The Shoat Statements

Random musings by the multiple voices inside my head.

I was called:

An apologist: For those of you who don't know, an apologist is a person who argues in defense or in justification of something, such as a doctrine, policy, or institution. Of course, uttered by one who didn't know what pedantic meant, the meaning of an apologist was naturally convoluted to mean "one who argues against something merely for the sake of arguing". Given that this rewriting of English was done by a (senior) English copywriter, I have let him stew in his ignorance. One of these days someone is bound to laugh at him, and then his arrogance will be cut to size.

But onto the main point: the idea that I am someone who argues against something merely for the sake of arguing. I would have found it offensive, had I not found the comment, the notion (and at that moment, the person) laughable. The fact that I disagree with most, or all, of what a person says does not make me an apologist (his definition, not the correct one), but only a rare breed of people who are never afraid to speak their mind. Further, I am happy to retain my (very strong) opinions on almost every subject under the sun, even if it is diametrically opposite to what the rest of society believes. I'm not part of the herd, and never do I wish to be.

The fact that he prefers to name call and not argue the point only shows either a rather weak opinion, an insane amount of arrogance (hand in hand with the need to be always right), or just plain childishness. Call me whatever you want; I am what I am, and I'm damn proud of it. (Also proud that my vocabulary is clearly better than so-called English experts).

I was also called:

A woman who doesn't want to have kids: This comment I found particularly offensive. I've never said I don't want kids. So then, Traditional Male Chauvinist (TMC) must have come to this conclusion on his own, right? Why am I a woman who doesn't want to have kids? Could it be because I'm strong, and not a shrinking violet? Because I have, and want, a career, instead of sitting at home and having my personality defined by my husband and 2.5 kids? Because I live in this century and not the last? Because I take care of my own needs without needing to be babysat by a man? Or maybe it's because I can't (he thinks) cook. Hey, wait, maybe it's because I don't go all gooey-eyed over babies and kids (particularly his).

In short, when a woman is strong, and is just like one of the men, the natural assumption is that she is a lesbian who hates men and doesn't want kids. Personally, I have nothing against either lesbians or women who don't want to have kids. But I find it extremely offensive that merely by being a strong modern woman, I've been squeezed into a stereotype that doesn't fit. At all.

I am a woman who always dreamed of adopting a kid (because love should transcend blood, and there are too many orphans who need love and a family), and where I come from, that falls under the category of wanting to have kids. Will I someday have kids of my own? That depends entirely on finding a willing partner, but clearly it hasn't been ruled out.

In essence TMC offended me more than he could possibly imagine, and my barbs at him will continue till something far bigger distracts me each time I see him.

Morons, the whole lot of them.

The shoulder has been killing me for days. Lift a pencil and there starts the pain. I need to find another job. Again. By the end of the month. Wow, so much time, and in such a happening industry. Joy! I need to find money. Again. Before the end of the month. What else is new? Levi's customer service sucks, as do their stock. Again, nothing new. I can't find a single pair of sandals that I like, so I had to 'settle for' something, just to make sure I wasn't going to end up being a barefoot babe. I ended up settling for sandals with soles so smooth that I managed to slip and fall on a bloody escalator at Crescat. Maybe the other shoulder will give way as well. Client cancelled a campaign. Woo hoo! 22 visuals was art class, I suppose. I dropped my phone. Again. For the 50 zillionth time. Now it switches itself off as it pleases. Not very helpful. People are annoying. Usual story. Had someone walk out on me in mid-conversation. An important conversation; I'm a wall flower, here's my card. Class this evening. Much rather be home, curled up on the couch. Forgot to buy lip balm. Again. Endless calls from mother. I suppose I'll wind up picking up tailoring that isn't ready. Again. What a familiar word, that 'again'. Keeps making an appearance. Again and again. This bloody nauseating heat. When will it rain? Sushi. Unaffordable. Again. Manolo Blahniks, then? Apparently, that too is unaffordable. Hmmmm. $24 for a DVD. Dare I indulge? Money, again. Needed. Again, repeated. Soon the sun will set and this day will end. How many from this list will be repeat telecast tomorrow? Raspberry mousse. Not nearly enough to satisfy me. Tummy ache. Still there. Men with BO walking around my room. Or was that the stink of fakeness? Whichever it is, it smells terrible. He said he'll call on Monday, and it's Tuesday now. Men and their lines. Except it's business. Still. Men and their lines. Honesty is such a lost art these days. Homework. Untouched. Due today. Cut work early and hit the library. Don't want to, but must. Life sucks. Again.

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Be true to your heart, and true to your conscience.

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