Why I'm glad my mother called me Fifi-belle

Researching for my PhD, I remembered that I have to think of pseudonyms for my participants. I decided the best way to do this was to look at the lists of popular babies’ names for the year the people were born. Not that there was going to be anyone born in 2006 in my study, but I had a squiz at the 2006 girls’ names list anyway.

I was disturbed. The names ranged from the pretty conventional: Laura Emily, Jessica sort of names to the just completely wrong and strange names. Or maybe the names themselves weren’t too weird, but you just know what primary school will be like for the poor kids. Like Angelina. Nice name, bad celebrity associations. Tia. Great, but she will be called Tia Maria forever.

Jordan. Will the other kids think of the Middle Eastern nation, or she of the giant boobies? Makayla. What the???? Isn’t that meant to be Michaela??? I can understand that maybe the odd bogan floozie would get the spelling wrong, but how have so many people made that mistake? Ditto Georgia (high up the list) and her ‘wrong side of the tracks’ sister, Jorja. Unless Jorja is from a South American family and has a brother called Jorge. And then there’s the Madison/Maddison dilemma.

Mackenzie. How girlie, not. It sounds like a company that would sell clothing in saddleries along with Akubra hats, Drizabones and Blunnies. Charli: makes me think it should be in the middle of a long series of names that starts with Eponee-Ray and has Darlene in there somewhere, along with Tayla, which was mid-way down the list. Joria? I have actually never heard of that name. I hope its ethnic and therefore an actual name, somewhere. Hmmm. Ditto Taya. Wasn’t that the name of the geeky girl in Clueless?

Sienna is so high on the list. Why? Her dress sense isn’t that great guys!
I think the office of Births, Deaths Marriages (and Gender Re-assignment registrations in WA) really needs to have a section where mothers who want to inflict names like Jordan on their kids need to provide a well argued justification, (if this is even possible) and otherwise be politely asked to re-think their decision.

Starting, obviously, by back dating this rule to 1982.

don't laugh at bogans.

Don't laugh at bogans. Not even during the car races in Adelaide city when they are running around everywhere. Do you know that there even is a real place called Bogan Shire?

About Bogan Shire (http://bogan.local-e.nsw.gov.au/about.html)

Bogan Shire, situated in Western New South Wales, has an area of 14,610 square kilometres, equivalent to about 1.8% of the State's land surface. Please click on http://www.nynganarea.visitnsw.com/ for direct access to the Tourism in Bogan Shire NSW gateway for our region and surrounding areas.

So there you go.

boar it up ya

Dear Readers, I have a confession to make. I am oficially more of a bogan than anyone knew.

Do you know that there is not one but two magazines in the Regent Arcade newsagency specialising in wild boar hunting!

Boar it up ya: The most diverse and easy to read pig hunting magazine available in Australia.
Australian Hunters & Their Stories
Win Rifles, Dog Rack Systems, Trackers Systems and lots more...

This magazine is so cool. I am going to subscribe. I don't know what I will read first, the hot chicks posing with pit bulls page, the 'what knife' page, or the article comparing the merits of bull arab crosses versus pit bulls. Maybe I'll read all the stories about billy-bob and Wazza's trip up the territory to hunt pigs in their sick new ute. Or the page where hunters get their little kids to pose with the carcasses of giant enormous dead feral pigs with tusks longer than chopsticks. It's so cool. I'm not just talking mini-bogan little boys with mullets and earrings, I'm talking little blonde girls with pony-tails dressed in pink. Posing next to massive hairy dead pigs.

I don't know if I'll have that much time to read in the future though, I think a lot of my time will be taken up by my new job as a calendar model for 'chicks with guns' a quality publication in need of an underwear model or two.

Jacuzzi Men

The patriarchy is alive and well!
One of the most annoying ways the patriarchy asserts its testosterone fuelled self-appointed authority is at the Burnside swimming pool.
Men, (never, ever once have I seen a woman doing this) seem to think its OK to lounge at the end of the lap lanes and talk about what hardcore swimmers they are (but never actually swim a lap)Meanwhile, the people who actually want to swim laps are kept from getting to the end of the pool by the invisible force field that is the extensive personal space of the jacuzzi men. Its not a bloody jacuzzi alright!
When a woman needs to recover at the end of the pool, she will usually get right to the edge of the lane so other swimmers can comfortably get past.
And I also hate that ugly man with the unkempt beard who thinks its OK to swim a lethargic side stroke and therefore take 15 minutes to swim a lap. In front of me. Loser.

why is it?

Why is it that I will be an absolute nigel no friends for weeks on end, and then get invited to two or three good parties that happen to be on the same night? Since I've been studing and forgotten who most of my friends are, way too many of my Saturday nights are all about me, the dog, an outdated Australian Women's Weekly and an over-full glass of port. Then, when I've decided to change my name to Ethel and start working in a library again, there will be all these events on.

Why is it that my cheap linen pants decided to explode and create an enormous and spectactular hole in them, when I had to walk past a building site this morning?

Why is it that I can't stop myself from using phrases like 'um' and 'you know' when I want to sound all professional?