Tuesday, October 21, 2008

what? WHAT?

So, after my rant yesterday about the evils of breast cancer marketing, I got my unrelated essay topic for honours.

'Desmoplasia in breast cancer'


Monday, October 20, 2008

Cancer contemplations...

No, don't panic, I don't have cancer. I wouldn't be sitting here calmly blogging if I did.

It's October. That makes it breast cancer awareness month. Which is fine. I have no problem with it.

Actually, that's a lie. I do have a problem with it. Not with people with breast cancer, or people who research it or treat it. I have a problem that it gets so much attention when other cancers and diseases effect a lot of other people, but don't get a whole month of awareness.

Like leukaemia. As far as I'm aware, there is no leukaemia awareness month. There is no brand of tomato sauce, or bottled water, or toilet paper, or biscuit, or god knows what else that I can buy so my $0.50 goes to leukaemia research. At least on a regular basis. And yet, in church on sunday, 4 different people named friends/acquaintences struggling with leukaemia. This is clearly a disease that is still a problem.

Bowel cancer is also a big problem. As is ovarian cancer and cervical cancer (even with the vaccine. That's not going to lower deaths for 10-20 years, at least). What about cystic fibrosis? Or multiple sclerosis? Where are the awareness months for these diseases?

You know what I've decided it must be? Pervert CEOs, etc, who want an excuse to say 'breast' and not be slapped/sacked/sued for sexual harrassment. And while I'm on the subject, just because you're raising funds for breast cancer, it doesn't give you free reign to make offensive advertising. I'm looking at you, Mount Franklin.

It's unfortunate, because I'm so ticked off by the inequality of all this that I'm almost at the point of NOT buying products that have pink ribbons on them. And that's not fair to the sufferers and researchers of breast cancer. It's not their fault that the awareness is so biased.

Damn it feels good to rant. I think ranting is good for the soul, don't you?

Tim Told me To...

Tim told me I have to blog. So I'm blogging. Usually I don't let people boss me around, but he probably has a point.

So. I've been sick. Bronchitis. Not my favourite way to spend the weekend. I'm even more behind at uni, because I only spent 2 and a bit days there last week. I'm getting very frustrated that NOTHING seems to work the way I want it to. People keep telling me that this is how research works. I think, actually, it's just the way my life works. Because nothing ever goes the way I want it to. I'm sure other people experience this. But it does seem sometimes that other people I know always fall on their feet and things go according to plan. Me? Nup. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

BUT I'm making a concerted effort to not think like this and therefore wallow in self pity. Surely there has to be some power in positive thinking, right? And one thing did go my way this morning. My barista clearly had a case of Monday-itis, and accidentally gave me a large coffee instead of a normal sized one. Yay for free upgrades.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

stupid pasty marwong...

Once I got quite offended when my brother called me a 'pasty marwong'. I believe the term hails from his college days and refers to a person who ridiculously fair...although it may or not have originally been a type of fish.

Any who. I realise that I am a useless pasty marwong. And I realise this before because today I had to go through the ordeal of buying makeup. This is something I don't like doing. Because apparently, as well as being a pasty marwong, I sort of also suck at being a girl. But I digress (again). I wanted a particular kind that I had used before, but a few shades lighter as when I used it last time it was for stage, and because I am a pasty marwong my face is barely visible from the glow. Ew.

But here's the kicker. Even the lightest shade is almost too dark for me. What the? I can wear it, but only if I don't put it on too thickly. Crap.

Oh, and the other reason I apparently suck at being a girl is I hate shoe shopping. I really do. Why can't there just be normal shoes in shoe shops, instead of freaking enormous metallic sex-and-the-city gladiator monstrosities that look good on NO ONE? Bah.

Plus, I went to the optometrist to get contact lenses, because despite how awesome glasses are, sometimes they are a little inconvenient and I would like to still be able to see when I'm not wearing them. But apparently I'm one of about 5% of people who has eyes so freaky, they don't stock the lenses I need. Which means I have to go back again. Because, as previously stated, eveything in my life is designed to niggle me. Which, you know, is fine. Things could be so much worse. But it seems I get the niggles that everyone else is meant to get as well as my own...

Hold on. I just used 'niggle' as well as 'marwong'. Clearly, I have been talking to much to my brother...

p.s it would appear that a marwong is a deep sea bream. Why this refers to pasty white people, I have no idea.