Thursday, 6 February 2014

Oh you sexist, sexist game...

Just to mention it, this post was written in August 2012. I never actually got around to publishing it, and it's been on my mind enough to not delete it. So here it is for the world to see.
Since it was written, a new console generation and a new Grand Theft Auto game has been released. So far, my criticism of the representation of females are no less true in the newer game, however, and I might write something about that, too, when I get a bit further into it.


____


Sexism in video games has been something of a topic lately.
Well sexism in general I guess, the video game part has been added by the communities on my favourite gaming websites.

Anyway.

I'm glad this issue is being addressed, of course - as a woman I think sexism is a terrible thing since it rarely works to my advantage. As a female "gamer" (let's use this term loosely, as I've only been playing games for a couple of years, stuck to the current generation consoles and haven't had time to play EVERY GAME OUT THERE just yet) I haven't really noticed any sexism in my games. Perhaps this problem is so deeply embedded in society already that I don't even notice being discriminated against, perhaps I'm cute enough to be treated nicely by men and consequently blind to any discriminations against the female sex and so not bringing this view into popular culture, or perhaps my excellent taste in games has shielded me from the sexist displays from game design and communities, but I do not see sexism in games as a big problem.

In fact, the only noticeably sexist game I can point out from my collection right now is Grand Theft Auto IV.

This is why.

While I never completely finished this game, after considerable game time I never reached a point where I could hang out with a female character as a friend. There are several male characters you can phone up to go drinking, have dinner, go bowling or head to a strip club with, but if you should ever wish to do any of these things with a female character, you need to ask her on a date. In other words, it is implied that spending time with a woman is the same as seeing her as a love interest.

Please tell me this isn't true, since I might have to cut all ties with my male friends if it is.
(sorry boys, I'm taken.)

Another thing is, women are seen as quite passive in this game. Early on, your cousin Roman's girl, Mallory, is caught cheating with one of the antagonists. How do you react? You get mad - at him. Her betrayal - or possible motives - isn't even mentioned.
Look, it takes two to tango. Feel free to kill the guy and throw him in the river - he had it coming after all - but to act as if the woman has no responsibility whatsoever? Really?

Now let's consider the named female characters in the game (at least as far as I got). Mallory, Roman's love interest. Michelle, your love interest (for a while, whether you like her or not). Elizabeta, drug dealer who eventually snaps. Kate, love interest. I suppose there's someone's wives, daughters and girlfriends here and there, but that's my point: that's the role of women. We are girlfriends, wives and daughters. We are easily manipulated and suppressed, we do as we're told and don't have the authority or strength to say no. We have no responsibility for our own actions and are not worth a man's time to get to know and hang out with.

Of course, there is also the attitude of the characters, but this is a minor point to me. Yeah, sure, all the talk of nice american titties might be somewhat offensive and discriminating, but a game could easily challenge a view expressed by its characters, and allow them to mature and develop. I felt Saint's Row 2 (of all strange, immature, ridiculously fun games) did this fairly well with its treatment of Shaundi, who seems to always deliver despite your (playable character's) often dismissive attitude towards her.

Please note that I still think GTA IV is a pretty great game. Sure, some checkpoints during missions would have been a MAJOR improvement, and the controls are awful, but it's still great fun, the gritty realism works, and it really is beautiful. Would the game have suffered if you had one or two female un-romanceable potential buddies? Not at all. Would it have made a noticeable difference? Possibly not.

Well hello there! I'm still alive!

Hello there people. 

Once upon a time (about two years ago) I blogged quite regularly. This time last year, I stopped. It wasn't a conscious decision, but as I found a job in January and was learning the ropes, I was too busy elsewhere to really blog much. Then my laptop said night night, bye bye, nice to know you every night at exactly 2am, and .........let...............me..............sleep................five....................more.................minutes................. every time I turned it on (actually more like 45 but no one ever thinks THAT in the morning), and rather than turn the damned thing on I'd spend my internet time on my iPhone. Easy peasy. And so the blogging stopped.

Until now. Well, hopefully - it is my intention to keep going, with the laptop working once again and I'm settled in my job (but keeping my eye open for others, because of upcoming changes to my contract). And there is a whole year to catch up on. So what's happened in the last 9 months?

I'm no longer blonde.

My pretty purple bicycle got stolen, and I replaced it with a fold-up one.

I hate cycling.

The local bus service has pissed me off one too many times, and I refuse to use it under any circumstances.

I now work 5 days a week.

I haven't used my camera in a long, long time.

I still get ID'd when buying age restricted products.

My boyfriend and I are getting on well in our own home. The dust bunnies are, however, winning the war.

My phone no longer does phone calls. 

Friday, 14 June 2013

We're moving!

It has finally happened - my boyfriend turned around to me the other day, saying: "I think it's time for us to move out." I wholeheartedly agreed.

This past year, I've been living with my boyfriend, his parents, two brothers and a cat. They're lovely people, who have welcomed me into their home, which I'm forever grateful for. However, I have missed having my own space. My boyfriend's single bedroom isn't quite what I've imagined.

Now, once my boyfriend is on board with something, things tend to happen fast. This was no exception. We looked at a cottage down the road, decided to go for it, filled in applications, and now we have paid the deposit and first chunk of rent. All of this has been planned and considered for a shorter amount of time than my last curry night with work - in fact, it has only been about a week since we talked about looking for something, and now everything's settled and we get the keys on Monday!

We are super excited (and a little bit scared) about this big step in our relationship. I'm sure living together and sharing responsibility for our home and finances will be a new challenge for us, since we are both quite used to having our disposable income right now, and we know that won't last.

Now, let's keep fingers and toes crossed for this new experience!
And: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Thursday, 11 April 2013

Loving the Denim Trend

 

I don't often follow trends, but this outfit was indeed inspired by one I saw in a fashion magazine recently. The denim jacket is new (from Fat Face), the white denim skirt is an old flea market purchase, and the shoes were from ModCloth about 4 years ago.

Also trying a bright new makeup look with blue smoky eye (mixing mua bright eyeshadow with model's own black), and a No7 coral lipstick.



Go Get A Bra Fitting



Earlier this week, I went to the local shopping centre for a look around the shops. I was taking my time, looking around, and as usual I went into my favourite lingerie shop to have a look around. There is a sale on at the moment, and I was considering to maybe buy a set. Because I love pretty underwear.

There is, however, one little thing that has been bugging me for some time; the fit of my bras seem to vary, some are better than others, but (I thought) I'm between sizes. Because of some awkward fits, I wasn't sure what size to get. So as I walked around, I thought maybe today is the day to be brave and ask about the FREE BRA FITTING that's advertised all over the shop floor (and that any self respecting lingerie shop will offer).

So I did. Girls, if you haven't done this before, do it. Yes, it does involve stripping to your bra, but that's something we've all already done in PE in school and at the doctor's already, right? It's really not too bad. I may only be saying that because the girl assisting me was really lovely, but still.

Measuring me, I came in as a 32B, the size I was wearing. However it didn't fit right, so the girl suggested I tried a C. She went to get one, and mentioned it didn't look big enough but try it on anyway. She came back after I put it on, looked at it, and went out to fetch a D. At this point I was puzzled, to put it mildly. 32D? Really? And I didn't think I had boobs. As that, too, appeared a little to small, the girl asked, seemingly as surprised as I was about the work involved in finding the size of my breasts, if they were real. At 32DD we finally had a fit.

As it turned out, this particular bra had a slightly smaller fit, so the next one I tried on I needed to get a D cup. Seemingly I'm still between sizes.

I can tell you one thing though, when I changed back into the bra I came in, I didn't now how I'd been able to wear that for so long. How did I not know it wasn't supposed to feel like that? How was I not terribly uncomfortable? So much so, in fact, that I went into the bathroom immediately after I had paid for my new underwear to get changed.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

London Daytrip

Instagrammed collage of the day

Last Thursday, my dad and sister were in London, and I came down on the train to see them. Some would say I'm mad. It's something of a train journey, after all! But it's nice to see my family, and who would say no to a nice day in London, so I went. I managed to secure some cheap 1st class train tickets the night before (seriously - the price difference was £3.50), so I had a nice, comfy seat with a big table, loads of space, and free tea, sandwich, crisps and wifi. I also had bought Glamour magazine for the journey, which really isn't half bad for a girlie mag. It actually has some text in it. 

After meeting at London Euston, we got a bus back to their hotel in Kensington, got coffees at Starbucks, and sat around in their hotel room talking for a few hours. Then we headed out, perfectly timed for the London Rush Hour experience, and went to Covent Garden. We had a little walk around, without actually buying anything for once. Did take some photos though. I was using my phone, as I have been pretty much all month, and got my sister to take a couple of pictures of my outfit, as I was feeling pretty stylish in a leather trenchcoat, black wedged boots, and a mod target handbag. You know, since the sixties are once again back in fashion. 

Photo courtesy of my sister, who had her camera with her.
After a quick dinner, I went back on the train. I was too full to accept my complementary sandwich, so instead, I enjoyed a glass of white wine on the journey back, while thinking about how lucky I am to have such a great family, how good it would be to get home, and how much I miss being in London. I think I need a weekend at the moon some time before long, so time to start saving I suppose!

Sunday, 17 February 2013

In Defence of Walking

Look, I'm a walker. I'll walk pretty much everywhere if I can, and anything less than 1 hour is what I consider walking distance. And people tend to think I'm craaaazy. Yeah, maybe I am. But there are reasons.

I like being in control. If I walk, I am in control. I know when to go and when I'll get there, and don't have to depend on anyone else.

I also hate to stand and wait. This is why I can't stand the bus. Standing and waiting is wasting time. Walking might take longer, but because I'm actively in the process of moving, it doesn't feel like that time is wasted.

Not to mention it is time to myself, to listen to music and think. Sometimes it is necessary to be alone and have time with your thoughts. It is essential for creative processes, and it's just nice.

And did I mention exercise? That too.

Thursday, 14 February 2013

14 Days of Love instagram challenge


So here it is, a photo a day!
1. Colour
2. Book
3. Music
4. Time of Day
5. Memory
6. Cookie
7. Possession
8. Hobby
9. Pet
10. Collection
11. Clothing 
12. Movie
13. Quote
14. Yourself

Monday, 11 February 2013

When Life Is Good

Right now, I feel like there's nothing to blog about, simply because things are going alright. I'm not enraged by anything. Not annoyed. Not super excited, either. Things are simply... progressing, steadily, and I'm adjusting to a new role in life, a new purpose, a new identity. I'm doing an instagram challenge, and will represent my new workplace in a pancake race tomorrow. I have prepared by spending an hour today learning to flip pancakes.

Monday, 4 February 2013

A Bloody Issue

I have now spent the last 2 1/2 days in a state of agony. The pain is almost impossible to describe, if I were to have a go it would be like someone is trying to tear my spine in two using brute force and constant pressure. It hurts to walk, stand, bend, sit and lie down. Certain tablets do help, but fail to completely eliminate the pain. Lucky for me, I've had almost a week off work, so most of this could be spent at home, in bed, feeling sorry for myself and wishing I had some ice cream. Next time I may not be as lucky.

So the question is: when are periods going to be recognised as a chronic illness?

So I do realize that for some women it's not really much of an issue at all. At least that's what feminine hygiene product ads would have us believe. But for others, such as myself, that's bullsh*t. Feel confident on your period? Ha. I'd be lucky to feel functional on my periods. I dread the day I'll have to pose as a useful member of society during this time, because I feel so reduced compared to my usual self. Not only am I in pain, I also get terribly depressed, and something in my brain seems to just stop working. I get confused, logic goes out the window, and I feel a strange and disturbing urge to watch romantic comedies and cry.

I don't have time for this nonsense. I now declare myself a man and expect to stop having periods. Or maybe I'm a tree. Yeah. I'm a tree.