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom
Thursday, 2 April 2009
WARNING THIS IS A BLOG ABOUT ALL THINGS DOWN THERE! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH A SLIGHTLY CHUBBY GEEK TALKING ABOUT THE NASTY RUN AWAY….NOW!!
Right let’s get down to it…
Masturbation as you know from previous blogs is something I wholeheartedly endorse it and am not afraid to talk about. I am about to reveal some rather random and potentially incriminating secrets and wasn’t going to type these thoughts up but I thought “Sod it” the whole purpose I started this blog was to write about my experience as a young freshly out woman, good or bad, funny or sad….so while this is by no means “a sex blog” it is about me and I’ve tried to remain honest (I am self in the knowledge my mother is completely baffled by our digital microwave never mind a computer)
I bought my first official vibrator when I was 18 and in fact I bought more than one (I know I am full of surprises)...I chickened out of going to “Anne Summer” to actual buy one in person (despite dragging many of my male friends in there to wave testers in their appalled faces, before being banned on several occasions when I was a teenager) I waited till I was moved away from home with free access to the web and had a separate mailing address to my mother With the VAST choice out there I settled on a Rabbit pearl, a little bullet vibe and a random remote controlled waterproof number. I was giddy waiting for my “discreet” package to arrive, like a kid waiting for their birthday to arrive so they can rip of the wrapper and play. So when I finally got the note from the security lodge telling me to go sign for something I was delighted with myself as I walked knowingly back to my flat with the big, brown package and instantly locked myself in my room to admire my new toys.
I should explain that I was till pretending to be straight and had a peculiar fear I’m sure a few people have had, why couldn’t I have an orgasm? I’d of course had plenty but they were the result of a late night shuffle and a back massager and had only been clitoral and with myself…I’d tried using my own hand but really disliked the sensation of my own hand being there…I figured I needed it to be someone else touching me and making my fireworks. SOMEHOW I’d managed to get myself a Boyfriend the summer before I went off to university…well boyfriends a loss term…I used to sneak out and we used to go to comic book stores and argue before going to Starbucks then back to his to “watch” DVDs….which eventually lead to us semi naked in his room…it was kind of tragic but the best a girl that looks like me could have hoped for. He wasn’t a bad looking bloke, in fact he was quite cute, he had his own flat, a decent job and more importantly he didn’t seem to mind kissing me in public when sober. He was generally a nice guy but did have some genuinely horrible qualities like not acknowledging me to his friends but being all over me when we were alone but on the whole he was an OK guy. The problem was I felt SO uncomfortable and completely turned off when we were getting down to it that it pretty much put me off sex. I mean he was a good kisser and for a straight girl I’m sure he’d have been adequate if not very good in the sack (we never DID IT properly…No I was no lady of the night I was waiting for the right guy…who turned out to be a one night stand who couldn’t keep it up who seduced me when I was drunk and refused to acknowledge anything had happened but tried to make small talk every time he saw me)…ahem…he even had a big chunk of manhood. But Over the 3 months of our sordid affairs where I begrudgingly allowed his erect todger nudge me in places…and
I never came once….not for lack of trying but something else….it worried me that it never once felt good when he was roaming my womanly forest and it panicked me “WHAT IF IT NEVER FELT GOOD! WHAT IF NO ONE CAN MAKE ME COME! THIS MEANS I CAN NEVER HAVE SEX! AHHHHHHHHH! I HATE YOU VAGINA!!” that kind of thing…
I should explain once again that I have not had the best relationship with my Va-je-je…when I was born I had an infected uterus (I see you salivating at the thought) and had a lot of “Down there trouble”…that has cleared up now thanks...ladies please don’t be afraid of my v-hole she’s OK now…right ok what is my reason for rambling about mangy stuff…well from the ages of 4-6 I had these hideous sharp cream tampon like things stuffed up the valley and lemme tell you those suckers HURT like hell and the nurse shoving ‘em into me wasn’t the nicest. So I guess my poor old lady was associated with pain for quite a long time….but I am rambling about nothing…I guess my point is I didn’t like things being stuffed into me…..
So my first vibrators were my way of saying “ok vagina let’s see if we can do this” because I was sick of all this Freudian fear of penetration stuff I had read about.
Now you’re up to speed with my lady garden and all its problems let’s get back to the point…So back to my dorm room just opened my brown package and was very excited, my rabbit was very pretty and pink and non scary, the bullet vibe was small and simple but the other one was clearly designed from a guys point of view it was hard, and plastic and blue and very non sexy. It took me a while to work up the nerve to actual USE my new toys, I was alone in the flat my housemates all gone home for the weekend, so I pulled it out and tried. I have to admit it disappointed me that I wasn’t writhing in the grasps of pleasure after 10 seconds in fact it was down right painful and I gave up. It wasn’t until after my disastrous one night stand that I got the courage to try again…I forgot trying to imagine some stallion ramming me as “normal” girls had told me had mate it all better…I let myself think about myself and that was enough and this time…OH EM GEE! Possibly the BEST orgasm I’d ever had because of the sweet relief that I COULD tolerate something up my glory space! Slowly I allowed those hidden thought of girls to come into my head and they got better and so I’d finally done it….
Now that was 2 years ago since then I’ve invested in3 new vibrators and have a new love. I ADORE my caterpillar it’s purple, soft fits just right, and the clit stimulator is AWESOME! It’s a very nice little gadget…anyways I have to say being a single girl I am not averse to having some alone time. However lately I have not been enjoying myself at all…it’s become very hollow and an ache for something that simply isn’t there. The sensation is still there and still good but then it vanishes and you stare at the ceiling realising you’re alone, in your bed, listening to Lady GaGa that covers the orgasmic moans of ecstasy and banging coming from next door. It’s brought me close to tears a couple of times because I am tragic and ponder things more than is perhaps good for me. But the problem is there are no kisses, no whispers, no contact what so ever and I miss that, and I’m not an easy person to get close too…I have serious issues with body image but It’s not even that, I’ve had some bad experiences in the past which have deemed me unfit for any kind of human contact by other people…not pleasant…the thing is at this stage of my life I’m simply GAGGING for a relationship…not in a creepy way…well maybe…but I’m ready to attempt an actual human connection because I am more than ready, my fear of intimacy has been shattered. I’ll keep you up to posted but I sense it’s going to be a while before the word “date” or heaven forbid “girlfriend” crops up here.
So what was this journey through my night time roaming around my “flower” about? Why have I told you all this?
I guess I don’t know it’s been part of my self discovery and coming out so thought I’d share.
Cherry Cherry Boom Boom