Satyrday 19 June 1999

Pic of the day: This night, I dreamt that I was walking home (which, in the dream, was a distance of ca 3 kilometers) wearing a medium light blue cotton skirt. (As I don't have the habit of storing skirts here, I coerced an azure sheet into helping me with this demonstration. As you can see, both I and the sheet are rather uncomfortable with the situation.) In the dream, too, it felt very strange and awkward, though the skirt was wide enough that I could move fairly naturally. I thought people were staring at me whenever I passed someone. I consider taking it off, but walking home in my briefs carrying a skirt would not be a lot more impressive.

Now, in the dream it all ended well. I found near the road a catacomb loaded with magic, and teleported. I woke up quite tired, as I tend to be after I've teleported. (Except once, when I used the Drew Gillmore mode of teleportation.)

I wonder why it feels so intensely awkward for a man to wear skirts, and why it is a total social disgrace, while women happily run around in anything from pink mini-skirts to black suits with ties? I am so old that I remember when women usually wore skirts, whether it was practical and comfortable or not, just because they were women. The young ones were already in jeans, though. Some fundamental attitude shift must have happened, fairly recently before my time. And I don't think "it's the work of the Devil" is a sufficiently detailed explanation. I suspect it is linked to the awareness that men were in power, that men had the money and that men took all the important decisions.

Today, half of our government is women. Female leaders abound (two of my three bosses are women, and a good thing it is too) and quite a bit more women than men get a university degree. But is it still so, that we view anything in skirts primarily as a sex object for males? While people in trousers are not regarded primarily as sex object for women, because women are not supposed to be interested in sex? (Unless, of course, they are paid for it ... in cash, drinks, promotions or house & garden).

And now for something entirely different - I think.
You know what would bite? To eat spinach and broccoli, and exercise hard every day, and then get run over by a lorry or some such. Heaven would have to be a truly great place for me not to spend the rest of eternity being very irritated. Now, Heaven probably is great, which I may or may not see for myself later; but just to be sure, I eat my chocolate with unbridled pleasure, and avoid sweating whenever possible. If I have to regret something on my deathbed, it better be something fun.

Now, just because I don't work out does not mean I'm a total couch potato (or potatoe, for my American readers). A car-free lifestyle does provide some fresh air. For instance today, when I went and shopped groceries for the weekend. That's down the hillside, along the road, over the bridge, up another slope, and along to the small friendly village shop, perhaps 15-20 minutes from home. And then back the same way and up the hillside again. It's enough to make a man's heart beat stronger. And that's before you factor in the cute girl pushing her bike up the steep path too.
She was wearing tights, though.

Blasts from my past:
Yesterday
Back to my June page.

I welcome e-mail: itlandm@online.no