Call me a feminist, but the men out there are freaks.

Am I too bitter? Too cynical?

Sometimes I think I am.

Sometimes I actually worry that I'm too bitter about people and life and I see Miranda Hobbe's cynicism in me.

Has society made me this way (Is this getting too deep? Probably.)?

I once detested Miranda. In fact, I couldn't stand her. But, after a season or two, and once she finally started dressing herself in a manner that didn't make her look frumpy, I began to really enjoy her negative commentary on life.

Yes, despite the fact that I do often try to present myself as being an altogether enthusiastic and positive person, I really do carry a lot of Miranda's pessimism (see my post on public transport for an example of such pessimism in the form of rants).

Phrases such as "of course he did" are some of my favourites; I simply love labelling the general population through a negative mindset.

Am I a bad person?

Actually, maybe we should get to that question in an entirely separate post altogether; that might need some time and thought to process and come to a conclusion.

Saturday night, I had a 21st birthday, so I went along, looking forward to seeing people I hadn't seen in a while. But, when two girls staying in Melbourne for a few months were analysed by the male invitees as to which was the 'hot one', I couldn't help but let my feminist rage take over.

Rage I say.

As I reflect now, I honestly don't remember a lot of what I said to the guy who decided it was okay to call a girl 'the hot one' and thus allude to the fact that the other girl clearly wasn't 'hot'. All I remember is glaring at him angrily, and as he tried explaining himself, saying "No. You can stop. I don't want to hear any more from you."

Needless to say, he shut up.

I realise that sometimes we do generalise people; as mentioned, I love generalising people and categorising them - wow, I'm a bad person.

But, maybe it's just in our nature to label those around us, particularly when we don't know them.

It seems that, once the person knows and is upset by it, that is the moment when you realise there is something not quite right about it.

Is it wrong to categorise people?

If so, my friends and I must be bad people, because, the more I think about it, it seems that we do it all the time.

Perhaps it's just in our nature.

But, maybe there also comes a point when we need to take a look at ourselves and say "No. Stop". If I were the one being compared to my friend, I'd probably be pretty upset too.

But, at the same time, I can't help but think about the way my friends were compared and labelled, and then we labelled the boy who labelled them.

"What an idiot" I'm now thinking to myself.

Men.

Now, there's a paradox for you.

Sarah

Miranda Hobbes: a role model for us all, despite
the haircut and brown lipstick

Back off mate (I ain't your girl)

Now, in other life lessons from Sarah...

It is hard enough navigating the roads of friendly relationships between girls and boys. It's even harder to navigate these roads when the friendship becomes a relationship or a sort-of-relationship or could-be-relationship or there's potential or whatever. But there is something that makes this almighty difficulty an immense challenge, and it has recently come to my attention, and thus I feel the need to address it.

When a friend's boyfriend is a little over-friendly - not in an I'm-interested-in-you kind of way but more I'm-affectionate-and-like-holding-hands way -  I can't help but wonder: what does one do? What would Carrie do?

Probably cheat on her own boyfriend.

Wait.

That escalated.

How?

What?

Anyway.

Let's leave Carrie out of this.

This issue has come to my attention through a number of sources who have each expressed the woes of over-friendly-boyfriends-who-aren't-actually-their-boyfriends-but-their-friends'-boyfriends.

Has this become an epidemic of sorts? Why is this something that we are finding more often? Please don't take the Spice Girls seriously boys. If you wanna be my lover, please don't get with my friends.

And now, the almighty question: can men and women be friends?

When Harry Met Sally taught us: no, probably not. Will probably end up married.

Now you're probably thinking, "Oh, goodness. Don't tell me I'm going to marry one of those guys".

Don't be alarmed.

Accept it. Embrace it. You probably will.

But, in all seriousness, is this an issue that should alarm us? Should we do something about this? Or should we just accept affection in this cold, harsh, materialistic world?

Am I too bitter? No faith in humanity? I'll tone it down.

So, as I sip my tea in front of my laptop, I now realise that I've come to no conclusion. My so-called 'wisdom' has provided nothing but a commentary or overview of sorts of the over-affection that one might encounter and that we seem to be encountering more and more often from the people we don't expect to receive it from.

Sure, I'm concerned.

But, maybe we should just cross that bridge when we get to it.

Sarah.

Rejection: that's life, boys.

I won't lie to you: it's always been a dream of mine to write a Carrie-esque blog entry, or a relationship-related column in a newspaper or magazine, and I think I've finally found the chance. Goodness knows I kind of want to be Carrie - just a little bit.

Mainly for the whole sitting around in my underwear with a cigarette in hand in front of my computer, gazing out the window murmuring "and I couldn't help but wonder..." (what a romanticised vision, I know).

Sitting at our usual spot at uni today with the usual Monday morning gals - tea in hand, of course - our conversation turned, as it almost always does, to the ridiculous stupidity and strangeness that one might encounter during nearly any interaction with the male 'species' - and I say species, because boys in general really do seem to be a part of a whole other type of human being.

Ah, yes. This species of mankind does often seem to be depicted by us ladies as subjecting us to its incomprehensible behaviour and constantly breaking hearts.

Yet, it was Marina who taught us how to be heartbreakers.

Sitting with the girls we reflected upon the harshness of rejection. And I couldn't help but wonder: is a girl a heartbreaker just because she rejects someone whom she was friendly with over a number of weeks? And by friendly, I mean texting often and having coffee together? Surely you couldn't possibly owe another person anything if only after a mere few weeks? Yet, if I were the one being rejected, would I feel like I merited some sort of explanation?

Could we even call rejection a type of character building, or is this simply a way out of feeling the guilt of rejecting someone?

It's easy, of course, for me to say rejection is a type of character-building, but rejection is, after all, a part of life. Maybe we should all take a leaf out of Marina's book, and feel the full force of feminine power and strength that she seems to advocate in her anthem.

To be continued...

Sarah