Guys get the Girls get to be Sluts

Lights are low, there’s a buzz in your blood and what the next person says to you is hilarious. You laugh and forget what it’s all actually about and suddenly feel like dancing.
Then you see a stranger enter the dance floor, his back straight as if to declare ‘here I am’ to everyone.
“That guy helped Dennis out,” a friend tells you, “with that exam he had to redo. Apparently they went out to celebrate after the test. He’s been with over 50 girls! Man, he’s my hero!”
You feel a prickling interest. 50 girls? How? What’s so special about this guy that he could get 50 girls to scooch out of their undies for him?

Different scenario, same description: lights low, buzz-blood, next-person-hilarity.
A woman enters the dance floor, hips swaying, hair everywhere. You’re breathless because she takes up the dancefloor – she owns that dance floor.
“Katrina brought her along, didn’t she?” one of your friends ask.
“Yeah. She’s been with like 50 guys. Kind of a slut. You can go for it, but watch out, don’t know where it’s been.”
Laugher. You peak at her, intrigued but also, in a strange, demure kind of way that you try to ignore, disgusted.

Why is there such a difference between men and women who have several partners?

I know, I know, you’re thinking “shut up, feminist, I’ve heard this before, I know where you’re going.”
But you don’t, so hear me out.

That guy who’s been with over 50 girls? Yeah. He is a champ. Good for him. That must’ve taken a lot of work – and if it didn’t, more power to ya’.
But why is a girl with the same score not as impressive?
The answer is simple: Continue reading

Western culture and its love affair with prostitutes

These days media flourish with women of different kinds.

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You can make up whatever argument you want but women definitely have a lot more representation these days. I’ve seen a lot of shows with badass women.

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Along with these many kinds of “strong women” – a term flung around so much these days it’s virtually a buzz word – there’s a new uprising for femininity. Continue reading

Pole Progression! Superman

It’s been a long time underway but I finally managed to do a nice Superman – and not take FOREVER to get from angel into it!

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WUPTI! LET’S GO SAVE THE WORLD!

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Ahem, as soon as I get off this thing …

Of course it’ll take a long time before I reach THIS level, if EVER:

I promise to put up more pole related stuff but also to get crackin’ with the chemistry (okay, I promise not to crack anything since the contents will probably be poisonous).

2014: A Year of Firsts

Though I turned 20 in 2014 it was a year that brought on a lot of new things for me. It was the first time I solo traveled.

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I learned to trust my own judgment more and to think critically about the consequences of who I meet and hang out with – and whose couches to sleep on.

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I learned that getting lost can be scary, but good. I learned that sprinting is quite easy when there’s a bus about to leave.

I learned that people can walk in and out of your life and leave an impact without necessarily having to stay there.

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In 2014 I got my first book published. The Time Prisoner has not exploded the market (yet) but it has taught me much and branding it is something I thoroughly look forward to.

The Time Prisoner taught me so much about hard work and editing that I was ready to give the project up for good – accepting everything I’d learned as part of a larger process – when a publisher declared they wanted it.

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It’s also the year of my first boyfriend, which has put me on a rollercoaster of emotions. Things I used to be okay with are suddenly embarrassing and things I never noticed before can make me proud.

This year I started pole gymnastics/dancing/fitness, whatever you want to call it. Despite all of the above pole could be the biggest change in my life.
The trickyness of getting these moves right shows me that I can achieve what I set my heart to – even if it hurts and my thighs beg me not to do a scorpion.

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I’ve never been good at coordination or dancing but so far I’m enjoying everything pole fitness has taught me, particularly to have more faith in my body.

I’m looking forward to 2015 and to claiming the moves, writing the books and discovering the places it has in store for me.

How Much Can We Expect Of Ourselves?

You know how they say the sign of a good chemist is an exploded lab? No? Makes sense, since they don’t say that. Honestly, the only way that would indicate a good chemist is if curiosity implied “good”, and as DeeDee has taught us, as a single factor it doesn’t help much.

A good chemist is sort of like a good chef – they keep their lab clean, know what’s boiling and got their theoretical shit together.

That last part and me? Not so much.

After a series of experiments in the lab, during which we’ve tested compounds to see which elements were in them, we reached the final test:
We’ve been given four clean compounds and no guide as to what to do with them.
Boy, do I wish I’d had more time to wrap my head around this one.

The particularities of what went wrong are not that interesting to a non-chemist. Merely know that I must have appeared lost like a pup in the rain as I let myself be confused by a table overlooking the colors of compounds and dissolution in water and acid– something that would not have happened if I’d been more confident in my own knowledge and remembered that iodate is yellow in acids.

For a moment there it got me down.
Here’s why it shouldn’t, and here’s why you shouldn’t feel down when you’ve got a hard time in your own classes. Continue reading

Fatal Mistakes and Their Subsequent Decisions

How do you fix a fatal mistake? A decision it took months of active searching and years of passive observation to make?
What if that decision was wrong?
What if changing it would put you in a worse position economically, socially and academically? Would you do it?

(WHY is this a duck?!?!?!)

(WHY is this a duck?!?!?!)

Continue reading

The Compound of Me

Am I of glass?
Corrupted glass with cracks caught in its structure?
Porous glass?

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Or am I a diamond? A strong network, one unit.

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Perhaps graphite, stacked in layers that touch but never merge.

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An ion bond, which is happily dissolved given the smallest hope of escape.

An atom bursting with emptiness.
An electron without a partner.

A positive, free energy.

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We Change History For Our Convenience

We like to look back on the past with a self-assured smile and a pat on the back. People were stupid back then, using the word “nigger” and thinking some people were better than others merely for being from a higher “class”.

To underline our own perfection we ignore the blunders of the past and we ignore the fact that they didn’t think of these things as prejudices but merely as the way the world was.
The story of Pippi Longbottoms has been censured due to a story in which Pippi travels to Africa and becomes the leader of some black people – also referred to as “Niggers” in the story.
I’m very sure Astrid Lindgren, the author, didn’t have some grand, white power plan with it. She wanted to have fun with this people she’d merely heard of, much the same way as the Indians in Peter Pan are as stereotypical as stereotypes get. Much like how Tintin treats the Africans in the first Tintin volume.

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Were they racist?
Sure.
But that’s how things were back then. Who are we to change history? And if we did it would only lessen our own victory over previous prejudices. Continue reading