One of my biggest pet peeve’s are people who stare. I’m sure most people share this pet peeve, but as a woman of multicolour (as in, I have pink hair and lots of tattoos and often wear brightly coloured clothing) I get it more than most people. I am going to assume other people who have lots of tattoos or piercings, unnaturally coloured hair or those just don’t dress like the vast majority of the general public, experience this too. Because we look a little bit different, we capture peoples attention and make them want to look as us. Sometimes it’s because they don’t like it, but I’d say most of the time people are looking at us in awe or with admiration. And both are fine, it’s perfectly natural to want to observe something different or unusual, everybody does it and it’s generally no big deal.
What I hate, are the people who can’t just take a second glance and move on with their lives, but just STARE and even when you catch their eye, they either look away briefly before staring again, or just don’t give a fuck and keep on staring despite the fact they’ve been caught out. I get it a lot more now that I live out in the suburbs and catch a train to and from work every day. The fact I don’t always catch the same trains each day doesn’t help, because I am exposed to a new range of people all the time.
Now, I am not such a whiney bitch to think that no one should stare at me EVER. I accept the fact I look different and it is going to attract some attention and I have developed a remarkable skill where most looks, glances, whisperings or stares go unnoticed by me. I mean, if I noticed every time someone looked at me, I’d be in a state of perpetual stress. I let most of it wash over me and it’s usually my friends or family who notice the stares or whispered comments and get agitated by them. But I do notice them sometimes, especially when they’ve transcended the realm of normal into just plain rude.
I’ve had arguments with people about this, some people think I deserve to be stared at because I chose to have pink hair and get lots of tattoos. In fact some go as far to suggest I want the attention since I look the way I do, and I should be more “normal” if I don’t want people looking at me. Now HOLD ON A MINUTE! I did not get one single tattoo because I wanted to have people look at me. My hair is not pink to freak people out or because I’m an attention whore, but because I love the colour pink and dislike plain coloured hair. While I acknowledged and accept I am not a “normal” looking individual, I am sick to death of being accused to wanting to be stared at all the time just because I am who I am.
Today I had an older lady who happened to be walking behind me on my way through the City running errands, tell me that I had “the most wonderful haircut”. I was extremely flattered and thanked her for her kind words. It’s people like her who help remind me that not everyone who I catch staring at me is judging me or being a jerk. Most of them probably think I have cool hair, or like my tattoos. I just wish people would articulate it instead of just staring, because it’s hard to interpret a stare as anything but negative. If you think I’m worth pointing out to your friend and whispering about, why not come up to me and say “Hi, I love your hair” or “I just wanted to say you have cool tattoos”. I won’t freak out on you, and I’m more than likely to engage you in conversation or at the very least thank you for your nice comment and walk away with a big smile.
So that’s my challenge for everyone who reads my blog. If you see someone who looks super cool or interesting, instead of just staring at them or nudging your friend to take a look, go up to them and tell them! Let them know you think they look awesome, have a cool style or you love their hair. It’s not creepy or weird when you’re genuine and are clearly not trying to pick them up (so probably best not to try this out at a pub while intoxicated). You’ll make their day and in return you will feel great for having spread some positivity!
And MY challenge is to catch the eye of the next person who stares at me and make a funny face at them. It’ll either stop them from staring or make them laugh and both reactions suit me fine :)
About Ruby
My name is Cara (but you can call me Ruby) and I like the colour pink, swearing, fist shaking, daggy dancing and 90s RnB music. Often all at once. I live in Brisbane which is always warm and is famous for its zombies.
I do not have great luck with buying shoes for exercise. My last two pairs have been duds. The Reebok Easytones were useless for anything but walking (something I only do maybe once or twice a week) and the New Balance ones were just…not very good. $200 for shoes that give me sore feet? What a jip! Damn their lovely, bright colours and fancy shoelaces for luring me in!
The best pair of sneakers I ever owened were Puma doscs which I can’t get anywhere, except for online and they cost heaps and are super rare to boot. These were my pair which I still step out in now and then, even 4 years after buying them:
So today I decided I was sick of the balls of my feet hurting after most gym classes in my NB’s so I went looking for some potential new ones. I have a ery strict set of guidelines for shoes, that aren’t necessarily to help my feet or training ability so much as look good. I hate white sneakers, and I especially hate them with shiny silver bits, mesh and small splashes of colour, like these:
UUUUGLY!
I like them to be very colourful or else, black with splashes of really bright colour. I especially like black runners with hot pink, which was really, really in for a while there. But now? Not so much. It’s like there has been a revolt against the sexy black runner with bright coloured accents, and they’ve gone back to white mesh with sensible colours. YUK!
Then there’s the pitiful range of womens shoes to men’s. There would have to be three to four times as many men’s runners to women’s in most sports stores. Oh I’m sorry, did I go back in time to where it was frowned on women to leave the kitchen to do some exercise? And to insult to injury, there are more exciting colour combinations and choices in men’s running shoes than women. Like the rainbow New Balance shoes, I was apparently lucky they released a pair in women’s sizes because they’ve all been men’s ever since which is ludicrous because what man would want to wear these running???
IT’S SO UNFAIR!
The only brand that seems to be making an effort with colourful, interesting ladies runners is Asics but they cost over $200 and after spending $200 on my last pair of New Balance runners which weren’t very good, I’m just not willing to drop that much cash again.
So it’s back to the drawing board for me. Either I spend a tonne of cash for the colours I like, or I compromise for boring-arse runners and pay a reasonable price. It’s just so ridiculous and unfair and SEXIST that I just want to boycott the whole thing altogether. Or maybe fly to the USA where I’m sure I’d be in sneaker heaven!
Do you have trouble finding good/pretty/affordable runners?
Naturally, after a week of not having the internet at home, I am back with a rant. It’s just how I roll.
I have always been very indifferent to Valentines Day. Like most people, I think it’s a bit vulgar to only show your significant other how much you love them by giving them flowers and chocolates on a specified day of the year. I’m all about showing them how much you love them on random days throughout the year, and not just when we’re told to.
But then I wonder if maybe Valentines Day is a good reminder for us to give something to the one we love, remind them that we care when we’re sometimes too busy to show it as often as we should. After all, what’s the harm in giving your love a card or a bunch of roses on Valentines day when you’re doing it out of love?
OK so obviously I am very conflicted about Valentines Day. Maybe it’s just a girl thing where deep down we all want to be spoiled by getting roses sent to us at work, to feel smug in front of our female co-workers who didn’t get anything and to proudly carry the gifts from our beloved on the train home, knowing most of the guys are now riddled with guilt for not getting their lady-friends anything. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to fight it, there are certain, deep-seated feminine things that all women can’t quite resist and Valentines Day is the main culprit.
I was sent an amazing bunch of roses today, which makes it the first time I have ever received a Valentines Day gift. I was mortified at first and tried to hide them, but as workmates spotted the enormous, pink and white roses under my desk, I have to admit I was a little bit thrilled at feeling loved and having attention lavished upon me (I won’t go into who sent them to me as it’s a long and sad story and unfortunately, roses do not fix your problems, no matter how much we wish they did). I felt pretty smug as I carried the roses and accompanying bottle of champagne to the train, but as my arms started to ache and some careless idiots nearly crushed them on the train, I realised it really isn’t for me.
So, why is this a disappointment Tuesday? I guess it’s because it’s been the first V Day that I’ve been single in 5+ years and while I don’t care for the day itself, it’s still a lil bit depressing. I also hate the fact I, as a fist-shaking and loud mouthed feminist, I am still suckered into such a silly day that is really just for flower shops, restaurants and card makers to jack up prices and make some extra profits. I also wish people would show their love for their partner on days other than the obvious (V Day, birthdays, Christmas etc) and shower them with love and buy them small gifts just because. It’s not about spending crazy amounts of money on them, but about seeing something you know they’d love or get a laugh out of and just giving it to them. Or ya know, doing something for them that you wouldn’t normally do, just because you love them.
Hmmm maybe I am just a hopeless romantic who is expecting her knight in shining armour to swoop down and present me with the entire series of Futurama or a 90s dance compilation album that they found for $1 somewhere before calling me the “moon of their life“. What can I say, I can always dream…
Let’s talk about fashion trends that don’t need to come back into fashion. Grunge would be the #1 for me. Because shitty old denim and flannelette shirts was a good look… not. It’s not a big surprise that it’s now “in” because I’ve been appalled at the atrocious 90s fashions that have been re-emerging in the last year or so. Prime example:
Clearly I am not a fan of maroon velvet, particularly of the crushed variety. If there was ever something that needs to stay firmly in our suppressed memories of bad 90s fashion, crushed velvet clothing is among them. Don’t even get me started on the thought of red velvet nerd shoes with lacey white ocks because that’s a rant that you don’t want to hear and I don’t have time to articulate properly.
Grunge was a fashion with a purpose, and bringing it back now for tweens and ditzy 20 year old’s who shop at General Pants Co, Supre and Cotton On pretty much goes against everything the grunge era stood for. But aside from that, it was hideously daggy and it offends my eyes to bear witness to it. Sure, it was cool at the time and compliments a very special era of music that still shapes the sound of alternative rock today. But flannelette shirts? No. Just no.
What I propose is that, since grunge fashion is being inflicted on us all, we also bring back some other classic looks of the 1990s. A few of my favourite examples:
Once again this Disappointment Tuesday post is a day late, for reasons that will be explained in my next post. Please note also, this not much of a disappointment as it has a nice ending. BUT there were a few moments during this ordeal that I thought “FML” and “I’m so blogging about this”.
I got a text from the place where I get waxed about how you can get 50% of all waxing services on Tuesday 17th with the new girl. I was all HELL YES FOR SAVINGS and booked an appointment for a brazilian and eyebrow tidy. The girl I booked it with told me the new girl is experienced but was just learning their techniques and so I should expect the session to take longer than usual. All I heard was YAY CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP though, so she could have said “she’s brand new, you’ll be her first client” for all I cared.
I rocked up to the appointment feeling a small pang of anxiety. What if she waxed my eyebrows off? What if the brazilian went horribly, horribly wrong? But it was fleeting and I knew they wouldn’t do that to me. The new girl was lovely and gave me the usual spiel before leaving me alone to undress and prepare myself. When she returned though, one of the other girls who I’ve had a few times before was with her. I then suddenly realised this was going to be completely supervised, much to my horror.
Just for the record, I admire and respect beauticians who spend all day every day waxing the ugliest parts of peoples bodies to spare us the indignity of having to do it ourselves or resort to the ever-evil practice of shaving. Imagine looking at dozens of vaginas every day? It boggles my mind that this is a profession that women actively seek out. Good on them though, because if I had to wax myself down there, I’d be admitted to hospital shortly after with massive blood loss and suffering panic attacks from the stress of it all. I also feel a certain tension about having someone down there, forcibly tearing out the hairs and then finishing off with the tweezers. I mean, what if they all discuss of our “quirks” down there with each other after we’ve gone? It’s disconcerting having a practical stranger touching you in the most intimate of places, let alone having two of them there at the same time!
I played it cool though, and as both girls were lovely I had a good old chat with them throughout. First off they did my eyebrows which was pretty straight forward and she did a good job and only asked the supervising girl a couple of questions during the 10 minute process. Then they moved on to the brazilian. I was feeling pretty tense by now but they successfully distracted me with chatter so I got through the first half of the wax without any problems. But then she had a lot of questions and even needed some assistance at one point. Let me just say that you do not realise how much hair you have down there until you hear two beauticians standing over your lady parts and pointing out where has been missed and what type of wax will remove it. Looking down and seeing two pretty girls peering at your girl parts while contemplating which wax to use n those stray hairs was just about the most awkward thing I have ever experienced. I felt like they were waxing a gorilla and immediately felt shame that I’d waited an extra week before booking this appointment, like I’d grown some massive rug down there in those few extra days.
Fortunately the ordeal was over fairly quickly and while I felt a brief moment of shame for owing a vagina, I was pleased to see the results were very good. I was also pleased to notice, as I was paying, that they wrote some notes about my appoitnment that said I was a very nice customer and a few comments about how good to wax I am. Awww.
The moral of the story: If you’re super sensitive, do not book an appointment with a trainee beautician, especially if you need to get your hoo-ha waxed. The same applies for haircuts or basically anything that can potentially shatter your self esteem. But if you’re tough, it’s worth it for the savings an knowing that you’ve helped someone get that one step closer to becoming a professional!
Apologies for not posting this on Tuesday but I found myself too exhausted to sit down and write last night! But it’s about an event that occurred on Tuesday so this is where it belongs!
I know it’s the week before Christmas and everything, so going out into the City on my lunch hour and getting bombarded with stupid people and harried shop assistants is to be expected. So when every jerk blocks the escalators in the shops, I will just deal with it and vow to get past them before the next set on the next level. But what I cannot abide by, whether it’s Christmas time or whenever, is shitty customer service. Yes it’s busy, yes there are thousands of idiots converging on the City for their last minute gift purchases, but adequate customer service should exist regardless of the time of year. I’m not asking for back rub’s and a stream of compliments from every employee whose shop I enter, I just feel a basic greeting is the absolute bare minimum of customer service when it comes to retail.
So anyway, I went to Myer as there’s a certain shop I love that has a concession stand in the men’s section (won’t name name’s… yet) because a) I love their stuff and b) because there’s a dress there I’ve told people I want for Christmas and wanted to see if it was still in stock before they headed in themselves. It wasn’t too busy in this part of Myer, but there were a few customers in this particular section, quietly browsing. I quickly note there are two shop assistants for this section, both of whom are folding and putting away clothing and chatting to each other. I figure they will end their conversation soon enough and walk by so I can ask them if the dress is there or not. But no, they seemed to be actively avoiding contact with all customers, not greeting myself or anyone else and definitely not asking if anyone needed some help.
After about 5 minutes I was getting pretty mad, I could see the dress wasn’t there but I found a great skirt and wondered if they had other sizes. But at this point the female employee was too busy describing the ugly underskirt she was wearing to her male co-worker, and upon turning the corner I witnessed her hitching her skirt up and him teasing her about it. The last straw was when they both walked into the middle aisle and kept chatting (this time about some “ugly” shirt of his), so that both myself and another customer couldn’t get through. I gave them a withering look and the girl said “We should probably move and stop blocking the aisle” which was when they finally stopped gasbagging and meekly walked away.
I was so angry by this point, I left, and left the section almost completely deserted as I can only imagine how put out the other customers were too. Not once did either of these so-called retail assistants greet a customer, nor did they ask if anyone would like a hand finding anything, or in fact acknowledge our existence at all aside from a cursory glance now and then (probably to make sure we weren’t stealing anything). Maybe I’m just old fashioned but I just can’t bust in on someone’s conversation, nor do I think I should have to do so in order to get served.
In conclusion, I have emailed them a letter of complaint. I’ve had great customer service there before (I actually bought a dress from that very shop which has featured in my blog before, but again, no names…yet). I don’t expect anything from them, I just hope those two twits get into trouble and they learn the value of good customer service!
Have you had a bad customer service experience this Christmas?
Leaving my phone at work when I have to get up at the arse crack of dawn tomorrow for work is pretty bloody disappointing. So are the numerous calf cramps I experienced while at gym doing Body Attack tonight. Accidentally steeping on dog poop without realising it and smooshing it all through the carpet is also right up there as massively fucking disappointing. But none of these compare to how disappointed this video made me:
I can’t imagine there are too many people out there who don’t find this extremely disappointing also. It’s not just the blatant racism that pisses me off (and believe that, it really pisses me off), it’s knowing that her poor little son has no chance in life. He’s going to be surrounded by that for god knows how long and will more than likely share the same views as his fuckhead mother because that’s what he was brought up with and it’s all he’ll know. I mean, look at how calm the kid is, that’s not a child who’s never heard his mum abuse strangers on the tram before, the poor thing is used to it already. Then there’s the fact she’s clearly on drugs (check out how she’s chewing her face off) and is probably the kind of classy lady to throw her son down to engage in fisticuffs when someone dares retaliate to her horrible rants.
Thankfully there are numerous reports that she’s been arrested. I believe in free speech but inciting hatred, racism and provoking violence (because if I’d been there, it would have been ON) should not be tolerated or allowed. EVER!
How shit are Tuesdays? I mean really, they are just awful ALL the time. I hate Monday’s a lot, because they were clearly only invented to piss everyone off, but to me Tuesdays are just about as bad. I don’t even know why, they just are. And that’s why I hate them. So to celebrate, I am going to post a “This is why my Tuesday sucked…” entry every Tuesday evening. Enjoy!
Fucking pantry moths. Have you ever had them? They are the BANE OF MY LIFE! I have two rice loving maniacs in my house and that’s where these little turds like to hang out tom infiltrate our home. They get EVERYWHERE, including sealed, airtight containers and especially all of my favourite foods. They’ve ruined millions of almonds, multiple boxes of expensive tea, all my baking goods and so on. Tonight I gave in and cleaned the whole pantry again, knowing full well they will be back very, very soon.
Dog poop. I find it amazing how much two small puppies are able to poop out every day.
A Song of Ice & Fire. I am 2/3 of the way through the third book and am obsessed. But I am torn between loving it and hating it right now. I don’t want to give anything away so let me just say George RR Martin is a cruel man who needs to stop killing off undeserving characters! I can’t stop thinking about the characters and wanting to READ UNTIL I DIE. It’s consumed my life completely and utterly.
Lack of sleep. See above.
Christmas! It only just dawned on me this afternoon that it’s almost December. In fact, it’s 1 month and 1 day until my birthday (December 23rd, mark it in your diaries people) and then BAM Christmas all up in your faces! That means only more pays between now and then! Argh I am SCREWED!
New Years Eve. As per the above, it’s almost NYE and I still don’t have plans. The one thing I want to do is too expensive (given that I am going to a music festival on January 2nd and I forgot to budget for any bloody thing again this year) and the other option we have involves a house party and I am just too damn lazy to organise such a thing.
Migraines. I woke up with one on Monday morning and an even worse one this morning. Because that’s a great way to start the working week…
