As some of you know I have just survived an entire week without the feminist blogosphere. One of the reasons for this experiment was that my family had a delightful road trip planned. It was what my mother euphemistically calls “bonding time.” I felt like a carbon atom towards the end of the week: small, insignificant and used far too much. The trip had its highs (a wonderful showerhead at a motel we stayed at) and its lows (everything else).
We drove through country downs that dripped with charm in the form of architectural vomit. Old, the Very Old and the New mixed together to form barely effective tourist traps (NB: Old in Australia is 100 years ago). My legs were in a state of constant cramping relieved only by the occasional stop at a generic fast food restaurant. Does anyone else find it strange that once those restaurants have you in their greasy maws they still feel the need to inundate you with propaganda? I’m innocently eating chips so yellow they look green and out of the blue my brain is trampled by at least four different posters proclaiming the superiority of the Big Mac over every other food in creation. How I longed for spray-paint.
Between the towns and fast food restaurants lay sparely grassed country side which featured cows and the occasional stunted tree. I finally got to see the Australian countryside which has inspired so many dog-awful country ballads. If I lived there and attempted to farm such a desolate area I would make bad music too.
It was a fun trip; I really bonded with my family. I would point out the misogyny in song lyrics and be ignored. Heartened by this I would point out the racism in song lyrics and be ignored. Then, for an encore I suggested that a Guy A could be singing about Person X, not Girl B. It was a totally epic family vacation. I think the highlight was having my dad throw hissy fits and having his Giant Baby ego soothed by everyone else in the car. I’m practically doing cartwheels thinking about it all.
The week without the feminist blogosphere? It was awful, depressing and a trial on my sanity. The problem with interacting with sane people for hours is that you expect people in RL to act sane. I’ve never got the hang of RL; hopefully a decent tutorial will come out soon.
I’ve just read through a week worth’s of posts which has made me feel marginally better. I’m going to go gorge myself on Battlestar Galactica and do my best to ignore the pervasive pornification.