Author: Rebecca

The complications of bisexuality

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[Quick title clarification – I’m referring to female bisexuality versus male sexuality in this article]

For the longest time, I knew I was bisexual and I did nothing about that.  I had lots of relationships with men, and was happy for the most part, but avoided getting close to women because they were scary.  I felt I didn’t understand women, that they were complicated, immune to me bossing them about (like I do with men), capricious, generally untrustworthy, and willing to shame me for transgressions against an idea of femininity that I didn’t understand or match.  Most of this, of course, was borne out by my personal experiences with the women I went to high school with, who on the whole were really horrible towards me, mostly because I didn’t fit in as a geek, tom boy, and someone who wasn’t born in the town (Bendigo is an incredibly insular town).   I think I might have gotten over particular subsets of women being horrible to me if it had been confined solely to school and hadn’t continued on the workplace, with several female coworkers and a few female managers acting in the same way.

I slowly cultivated female friends who didn’t play games, were trustworthy, and built me up, but it took a long time, and a lot of hard work on my behalf.  There were a few women I was interested in, but each time I came to the conclusion that those particular were not safe for me, that they’d attempt to manipulate me, shame me, be capricious, or betray my trust – either through things they’d say or the way they’d act in relation to me or other people.

For the longest time, women were far too scary to be in relationships with.  I developed a method of testing the waters (with everyone, not just women) to see if people were safe.  I stopped having secrets (well mostly – there are some things that I tell very few people), and I started telling everyone everything that they wanted to hear.  You want to know how I manage three relationships at once, sure, you want to know how much I earn, sure, you want to know my sleep arrangements, sure.  I decided that if I didn’t have any secrets then it’d be a lot harder for others to attempt to shame me or manipulate me with information because it was all out in the open.  It then became a case of who judged me or acted poorly towards me (or others).

I say all this because I know that I am not a lone bisexual woman who is or has struggled with all the societal messages that we’re fed about women, and as a result struggle to approach women for fear of back stabbing, shaming or something else.  I’ve met, and am friends with, many bisexual women who are confused about what we’re told about other women, and don’t know where to start in relation to approaching other women.

I cannot actually offer much advice, sadly.  There are many women out there that I am incredibly cautious of.  I’ve slowly gathered a close knit group of female friends (mostly also queer) who have demonstrated their trustworthiness, their awesomeness, and I am incredibly blessed to be their friends.  I would never have met my female partner had it not been for my husband talking me up to her and her up to me (he is lovely too), and us being wonderfully compatible.

Does anyone have any good ideas on how to get this to work apart from patience, courage and good judgement?

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Uselessness of prayer

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Let’s assume for the moment that there is an all loving, all knowing, and all present deity.  Let’s also assume, for the moment, that this deity wants the best for everyone that they created, disregarding the fact that each creation has free will, lives on a planet that would as soon as kill you as look at you, and that the free will given to each creation is often used against the creator’s guidelines.

(Let’s think about a world where an all loving, all present, and all knowing deity existed and wanted the best for its creations – we’d never be sick, we’d never die, we’d never be injured, we’d not have disabilities, we’d not age, we’d never be in pain, we’d never be at risk from earthquakes, floods, fires, poisons, carnivorous animals, etc.  We’d be wrapped in swaddling clothes, kept as infants and never know the world.)

But I digress… So there is this deity, and he/she is everywhere, everywhen and loves everyone – even those who do not acknowledge his/her existence, those who’ve done the wrong things, and those who’ve never heard of him/her.  So, this deity wants the best for his/her creations, wants them to be happy and to feel his/her love.  So when this deity hears that one of his/her creations wants something, what does this deity do?  Just to be clear, I’m not talking about a small desire (winning the lottery for example), but a really big need – that their partner not be chronically ill, that their house not be flooded, that their family have not burnt to death in a fire.

Right now, according to most existing beliefs on the planet, gods work in mysterious ways, which is a way of saying that your prayers are as likely to be answered as they are if you pray to me.  Seriously, if any deity existed, floods would be reversed, the dead would be brought back to life now (not eventually some time in the distant future when you’re also dead), earthquakes would be reversed, bushfires would burn out and restore everything to the way it was, injury would be reversed, illnesses reversed, and crops restored.

Surely, if any deity existed, there would be no poor, there would be no natural disasters or “acts of God” (what type of God causes such things anyway?).  Surely if any deity existed, he/she would want to demonstrate their presence (this act of faith thing is yet another scam) by saving those that are at immediate risk of harm or death.  Surely, an all loving, all present, all knowing deity would actually intervene in natural disasters to make sure that people were safe, their property and livelihoods were safe.

Nope, I’m not buying the existence of a deity right now without some actual proof – reverse the floods, bring the dead back to life, heal the sick, and go on bring some world peace while you’re at it.

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Middle Age

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It hit me (briefly) today that I am now officially middle aged.  It should have hit me at my last birthday when I was official middle aged, but these things take time because I rarely reflect on my age as anything other than a near random number.  In a few weeks I turn 36, which also is relatively meaningless to me – I don’t really assign any value to my age so much as my state of mind, capabilities, capacity, fun, happiness and security.

The only reason this has become relevant now is because I have tendinitis in my hips, which makes moving sometimes stiff and difficult (especially if I’ve been sitting cross-legged), and means that most nights I’m waking up in pain from lying on my side (either one).  This was finally diagnosed by a physiotherapist last night, and it can be fixed, but apparently it is a common ailment of middle aged women who have started going to the gym (all boxes I tick – as I don’t tick the ones about being pregnant or carrying young children on my hip). Emedicine has a helpful article which states:

Gluteus Medius Syndrome and Trochanteric Bursitis

The gluteus medius functions as a primary hip abductor. It originates at the external surface of the ilium and inserts onto the posterior lateral surface of the greater trochanter. This muscle is innervated by the superior gluteal nerve (L4-S1).The greater trochanteric bursa lies directly lateral to the greater trochanter. This lateral growth of the femur abuts the tensor fasciae latae and lateral quadriceps muscles. The bursa provides lubrication and cushioning to allow the muscles to flex and extend over the trochanter without damaging the muscles. It also cushions the tendon before the attachment of the gluteus medius and minimus. Bursitis in this area can be secondary to changes in activity or training, biomechanical problems lower down the leg, or from direct trauma. These conditions lead to increased pressure of the muscles against the bursa and trochanter—with resultant inflammation.

Pain will occur with hip flexion such as walking, climbing stairs, or getting out of a car or a chair. Nocturnal pain while lying on the affected side is common. A snap is occasionally felt or heard in the lateral hip with flexion or extension.

Gluteus medius syndrome involves tenderness to palpation of the gluteus medius muscle, which can be triggered by sudden falls, prolonged weight bearing on one extremity for long periods, activity overuse, or sporting injuries. Most commonly, this situation is observed in middle-aged women who have embarked upon a vigorous walking program or who have started working out at a health club. Patients may present with pain that is transient and worsening over a time period, a Trendelenburg gait, and weakness. These symptoms specifically affect runners, as there is tilting of the pelvis with running. It is important for the clinician to examine the patient for a leg-length discrepancy.

Hip-abduction strengthening should be avoided in the initial stages of gluteus medius syndrome because it only provokes tendinitis. As the acute stage resolves, hip-abductor strengthening is important and is best achieved in the aquatic environment.  [emphasis added]

So, no hip flexing, stretches or other such fun things for me until I get better.  Because it is getting worse at the moment, and if I do a Body Balance (my favourite gym class) class and do the hip flexing track, I suffer for it for a few days later.  But at least I know (that and the flare up of an old lower back issue/injury) what is wrong with my body right now and that I can be put back together.  It’s no fun waking up repeatedly during the night while my hips sing a song of agony, trying to find a position to sleep in that is not painful.  So I have around 24 weeks of physio go to through (thankfully I have sufficient money to pay for that), 6 – 12 weeks for my spine and then another 6 – 12 weeks for my hips.  And then… stuff!

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Things I wish I’d learnt as a child

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  • How to be rude to those that deserve it
  • How to be angry
  • How to complain effectively
  • How to negotiate
  • How to bargain/barter
  • How not to be racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, biphobic, ablest (I learnt these far later)
  • That sex wasn’t something to be ashamed of
  • That I should love my body and that I can be healthy at every size
  • How to think critically
  • How to manage personal politics
  • How to budget effectively
  • How to spot abusive behaviour in relationships and how to get out of them
  • How to say no
  • How to be loud
  • How to stand up for myself

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Aliens (redux)

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Ok, so I didn’t end up finishing my post exactly how I hoped, because I left out stuff, so here is the stuff I left out (because I was sleeeepy).

My girlfriend’s reaction to slaters was more along the lines of “ew, gross” than “ARGH, take it away, take it away”.  That said, she grew up in an environment where gardens were enjoyed but not something she had to tend, so the likelihood of her coming across garden critters such as slaters was much reduced than my childhood – where we gardened whether we wanted to or not.  I think that the fact that my household considers slaters to be cute is a socialised thing.  We learnt that they’re harmless and fun to play with (they roll into little balls).  My girlfriend has had no such exposure and it’s a small chitinous thing with lots of legs, which does sound gross.  This is a nice supporting argument for e.smith’s post about likes, dislikes, attractions, and revulsion not being innate.

The second bit that was in my head when I first started thinking about this post, was the narrator’s commentary in Jeff Wayne’s musical of War of the Worlds.  I don’t like the narrator actually… he’s condescending, rude, and acts superior to everyone else in the story, he’s almost unemotional, which given his world is being taken over by massive tripod aliens with laser beams is ludicrous.  In both HG Well’s version of War of the Worlds, and in the musical (which is from the same work), the people of the village are curious about the capsule that has fallen from the sky, and initially fear that a man is trapped inside.  Eventually the capsule starts to open:

Next morning, a crowd gathered on the Common, hypnotized by the unscrewing of the cylinder.  Two feet of shining screw projected when, suddenly, the lid fell off! Two luminous disc-like eyes appeared above the rim. A huge, rounded bulk, larger than a bear, rose up slowly, glistening like wet leather. Its lipless mouth quivered and slavered, and snake-like tentacles writhed as the clumsy body heaved and pulsated. A few young men crept closer to the pit. A tall funnel rose, then an invisible ray of heat leapt from man to man and there was a bright glare, as each was instantly turned to fire. Every tree and bush became a mass of flames at the touch of this savage, unearthly Heat Ray. People clawed their way off the Common, and I ran too. I felt I was being toyed with, that when I was on the very verge of safety, this mysterious death would leap after me and strike me down. At last I reached Maybury Hill and in the dim coolness of my home I wrote an account for my newspaper before I sank into a restless, haunted sleep. I awoke to alien sounds of hammering from the pit, and hurried to the railway station to buy the paper. Around me, the daily routine of life – working, eating, sleeping – was continuing serenely as it had for countless years. (from Jeff Wayne’s musical – emphasis added)

So in this story people were curious, so curious they approached the strange object to see what would happen.  When an otherworldly creature came out of the craft, they crept closer again to look.  Only when they were threatened and some killed, did the crowd scatter, but not too far… they resumed their daily activities, despite the fact that several of them had been killed with a laser like device, which to me isn’t even remotely plausible, but in HG Well’s view of the world at that time, it may well have been.  And perhaps it is still now, perhaps if aliens did turn up tomorrow a percentage of the population would continue on as normal, failing to see a threat until it is in their faces (or they are dead), I do know some incredibly oblivious people after all.

So yes… when the aliens eventually arrive, I’ll go and hide until I have proof they’re safe, my husbands will want to watch and see what happens, and there will no doubt be some people saying, “Flying saucers?  Bah… I have things to do.”

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Aliens

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NOTE: SPOILERS!!

I’m reading Octavia Butler’s Lilith’s Brood collection (containing Dawn, Adulthood Rites and Imago), and I’ve been thinking about alienness, specifically how we react to things that are very different to our experience or how we’d actually react if aliens arrived tomorrow.  This post was also partly inspired by e.smith’s post, “I can’t help myself, it’s innate” and by my girlfriend’s reaction to slaters.

A small, multilegged, browny grey, crawling creature with a segmented back and two small front antennae
A slater, a small, multi legged, browny grey, crawling creature with a segmented back and two small front antennae. Photo credit: Joe Buckingham*

So, after reading Dawn, I thought about whether or not I’d be repulsed by aliens or scared by them, and I thought about all the science fiction I’ve watched and over the years, and all the weird and wonderful creatures I’ve watched on nature documentaries and how I react to seeing something for the first time.  I’ve had conversations with my husbands (yes that is plural and it is not a typo) about what we’d do if spaceships hovered over the city (I’d run to the hills, they’d want to stay and watch).  My initial reaction to new and different things is caution.  If I found a creature that I’d never seen before, I’d watch it before deciding whether or not to touch or interact with it.  I’m not likely to know if a creature is going to sting me, bite me, poison me, spit at me or any other defensive reaction.  In the event of aliens hovering over my city (a la Independence Day – terrible movie, but fits this scenario well), I’m going to want to wait and watch and see if I’m likely to be harmed before approaching something new… so in that way, I understand Lilith’s reaction to the aliens, though without the corresponding fear – mostly because I haven’t experienced a true level of alienness.

And I wonder, does the fact that I have been exposed to science fiction since I was old enough to start remembering TV (Dr Who to begin with), mean that my reaction to an alien, if I ever come across one, is going to be different to someone who hasn’t been exposed to as much science and speculative fiction.  In most SF, aliens are taken as given, and it’s rare that a human panics when they first come across one, and they’re either on the side of humans or against them – depending on which story is being told.  Will that influence me, make me cautious instead of scared?

It’s an interesting train of thought, and one clearly I’m unlikely to tease out further in my lifetime – what with the current lack of aliens wandering around.  It’s also not something that many current SF writers (that I have read – please provide suggestions below if you know of any others) are addressing currently – that being how humans would react if aliens turned up tomorrow and were not evil.  District 9 put aliens in a slum and otherwise generally ignored them.  Galaxy Quest had a couple of characters faint, but generally the cast of the TV show got on with saving the universe, with help from some fans.  Babylon 5 only briefly touches on earth’s first contact with aliens, specifically the Centari who lied to them about them being distant relatives, but no mention of mass panic.  Many stories have a government or secret organisation out to kill the alien, but everyone else harbours it and keeps it safe.

I’m enjoying Lilith’s Brood, and am most of the way through Iago now.  The ideas and issues identified by Butler in the series are as fresh and current as when she wrote them.  I do recommend the books to anyone who hasn’t yet read them.

*Joe Buckingham’s Flickr link here

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Repulsiveness

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I’d like to be quite clear straight up, I loath Danny Nalliah and especially loath his god (and by that I mean his interpretation of god).  This is a man who claimed that Victoria decriminalising abortion resulted in the Black Saturday bushfires in 2009 that killed 173 people and wounded 414, because he had a dream about fire and brimstone.

Now he’s come out saying that the floods in Queensland, specifically Brisbane, are the result of our former Prime Minister (now Foreign Minister), Kevin Rudd, being mean to Israel (don’t read the comments on that piece unless you’re prepared for a dose of scary).  Apparently asking Israel to to join the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) and open all its nuclear facilities to UN inspectors is mean, and Australia/Queensland/Rudd needed smiting as a result.

I can’t (and even when I was Catholic struggled really hard with this) worship or believe in a god that would happily kill (or make miserable) hundreds or thousands of people because of something that someone else did (or even that they did).  I don’t even get how that makes sense.  I never liked the whole fire and brimstone methods used by some ministers and hate the rhetoric of fear (which is something that Nalliah uses all the time).

That Fleming Gent posted a comment on Nalliah’s press release/blog post/thing and unsurprisingly that comment was not published, because it disagreed with the message that Nalliah was pushing.  PZ Myers also had some good commentary on Nalliah:

Kevin Rudd has been insufficiently zealous in his support for Israel, and Rudd is originally from Queensland, so God is making it rain great buckets in Queensland to send him a message.

It’s a rather opaque message, O Lord, and it seems to be causing far more suffering to other people, rather than Rudd. Wouldn’t it have been far more effective and efficient if, say, the Lord God Almighty made the plumbing in Rudd’s upstairs bathroom overflow? I should think it far more persuasive that something mysterious and ominous was going on if every time Rudd flushed, he ended up with a gusher of feces and urine on his shoes. Taking aim at the whole of Queensland is just a bit sloppy.

I also don’t understand, if god is loving, forgiving and understanding, why ordinary, regular sinners are being punished for their representative’s alleged sins (I refer to Queensland (and bits of NSW and Victoria) for Rudd and Victoria for the decriminalisation of abortion).  That doesn’t make any sense to me, and I’d hope it doesn’t make much sense to those Christians who actually critically think about things.

And then, Nalliah and his “church” took credit for the Brisbane flood not peaking as high as it did, because they prayed for Queensland, filling the gap between Rudd’s actions and god’s wrath… or something.  Seriously, they gathered on the steps of the Victorian Parliament (because they’d get publicity there) and prayed loudly and publicly (you know, something Jesus recommended against):

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. Matthew 6:5 (NIV)

Prayers such as Nalliah’s are great thing, it’s not like you can test them scientifically, and discover whether or not the prayers had any effect (they didn’t), and when things turn out well you can say that your prayers had the right effect, and if things turn out badly, you can say it was clearly god’s will, and that you tried.  It’s a win-win situation and really does nothing for anyone.  It’s not like someone, who claims that god speaks to them, would ever admit that their prayers were not heard.

I honestly would like Nalliah and his Ministry to stop receiving publicity, to go away and be on the fringe where they belong.  I’d love Nalliah to stop being so afraid and infecting others with his fear.  I’d love him to recant his hateful and prideful ways and to be humble and listen to the stories of those he currently considers sinful and learn that there is more than black and white in the world.  I’d love him to actually love, unconditionally as Christians are called to love, and to stop judging as he should really know better.

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Tropics below Capricorn

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[I’d like to state at the very beginning of this post that I am having a small whine.  I, unlike Queenslanders who have been affected by the floods, have a roof over my head and haven’t lost family, friends, belongings, pets, or my house.  If you want to donate to the Queensland flood relief fund go here]

For the past few days, I haven’t been living in Melbourne, well I have, I’ve been living back in the tropics.  The warm nights and warm days, with very high humidity have put me in mind of my time on Christmas Island versus living in Melbourne.  My tiles are covered in condensation, meaning we have towels all over the place, my carpet is damp (and smells of wet sheep or carpet depending on your point of view) and the humidity level inside the house are currently at 98% (only slightly below being immersed in water (this is a joke)).

My back garden (have I mentioned that we’re situated on clay soil?) has taken as much water in as it can, and has flooded into the garage, so for an hour after I returned from the gym we bailed out the back yard, moved stuff that shouldn’t get wet in the garage higher, tried to seal the garage against further inundation, swept excess water from the garage, and then bought cat litter for the poor kittens who don’t want to go to the toilet in a lake.

This La Niña, although successfully having broke the drought for much of Australia, has been incredibly destructive.  My parents have had their property flooded twice, and this time they’ve evacuated because the reservoir upstream from them is above capacity and the Government is concerned about downstream residents.  I’m wondering how many of us want the drought back.

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My favourite colour

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I don’t remember the year it was when I decided I no longer liked pink.  I do remember that it was a definite decision, and that pink was not a colour I should like.  Pink was passé, all the girls liked it, and I did not want to be like anyone else.

I lay back on the trampoline, under the leafy green trees (so it was probably sometime in Spring when being outside in Alice Springs wasn’t a bad move), and pondered what my new favourite colour would be.  I looked at the various greens around me, the greens of the trees, the green of the grass and thought that green was too commonplace to be my favourite colour.  I thought about the browns of the bark on the trees, the tan colour of the sawdust used as mulch and the decaying leaves under the trampoline and again decided that browns were too commonplace to be my favourite colour.  Then I looked up, through the trees and saw the sky.  It was a perfect sky blue, and a colour that was not represented anywhere else, so I decided that was different enough to be my favourite colour, and it became so.

So for a long time sky blue was my favourite colour – which is nice because it is actually a range of blues, from the almost white blue near the sun through to the deep midnight blue of the sky at the end of twilight.  And now it’s a blend of purple and blue, oddly enough a colour I was lucky enough to find in one pair of underpants (which I purchased instantly).

A purple blue
A purple blue

Pretty much the colour just here.  The colour shift started with my decision to make my birth stone (amethyst) my favourite gem stone (at the time it was really difficult to find amethyst jewellery – how things have changed), and I’ve always stayed on the blue side of purple, because pink is not cool.

Looking back it seems a little odd to me that I deliberately went out and chose to be different (though in Alice Springs difference was tolerated unlike Bendigo to which we later moved), though on the other hand, I should thank my parents for bringing me up to rebel, question, be independent and with sufficient confidence to be different (most of the time – the confidence not the being different which was pretty much all the time).

Did you choose your favourite colour or did it just happen?  Does your favourite colour have a story behind it?

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Science Fiction women who kick arse

Feminism 1 Comment

NOTE: This post will be discussing female science fiction characters and their roles.  Therefore they may be spoilers for those who haven’t seen these shows/films.  It will also be discussing violence which may be triggering.

I was thinking today about Kara Thrace, better known as Starbuck, from the remake of Battlestar Galactia (of which I’ve only watched the first season), and the episode Flesh and Bone from season one in which she oversees/participates in the torture of a Cylon spy.  And I was thinking that typically women tend to fill the same gender roles in science fiction as they’re expected to in current day society, and those that don’t tend to be on the receiving end of a lot of hate.

I don’t condone violence, but I know that I’m fully capable of it if I thought that it was required.  I don’t think that torture is actually a way to get information from anyone, but I can understand the desperation that existed in that episode for another woman (the President) to order the Cylon to be tortured.  I do not condone torture in any way, I want to make that REALLY clear.

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