A meme of odd factoids
Mar. 18th, 2008 01:40 amBold everything you've done.
Add three of your own.
Ganked from
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
karaokegal
( Cut! )
And I might qualify for #71, but I can't remember that far back....
Mar. 18th, 2008
karaokegal And I might qualify for #71, but I can't remember that far back....
A meme of odd factoids
Mar. 18th, 2008 01:40 amBold everything you've done.
Add three of your own.
Ganked from
karaokegal
( Cut! )
And I might qualify for #71, but I can't remember that far back....
Chick rant
Mar. 18th, 2008 02:05 pmI had the TV on, and there was this commercial that pissed me off in record time.
There's a shot of a woman curled up in misery in the loo, and the announcer's voice booms, "There's a reason they call it The Curse!"
Excuse the fuck out of me, WHAT?!
Have we shifted back fifty years in time, or what, because that kind of attitude is demeaning. I cannot believe that in the 21st century, anyone has the nerve to market such a load of anti-female tripe.
Admittedly, I'm not the demographic they're marketing to---I'm perimenopausal, and am of the frame of mind that Aunt Flo needs to make up her mind whether she's coming or going, because these surprise visits are getting on my nerves---but even when I was, I never approached my monthly cycle with that kind of cringing reluctance. In my day (Yes, I know, that makes me sound ancient, BUT), girls were shown The Filmstrip, which gave sanitized facts about the menstrual process---HOW the egg got itself fertiziled was never explained---and everyone assured us that it was all perfectly normal and natural. I took that at face value, and have had relatively trouble-free periods since 1974. That doesn't mean I wasn't familiar with the sensation of Mother Nature playing ping-pong with my ovaries, but I'd pop an aspirin or two and CARRY ON, DAMN IT!
This kind of marketing strikes me as fostering an unhealthy doctrine. The Curse? An inconvenience, yes, but a blight on one's existance? Puh-lease! Keep this up, and we're going to wind up with a generation of gals who are delicate and sickly---what next, dispensers of smelling salts beside the tampon machines?
In the last fifty years, women have shed the image of the frail female---we've accomplished great things. We're doctors and lawyers, CEOs and astronauts, and by this time next year, we may be President. Let's not allow ourselves to be convinced that a return to Victorian fainting couches is what's needed, because that's patently absurd.
Cursed? I think not!
There's a shot of a woman curled up in misery in the loo, and the announcer's voice booms, "There's a reason they call it The Curse!"
Excuse the fuck out of me, WHAT?!
Have we shifted back fifty years in time, or what, because that kind of attitude is demeaning. I cannot believe that in the 21st century, anyone has the nerve to market such a load of anti-female tripe.
Admittedly, I'm not the demographic they're marketing to---I'm perimenopausal, and am of the frame of mind that Aunt Flo needs to make up her mind whether she's coming or going, because these surprise visits are getting on my nerves---but even when I was, I never approached my monthly cycle with that kind of cringing reluctance. In my day (Yes, I know, that makes me sound ancient, BUT), girls were shown The Filmstrip, which gave sanitized facts about the menstrual process---HOW the egg got itself fertiziled was never explained---and everyone assured us that it was all perfectly normal and natural. I took that at face value, and have had relatively trouble-free periods since 1974. That doesn't mean I wasn't familiar with the sensation of Mother Nature playing ping-pong with my ovaries, but I'd pop an aspirin or two and CARRY ON, DAMN IT!
This kind of marketing strikes me as fostering an unhealthy doctrine. The Curse? An inconvenience, yes, but a blight on one's existance? Puh-lease! Keep this up, and we're going to wind up with a generation of gals who are delicate and sickly---what next, dispensers of smelling salts beside the tampon machines?
In the last fifty years, women have shed the image of the frail female---we've accomplished great things. We're doctors and lawyers, CEOs and astronauts, and by this time next year, we may be President. Let's not allow ourselves to be convinced that a return to Victorian fainting couches is what's needed, because that's patently absurd.
Cursed? I think not!
Chick rant
Mar. 18th, 2008 02:05 pmI had the TV on, and there was this commercial that pissed me off in record time.
There's a shot of a woman curled up in misery in the loo, and the announcer's voice booms, "There's a reason they call it The Curse!"
Excuse the fuck out of me, WHAT?!
Have we shifted back fifty years in time, or what, because that kind of attitude is demeaning. I cannot believe that in the 21st century, anyone has the nerve to market such a load of anti-female tripe.
Admittedly, I'm not the demographic they're marketing to---I'm perimenopausal, and am of the frame of mind that Aunt Flo needs to make up her mind whether she's coming or going, because these surprise visits are getting on my nerves---but even when I was, I never approached my monthly cycle with that kind of cringing reluctance. In my day (Yes, I know, that makes me sound ancient, BUT), girls were shown The Filmstrip, which gave sanitized facts about the menstrual process---HOW the egg got itself fertiziled was never explained---and everyone assured us that it was all perfectly normal and natural. I took that at face value, and have had relatively trouble-free periods since 1974. That doesn't mean I wasn't familiar with the sensation of Mother Nature playing ping-pong with my ovaries, but I'd pop an aspirin or two and CARRY ON, DAMN IT!
This kind of marketing strikes me as fostering an unhealthy doctrine. The Curse? An inconvenience, yes, but a blight on one's existance? Puh-lease! Keep this up, and we're going to wind up with a generation of gals who are delicate and sickly---what next, dispensers of smelling salts beside the tampon machines?
In the last fifty years, women have shed the image of the frail female---we've accomplished great things. We're doctors and lawyers, CEOs and astronauts, and by this time next year, we may be President. Let's not allow ourselves to be convinced that a return to Victorian fainting couches is what's needed, because that's patently absurd.
Cursed? I think not!
There's a shot of a woman curled up in misery in the loo, and the announcer's voice booms, "There's a reason they call it The Curse!"
Excuse the fuck out of me, WHAT?!
Have we shifted back fifty years in time, or what, because that kind of attitude is demeaning. I cannot believe that in the 21st century, anyone has the nerve to market such a load of anti-female tripe.
Admittedly, I'm not the demographic they're marketing to---I'm perimenopausal, and am of the frame of mind that Aunt Flo needs to make up her mind whether she's coming or going, because these surprise visits are getting on my nerves---but even when I was, I never approached my monthly cycle with that kind of cringing reluctance. In my day (Yes, I know, that makes me sound ancient, BUT), girls were shown The Filmstrip, which gave sanitized facts about the menstrual process---HOW the egg got itself fertiziled was never explained---and everyone assured us that it was all perfectly normal and natural. I took that at face value, and have had relatively trouble-free periods since 1974. That doesn't mean I wasn't familiar with the sensation of Mother Nature playing ping-pong with my ovaries, but I'd pop an aspirin or two and CARRY ON, DAMN IT!
This kind of marketing strikes me as fostering an unhealthy doctrine. The Curse? An inconvenience, yes, but a blight on one's existance? Puh-lease! Keep this up, and we're going to wind up with a generation of gals who are delicate and sickly---what next, dispensers of smelling salts beside the tampon machines?
In the last fifty years, women have shed the image of the frail female---we've accomplished great things. We're doctors and lawyers, CEOs and astronauts, and by this time next year, we may be President. Let's not allow ourselves to be convinced that a return to Victorian fainting couches is what's needed, because that's patently absurd.
Cursed? I think not!