<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327</id><updated>2012-01-30T01:21:25.768Z</updated><category term='life is difficult isnt it'/><category term='women'/><category term='men'/><category term='sexuality'/><category term='fun'/><category term='me'/><category term='evolution'/><category term='Spain'/><category term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>welcome to planet neptune...</title><subtitle type='html'>this is a wierdo diary written by a wierdo girl from a far away planet..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-8583114118169827822</id><published>2008-06-27T10:58:00.007Z</published><updated>2008-06-27T11:14:40.256Z</updated><title type='text'>hombres</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/SGTIndmGaWI/AAAAAAAAAdM/xl7lQ5C5JT8/s1600-h/fib04_fangoria_a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216514848686762338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/SGTIndmGaWI/AAAAAAAAAdM/xl7lQ5C5JT8/s200/fib04_fangoria_a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que se mueven.. hay hombres que se agitan.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que no existen.. hay hombres que no gritan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que respiran.. hay hombres que se ahogan.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que ocultan la verdad.. hay hombres que roban&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay quien apuesta fuerte y decide quererte.. sabiendo lo fácil que resulta perderte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿sabes que siempre estaré cerca de tí?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que te compran.. hay hombres que se venden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que recuerdan.. hay hombres que mienten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay hombres que prefieren no hablar.. hay hombres que no entienden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay quien no tiene suerte y prefiere engañarte.. sabiendo lo fácil que resulta ganarte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿sabes que nunca me iré lejos de tí?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tienes que aprender a resistir.. tienes que vivir..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;esto no lo tengo, esto no lo hay. Esto no lo quiero y esto que me das&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay quien apuesta fuerte y decide quererte.. sabiendo lo fácil que resulta perderte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sabes que siempre estaré cerca de tí..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay quien no tiene suerte y prefiere engañarte.. sabiendo lo fácil qué resulta ganarte..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sabes que nunca me iré lejos de tí..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoy hay luna llena, y un hombre camina por ella...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FANGORIA - HOMBRES&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-8583114118169827822?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/8583114118169827822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=8583114118169827822&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8583114118169827822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8583114118169827822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/06/hombres.html' title='hombres'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/SGTIndmGaWI/AAAAAAAAAdM/xl7lQ5C5JT8/s72-c/fib04_fangoria_a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5837033775407050815</id><published>2008-05-30T08:48:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-05-30T09:06:39.654Z</updated><title type='text'>war</title><content type='html'>war.. is not honour, war.. is not valor, war.. is not sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;war.. is killing, war.. is hurt, war is aggression and war is empty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soldiers aren't heros, soldiers aren't brave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soldiers are manipulated, soldiers are murderers and soldiers are cowards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if there were no soldiers there would be no wars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5837033775407050815?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5837033775407050815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5837033775407050815&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5837033775407050815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5837033775407050815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/05/war.html' title='war'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-631663329125168918</id><published>2008-03-21T22:28:00.020Z</published><updated>2008-03-22T16:42:48.088Z</updated><title type='text'>la caja de pandora</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R-Q-E-QyGTI/AAAAAAAAAdE/HevRoSdRPwE/s1600-h/Pandoras-Box-Print-C10100758.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180333726536702258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R-Q-E-QyGTI/AAAAAAAAAdE/HevRoSdRPwE/s200/Pandoras-Box-Print-C10100758.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i feel a little guilty tonight.. and maybe a bit unhappy too, but its all my fault you see? I opened up Pandora's box again tonight.. i have a habit of doing this? i think its part of the insecure part of my personality..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;for the first time in a long time today, i got a chance to go clothes shopping with my mum. We walked into town in the blustering wind, finding it pretty difficult to hear what each other was saying. What is it with march? why does it blow so much. what is it trying to blow away, and push far away into the distance?? anyhow, eventually we got there and began to look around the shops.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;At first, mum wanted to buy some chocolate brazil nuts for my dad, who's not feeling very well, so we went into the first shop and she bought some. Then we went into a few clothes shops, you know, the ones that only have fashionable lines now, and never have any size over 12? well, anyway, i can fit into 12's just about, and i managed to find a jumper for 3 pounds that really suits me.. you know now that i've worn it all day, i've got bored of it.. but thats how it is with clothes right?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;but, anyway, that was a good thing and it made me feel pretty good. Buying clothes always does, i suppose it gives you a chance to see yourself in a different light, if only for a short while? Afterwards, we looked through a few other shops, and my mum was constantly being really nice to me, telling me how things suited me, she said how well i was looking.... amazing i thought? something had to be wrong. My mum was being too nice to me, she's never this nice? but i just thought, oh well! its good isn't it? and we carried on. Later when we had both got tired and she had not found the new cardigan top, the type that she always wears, we decided to have a coffee in a bar and ended up talking about this and that, and it was all very nice! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, I think the waiter fancied me.. i fancied him! they always look so big and overpowering behind those bars, so i gave him a big smile! He then brought the coffees all the way upstairs.. what a nice chap, and what a great bit of manipulation! So, altogether a good day for me i was thinking! there are few things like a knowing-stare between two people to sweep you of your feet and into the clouds again.. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; all spent with my mum? its amazing, we had no arguments, no acusations or anything! I think she's really trying to get on with me. The problem, is with me, in that I think that maybe i didn't return it. I didnt return the good feeling that she had given me all day?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;so why not? well.. later i got back and went to have tea at my parents house, i thought.. hmm perhaps i shouldn't go i don't want things to go wrong and spoil a good day, but anyway, not fancying another night alone in a cold empty house (my partner is in spain with my kids, again?) i decided to go.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;soon, as always seems to happen when im alone with my mum and dad, we got talking about all the thoughts that keep going around and around in my head.. this time it was abortion, feminism, anti feminism and all of those bloody things that keep giving me such a headache?? sooo i ended up telling them, a bit arrogantly, how i knew just &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; much about it all now, and that i had seen things from a different point of view to them. From a new perspective?! perhaps, and maybe this is all down to the past year or so of being indoctrinated by the mrm into their way of seeing things..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;however, as those kind of conversations always go, they always seem to ends up in kind of an argument, where two of us takes sides against the one.. and tonight i think it made my mum feel bad. She had made such an effort and for it to end like that, it wasn't right, and its my fault.. I feel like i've opened their eyes to something that perhaps i shouldn't have? as if i somehow opened pandoras box in my relationship with them? oh god, i feel so bad, and so guilty!! what happens if this makes some kind of wedge between them in their relationship? what if it affects my relationship with them? why didn't i think about this before? perhaps im turning into a self-righteous arrogant bitch? do you think so?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i feel like i've been trying to convert them into something, and i dont really know why? i've got a bee in my bonnet this time and i feel like i ruined a really nice day. I rarely get to spend time with my mum without children, or nasty bitchy arguments.. Why am i involved in all this? why do i seem to care about it? its nobodies fault but mine is it? We even ended up looking up talking all kinds of bizarre things that no child should ever talk about with their parents! I like calling myself a child again, cant you tell??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;so, anyway i feel like i've done something really bad today. For the first time in a long time i feel like i am not making enough effort, and caring in my relationship with my parents.. is it true? if this mrm stuff is true, then why does it make me feel bad talking about it? what is it that i am sacrificing when i talk about it with people that are close to me?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;dear diary, im not sure what i should do now? I feel nervous and anxious, and im all alone again.. Perhaps i should just leave things and see what happens. Things always feel better after a nights sleep dont they? The problem is that once you opened pandora's box, then it doesnt shut again does it??&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;perhaps im scared, maybe thats what it is. Scared of something changing in life? Oh well, it is march again, and i suppose march, much like october, is a month of changes. The winter blows its way out and the flowers and birds return? I love the scent of the air, on those long evenings when the sun manages to shine for a while..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;that sounds good doesn't it? but i still feel bad.. i cant cover up my feelings by writing things that make me happy anymore.. its not true, i dont deserve to be happy tonight. Im sorry i want to shut the box again, but i can't can I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-631663329125168918?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/631663329125168918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=631663329125168918&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/631663329125168918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/631663329125168918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/03/pandoras-box.html' title='la caja de pandora'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R-Q-E-QyGTI/AAAAAAAAAdE/HevRoSdRPwE/s72-c/Pandoras-Box-Print-C10100758.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3060821256240138078</id><published>2008-03-14T12:34:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-03-14T12:41:40.431Z</updated><title type='text'>je suis d'une génération désenchantée</title><content type='html'>tout est chaos&lt;br /&gt;a côté&lt;br /&gt;tous mes idéaux: des mots&lt;br /&gt;abimés...&lt;br /&gt;je cherche une âme, qui&lt;br /&gt;pourra m'aider&lt;br /&gt;je suis&lt;br /&gt;d'une génération désenchantée&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;désenchantée&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3060821256240138078?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3060821256240138078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3060821256240138078&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3060821256240138078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3060821256240138078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/03/je-suis-dune-gnration-dsenchante.html' title='je suis d&apos;une génération désenchantée'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-8497380871157036589</id><published>2008-02-12T10:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-12T12:04:15.395Z</updated><title type='text'>at the park</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;dear diary, here is another chapter in my relationship with my mother. I argue with her all the time, but yesterday, something kinda made sense to me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i was on my own yesterday my partner had just got back from madrid and had not really slept in 3 days so i had to do something alone with my two 3 year old daughters.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so silly me, i rang my mum up because she normally looks after my two nephews on monday because my sister is working, and her man (not married) is working in london for a months. My daughters get on well with my nephews so it makes things easier sometimes the days can be very long.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;anyway, im feel like im quite a dosile person, im pretty dull really, totally the opposite of my mother and my sister.. i mean i like kids but i get tired all the time, and all the cutting and sticking activities that most mothers get involved with give me a headache.. i just see the hoovering up afterwards, and find it difficult to enjoy the activity... I always felt like there was something missing in me, but yesterday i kinda realised that its actually the other way round?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;there is a hill near where i live that goes down onto some sports fields and J. my oldest nephew starts running down.. he trips and lands on his chin, meanwhile his body continues and just before it gets to the point where it would have snapped his neck, it stopped. i mean, he was very close to being killed.. my mother was not looking after him. Nobody has obviously EVER told him to be careful. They dont care. His dad is never there, his mother is a bossy bitch who is only happy with him while he does as he is told, to suit her.. my mother is the same. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so what happens? i said to him, j. you know, you nearly killed yourself then (hes only 3).. and my mum jumps in saying, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;'don't tell him that stop being stupid'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so i shut up? and i spent the whole of the rest of the day feeling upset but i didnt know why? then suddenly i got home and it all became clear to me!! its that she's trying to cover up the parts that she doesn't like about herself. She is a useless person when it comes to looking out for the safety of children.. its so bad that sometimes i think that doesn't care about his well being at all!? she only cares about being seen as mrs perfect grandmother! is that what is going on?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;when i tell J. that he needs to look after himself, its more important to my mother that what happend is swept under the carpet, than that J. actually learns something? Thats why i was upset allday.. because i cared about him and i was horrified by what happend..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;J's father is never there, and has no interest in children. Who is going to teach him? Once his father (my brother-in-law in name, not in marriage) drove all the way round to my house, just so i could change J's nappy! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;meanwhile, my sister is the same as my mum, while everyone is celebrating how wonderful she is, everything is fine, but if anyone says anything against her its a whole big tantrum and strop, where everyone takes her side and makes it look like you are at fault.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so, why does she treat me like the ugly unwanted annoying daughter who is a constant irritation? i think its because my mum had an affair with a man, who she loved and her love child was my sister.. then she married my dad (mangina) and had me to make sure of his income for the rest of her life. Meanwhile my dad has had 2 heart attacks in his early 60's and nearly died last week. Now he's got a pacemaker fitted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;anyway, what i realised, is that despite all the super mum activities both her and my sister do, the sticking, play dough, stuff that really gets on my nerves.. and all the crap mum ones i do, the truth is, when their children are about to kill themselves, they dont want to know.. it might make them look like bad? Their egos are more important, than their childrens welfare..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;isn't it interesting? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i feel really good about that.. i learnt that i can do somethings well yesterday, and so did my nephew! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-8497380871157036589?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/8497380871157036589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=8497380871157036589&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8497380871157036589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8497380871157036589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/02/at-park.html' title='at the park'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4383285390167962304</id><published>2008-02-05T14:09:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-03-14T13:36:28.517Z</updated><title type='text'>new forum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R9p_MoD4ngI/AAAAAAAAAck/gYLHUjOOj38/s1600-h/redplanet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177590576504675842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R9p_MoD4ngI/AAAAAAAAAck/gYLHUjOOj38/s200/redplanet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've started a new forum because we need somewhere - the address is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fruity1.proboards101.com/"&gt;http://fruity1.proboards101.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it will probably take 6 months at least to get enough members to run itself, but please take a look, or check back later!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4383285390167962304?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4383285390167962304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4383285390167962304&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4383285390167962304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4383285390167962304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-forum.html' title='new forum'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R9p_MoD4ngI/AAAAAAAAAck/gYLHUjOOj38/s72-c/redplanet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-190667119914777543</id><published>2008-02-04T18:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-05T14:31:26.209Z</updated><title type='text'>censorship on antimisandry.com</title><content type='html'>i dont really think anyone knows whats going on in that place anymore? or maybe its just me who doesnt know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but anyway i think there is alot of bad feelings in there at the moment, but i hope things will get better in the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not sure, but i think its probably better if i left. I've been thinking alot lately and i shouldn't try to compete with men really, its not something that has ever made me happy. I like men, but not really mens &lt;em&gt;rights&lt;/em&gt; so perhaps its not fair that i be there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just keep getting this annoying feeling that i have to go back there and see whats happening? aaah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fruity1.proboards101.com/index.cgi?board=mwi&amp;amp;action=display&amp;amp;thread=1202219608"&gt;http://fruity1.proboards101.com/index.cgi?board=mwi&amp;amp;action=display&amp;amp;thread=1202219608&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-190667119914777543?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/190667119914777543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=190667119914777543&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/190667119914777543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/190667119914777543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/02/censorship-on-antimisandrycom.html' title='censorship on antimisandry.com'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-2957561397360765556</id><published>2008-01-18T14:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-18T15:58:08.998Z</updated><title type='text'>you know, if you don't love your children, you don't love anyone..</title><content type='html'>its a friday and my children have gone to nursery school - what am i to do? they learnt songs that someone else taught them. Im beggining to get the first feelings that someone must get when their children grow up and leave home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been totally bored for the last few days, home alone, no kids, no bloke.. only a computer and a super-clean house to keep me company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well, at least its given me a chance to write, and on this occasion, to talk about my true feelings about a rather controversial subject..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found this article in a feminist site that i've read a few times..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://feministing.com/archives/008428.html"&gt;http://feministing.com/archives/008428.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="008428"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ga-Ga for Guttmacher&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Guttmacher Institute &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guttmacher.org/media/nr/2008/01/17/index.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;has released&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; a mother of a study today revealing that in 2005, the U.S. abortion rate was the lowest it has been since 1974. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;In other words, the rates continue to decline. The study reveals a number of other interesting &lt;strong&gt;(and depressing)&lt;/strong&gt; findings, like: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;* The number of abortion providers is decreasing, yet at a slower rate than previous years&lt;br /&gt;Medication abortion - or mifepristone - use is growing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;* More than 1 in 4 abortion patients reports traveling at least 50 miles to reach a provider. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;* Nationwide, 87% of counties have no abortion services, a figure that has existed since 2000&lt;br /&gt;They also have a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guttmacher.org/statecenter/sfaa.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;state-by-state guide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; with abortion rates and access. Check out the full study, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.guttmacher.org/pubs/journals/4000608.pdf"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Abortion in the United States: Incidence and Access to Services, 2005."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;now, the key bit i highlighted here, is that the writer of this article thinks that it is &lt;em&gt;depressing&lt;/em&gt; that the abortion rate has decreased..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wondered how could it possibly be depressing?? depressing that more children are not being murdered, having things stuck into their barely formed, fragile and defenceless bodies. Having their life, there existence stolen from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this message is to those that have written this article, and to those women whom think abortion is right.. I am writing to give you the choice to say no to murder. I am writing this to give you the choice to do the right thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, Its not your body, it the childs body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, its not your choice. Your choice was to have sex, or to not have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you not understand that? why do you seek so hard to destroy what you cared so little in creating? do you only belive in death and destruction? what is it that makes you so desperate to cover up what is such an evil process?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly, i am not excusing the fathers, the doctors and all the other people involved, they have their own demons to face. You are not fighting to defend those people, so why are you claiming to be fighting for women's rights, and yet you are happy for women to be murdered in the place they are supposed to feel more safe than anywhere else? inside the uterus. inside the body of the person that feels them closer than any other..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can you not empathise with the child that was growing inside of you? do you not feel anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can only think you are so intencely selfish that your own life is more valuable to you than that of your own child..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe, is it really, that you have already had an abortion and you hide behind the banner of 'womens rights' to protect your guilt and your conscience? You do not want to come to terms that you are a child killer. who would? its normal, but you are wrong and you are evil. You must not be mistaken about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only answer for you, is to come to terms with who you are, not to make more people into monsters like you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stop lying to us, you care not about women, but only about yourself. Is it really that you whole struggle is to manipulate people, women, so that they do not see the black hearted person that you really are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what, i think your depressed because more and more people are beggining to see through the abortion issue right down into to the cold black hearts of the people that promote it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the last thing i want to say, and i want to say how good, and full of life i feel when i say this, is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i never had an abortion. I am not a murderer, and I love my children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want you to know that, i want you to know how strongly my feelings are against you. I want you to know that i chose life, that i chose caring and that i chose right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only way for you to make better, is to come to terms with what you have done. I will welcome you with open arms and with warmth and caring. I want you to teach people why what you did was wrong. I want you to stop the lies and save yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, theres a saying in spain, and it think it fits in well here..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you can't love your children, you can't love anyone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you ever loved your child that you murdered, you will tell her or him, that you are sorry.. that you were wrong, and that you will not forget them and that you will fight so that they are remembered and that other children do not have to suffer what you have put them through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-2957561397360765556?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/2957561397360765556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=2957561397360765556&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2957561397360765556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2957561397360765556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-know-if-you-dont-love-your-children.html' title='you know, if you don&apos;t love your children, you don&apos;t love anyone..'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-8108082874232053053</id><published>2008-01-05T15:53:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:16:00.810Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>webcams, being middle class, and looking like an old hag..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R4EMd5nt3pI/AAAAAAAAAYk/-0uNQeA5lgM/s1600-h/me+on+webcam.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary, time to write something new isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;well i've been away on holiday, it was 20 degrees (celsius NOT farenheit!!!) but i had to cope with in-laws traditional christmas fighting so just about came of even in the end. You know, when im away, i really miss my computer. I've become very attached to it, i was thinking while i was away.. my best friends these days tend to be random people on the internet, and you know what??&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i dont think im ashamed of that anymore.. should i be ashamed of that? i mean, you're not &lt;em&gt;real &lt;/em&gt;people, are you? are you???&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;im probably an anti-social type. I feel comfortable when i don't have to talk to anyone, when i don't have to portray any stupid image of the latest fashion in being a &lt;em&gt;normal&lt;/em&gt; human being.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;along time ago, my mother spent most of my early years reminding me of this while she kept up with the jones's at her oh-so-middle class dinner parties. &lt;em&gt;'Well hello'&lt;/em&gt; they would say to me, not quite looking me in the eye.. 'how are things, how is life!?' and 'hows school!' sipping their wine, looking awkwardly like they weren't somehow real people...&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;bloody hell, i dont know, im 10 years old! did you know that?? i want to run upstairs and cry. i cant really tell them that schools horrible can i? or that they bully me because im fat? they dont really want to know do they? or at least, they dont want to feel awkward in front of the Joneses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i suppose the answer to all this is to never trust anyone who asks you questions without looking in your eye. you can be nice to them, but something is not as it seems, is it?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;so, that was how i felt. I was always made to feel guilty for being anti-social. Like there was something wrong with me. Well you know what? there are lots of things wrong with me, but i dont care anymore, im a bloody wierdo, so shove that up your bum along with the wine, the pesto and the sun dried tomatoes.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, 1980's middle class dinner parties apart, recently i've become addicted to this horribly addictive and frankly, narcisistic new invention known as webcam. I sit in front of it, and suddenly tens and hundreds of random people want to know about me. Yes me.. is this what being well known is like?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Some can speak english, others try but fail. They can construct sentences with the word tits in it, but thats as far as they go. Normally arabs.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;occasionally you meet more interesting people and they actually make me feel attractive for the brief period that im there, and believe me, that is a bloody hard thing to do.. sometimes i fancy them. Its always annoying, because you can't touch people on webcam... then i go back to reality, where i generally feel like an ugly old hag. I spend most of my days wondering how i can be so ugly and nobody else can really see it. I suppose its called being a woman isnt it? or maybe its just about being me.. anyway, webcam is almost becoming preferable to real life. That has to be wrong doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i suppose it must be really funny watching what people get upto behind closed doors. Staring at me in my dirty pyjamas. Its funny, they dont know that their dirty!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;On webcam they call me pretty, sexy and lot of other things that make me feel as if somehow i was something special. It never happens to me in real life. What it is that i do on there, that i don't do in real life? perhaps in real life they can see that my pyjamas are dirty? perhaps they see the bags under my eyes.. who knows? perhaps men are afraid to say nice things to me in real life. i dont know. Maybe they are lying, but what for? its not like there going to get anything from me is it? i mean, im 1000s of miles away. I even get women admirers. They bug me and never go away.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i think that on webcam, i become a different personality, someone who has lots more confidence and doesn't get hurt as easily as she should. I mean, on the internet, i don't care if people call me names, or get into arguements with me really. Thats the not the same as real life is it? in real life it hurts doesnt it? on the internet it doesnt hurt so much.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i suppose most people on there are guys. I dont really have any competition. I guess the answer, is just to get rid of all the other women in the world, and then real life will get a bit better for me?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;oh well.. maybe i should just become middle class and ask my friends kids how school is...&lt;/div&gt;. &lt;div&gt;perhaps the real meaning of the internet is that you can make friends and talk about things that in real life, are just too difficult. Perhaps webcam is somewhere you can feel the emotions that you don't let yourself feel in real life, eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-8108082874232053053?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/8108082874232053053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=8108082874232053053&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8108082874232053053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/8108082874232053053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2008/01/webcams-being-middle-class-and-looking.html' title='webcams, being middle class, and looking like an old hag..'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-499241917544114317</id><published>2007-11-28T16:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-28T16:43:20.768Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>angry woman!</title><content type='html'>i was quite appalled today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because i went to drop my children of at the local nursery. There was some kind of stall that was giving away little nicki-nacky kids things so i had a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a lady confronts me, and gives me a questionaire, basically asking if i was suffering from, or, if i knew anyone who was suffering from domestic violence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its appalling, my partner knows the people at this nursery and he drops them of as often as i do. Yet, while he's not there, like the true cowards they are, they ask me in so many words, if he is guilty of beating me up. You know, i have standards, and this was disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who the hell do these people think they are? seriously, who are they? they think they know better than my own relationship with my husband? how dare they try and stick their nose in &lt;em&gt;MY&lt;/em&gt; relationship!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all around were posters saying 'does &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; make you feel small?' - isn't domestic violence a unisex subject? aparently not. I normally ignore this kind of thing, but you could replace the he with blacks, whites, and suddenly it would become wrong wouldn't it? I can see that. Im not an airheaded sheep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what, this is a sure start, state run nursery, its a kids place. They are encouraging women to snitch on their unsuspecting husbands. I have to say im horrified by it. Im starting to worry about what other propanganda they are trying to put in my kids heads..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like the sad truth is, that these people rarely find anyone who is actually suffering from domestic violence, they just construct witch-hunts against innocent and decent caring men who can't control themselves socially very well. I've seen how men act, in situations like this. They cower away in the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enough is enough. I've &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;always&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; said i would stand up for decent family men, and i am absolutely disgusted by this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, i think domestic violence is appalling, but i also think that air headed people trying to destroy family relationships at a local nursery, is just as appalling. There was another man there, he often drops of his kids. Nobody gave him anything, nobody gave him any information, or nicky-nacks. He was isolated, left alone. I felt sorry for him, but i felt more angry at the way these people thought that i was more interested in them, than in my husband.. that i would snitch on him, for their cause?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only question is, what do i do about it? how do i support my man in such a hostile situation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and how do men cope with this kind of situation, and why dont they start standing up for themselves? perhaps i was wrong about machoman. Im starting to like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe they deserve it for letting things get into this state..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow i really am going from one extreme to another!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im a roller coaster&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-499241917544114317?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/499241917544114317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=499241917544114317&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/499241917544114317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/499241917544114317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/11/angry-woman.html' title='angry woman!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-6077429488685765700</id><published>2007-11-27T19:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-28T16:42:37.201Z</updated><title type='text'>im confused</title><content type='html'>i just realised im not banned anymore from antimislaundry.com. I went back there and i have to say im really confused about this whole thing. Part of me wants to go back in there, because i do believe in the family with men in it, i can see through lots of the lies some women and men have told, and i do believe in &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; of the things they talk about. I dont want people to feel bad, and unhappy. Its not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, the problem is, im just about to say something when suddenly i think of all the men that have treated me badly in my life. Men who have treated me like i had no feelings and that i was a peice of shit. Men who have made me feel that i am worthless and that i have no value for anybody. Men who have made me wish i was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can i possibly support them? am i supporting them if i go back in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they think they are something new, and yet all i really see is the same old know-it-all insensitive men that i have come to recognise and have developed a huge distaste for. Im so confused about it all. I just don't beleive them, i dont think they care about anyone? and yet for some unknown reason to me, i am still drawn towards them. Deep down, they dont care about each other.. do they? deep down, i mean...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its all lies isnt it, just like before? when it comes to an end, their ideas, theories and ego are more important than someone elses feelings arent they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why should i let myself get involved in this again, open my heart again for people who do not care?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im asking a question here. nobody ever answers it, do they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its in my nature to be drawn to the people that treat me the worst..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its difficult isnt it? when you are not accepted for who you are..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im confused.. what do i do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-6077429488685765700?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/6077429488685765700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=6077429488685765700&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6077429488685765700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6077429488685765700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-confused.html' title='im confused'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5748963908792487124</id><published>2007-11-25T23:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-25T23:21:59.656Z</updated><title type='text'>my new obsessions!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R0oADMjrEWI/AAAAAAAAAWI/1eqGkSie-yc/s1600-h/ACI_300x300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136918379879928162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R0oADMjrEWI/AAAAAAAAAWI/1eqGkSie-yc/s200/ACI_300x300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i haven't forgot about you, i've just been a bit busy lately and i've become obsessed with air crashes. There is a program thats on everynight on national geographic channel and its more interesting than going on the internet, so im now an expert on air crashes!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'll come back soon when i've got something interesting to say! dont forget about me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;did you know that those planes can fly without engines?? i always thought that they would just fall out of the sky with a big 'plosh!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;isn't that interesting!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was one that ran out of fuel above the atlantic and managed to glide to the azore islands, and nobody was hurt at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and also i found this geography quiz game where you have to click on the cities its giving me a headache but its one of those addictive things that you can stop playing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5748963908792487124?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5748963908792487124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5748963908792487124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5748963908792487124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5748963908792487124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-new-obsession.html' title='my new obsessions!!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/R0oADMjrEWI/AAAAAAAAAWI/1eqGkSie-yc/s72-c/ACI_300x300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4905081163214440310</id><published>2007-11-04T10:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-04T10:42:55.075Z</updated><title type='text'>hello! im here hello!! can you hear me?! angry man!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Ry2epCQZN6I/AAAAAAAAAWA/qUdQdjx0hik/s1600-h/angry_man_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128929978462320546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Ry2epCQZN6I/AAAAAAAAAWA/qUdQdjx0hik/s200/angry_man_05.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;something thats been getting on my nerves a bit lately, is every time i speak to a bloke about gender relations, im met by a torrent of abuse about how women supposedly are. I feel like they direct it at me! yeah.. its all my fault isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;and you, of course! are blameless arent you!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;its all &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; fault isnt it my little one!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i sit there twiddling my thumbs, umming and erring and feeling a bit uncomfortable while thinking.. you just dont have a clue do you! you are so blinded by your hatred of women that you can't even see it when one is sitting in front of you who doesn't fit your stereotypes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;women are materialistic, intolerant, illogical, nasty, bitchy, blah blah blah, ma ma ma, ba ba ba...&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;well... next time you've been married to the entire 3 billion women in the world, then maybe we'll talk about that eh? Its not my fault you've got no taste, is it?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;im getting rather bothered by hearing this again and again. Im not a human punch bag, and i have feelings too you know? no... you dont know do you!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Im not the type of person to start arguments but one of these days im going to tell them exactly what i think of men! and im going to tell it to them as if it were there own personal fault and that they are responsible for it..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;if we are to get on, somewhere someone has to compromise.. and its not going to be me forever is it my sunshine?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;im starting to lose my patience a bit and its not like me.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i really dont know if they are talking to me, or talking through me or what they are doing.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;hello! im here hello!! can you hear me! angry man!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;next time this happens im going to say that three times and maybe they'll go away and leave me to face my fate in peace..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4905081163214440310?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4905081163214440310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4905081163214440310&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4905081163214440310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4905081163214440310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/11/hello-im-here-hello-can-you-hear-me.html' title='hello! im here hello!! can you hear me?! angry man!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Ry2epCQZN6I/AAAAAAAAAWA/qUdQdjx0hik/s72-c/angry_man_05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7936794503658333679</id><published>2007-10-24T20:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-26T08:48:43.988Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spain'/><title type='text'>¡te quiero, Pepé!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RyBNrfTvgpI/AAAAAAAAASY/S5KOU5vTEBc/s1600-h/teddybear_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125181785481642642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RyBNrfTvgpI/AAAAAAAAASY/S5KOU5vTEBc/s200/teddybear_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rx-071UmxjI/AAAAAAAAASQ/ofx2CEgSAsw/s1600-h/teddybear_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My husband and my children are not here today. Actually, they have been away for five days, visiting my parents-in-law in &lt;em&gt;españa&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Its good isn't it?' i tell myself, good that N. and L. get to hear some &lt;em&gt;castellano&lt;/em&gt; for a change.. english can be such a soul destroying language at times. It's good that A. has time to see old friends.. its good that my little girls get to know their grandparents.. yes its all good, except here i am, alone again. Its not good for me, i need to have people around me. I never used to be like that, but now i understand that its people that make my life colourful. I can survive for a while without them, but my life soon becomes empty and directionless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight i looked in the mirror at myself. I have a heart shaped necklace and i looked at it, thinking.. this is what life is. I have a heart inside me, just like the one on this necklace except mine is real.. its beating and it keeps me warm.. it makes me carry on, and yet, nobody is here to notice. Nobody can hear these thoughts that i have in my life. Nobody can see if im smiling or sad. My only friend is a computer screen, a keyboard and pepé the cuddly teddy bear, who keeps me company at night. Poor old pepé, i feel guilty if i don't tuck him in properly, and i hold his hand at night before we both fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that the night is the worst part about being alone. When it goes dark, the whole ambience of the house changes. Suddenly i am aware if the door is locked or not. I hear someone talking outside the window, we live in a red brick terraced house. We don't have a front garden, just a pretty little window box that i have neglected recently.. still i guess the pansies will flower this week. Something to look forward too. Anyway, i hear voices outside, i am suddenly worried that they are intending to enter. When its day, i don't feel threatened like this.. i think the silence in the house is strange so when i go to bed that i lock the bedroom door. It makes me feel more secure. I put an extra pillow on A's side of the bed.. i think that if someone comes in, nobody can see i'm in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else am i supposed to do at night? i don't have a car, and i live in a not-so-great area of a not-so-important town in the middle of a cold and empty country. I feel scared to leave the house on my own. I don't really have any friends since my children were born, my whole life has become devoted to them, and now they aren't here. Maybe i'll go upstairs and watch a video.. lets see what do we have? the sixth sense? i've seen that one, and its got scary music.. not such a great thing, when its dark outside and your alone honey.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well.. you know, im sorry pepé, its how i feel. I know you are up there keeping my bed ready for me really. You are like my third child, but i treat you badly when the others are around. I know that, i hope that one day you will understand why.. I promise you're going to have a proper mummy from now on ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well.. anyway, i've decided to come on here and spill out my feelings onto this strange website again. I sometimes go on webcam when i feel like this. I talk to some friendly, and yet distant and untouchable people on the internet. tonight, though, i just don't want to be stared at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i guess that its and i'm stuck in all alone again. I suppose that at least today i went out for a walk before it got dark. You know what happend? as usual, i was feeling self conscious and irratable, but i began wondering.. do we ever really notice the people who walk by? do they notice me, or are we still alone even when we're walking down the road?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, while i walked, i saw two tall and handsome young men in army uniforms crossing the road. Did they realise that i am alive and have a heartbeat too? Did they notice when i walked past them? What goes on in their lives, do i notice them? do they feel their heart beating when they are alone, just like i do? I have so many questions that im afraid to ask and we see so many people every day. Who knows what has happend to them in their time. Are they happy or are they sad? I often wonder this when i see them pass me by. Today i saw two old men walking with each other. They seemed happy didn't they? have i seen anyone else today who was sad? i don't know.. maybe its more difficult to tell when someone is sad. Perhaps im not looking hard enough for it. Do they see that i am sad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is a whole lot of things to see in the world, every day.. but when im alone, i have nobody to tell, apart from pepé. I hope that he's not sad too..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well, i suppose i should really enjoy these feelings while they are there. Maybe thats what i have to learn from today...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7936794503658333679?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7936794503658333679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7936794503658333679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7936794503658333679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7936794503658333679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/te-quiero-pep.html' title='¡te quiero, Pepé!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RyBNrfTvgpI/AAAAAAAAASY/S5KOU5vTEBc/s72-c/teddybear_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-6636821861848524652</id><published>2007-10-22T22:10:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:14:49.085Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>its all about me!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rx9fmlUmxiI/AAAAAAAAASI/oytSI-55jz8/s1600-h/ialam.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've been banned from antimisandry! yay.... but you can't stop me saying what i think! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i just want to highlight some of the immense comments of support i have recieved since the fated decision!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear annette:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;"Do you even realize how she must be creaming in her panties (excuse me, KNICKERS) just thinking about how she...ONE PERSON...caused this entire forum to talk about HER? The ultimate female fantasy: FULL ATTENTION...... When a woman is as annoying and whiny as FC is, its because she needs a good seeing-to"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its such a shame they banned me, i was just starting to like you. i think me and you could have got along really well!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, er.. actually.. maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from jbgood2:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"She got you guys fighting amongst yourselves right? Just like she set out to do! 'It's all about me". She's got the T shirt!&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what a great idea! its not a t-shirt, its a crappy bit of paper, but result is the same! and i dont have a screen printer.. as you can see all i have is a cheap webcam and a free paint program.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its time to start writing some proper things again, isnt it? i've wasted too much time in this &lt;em&gt;republica bananera&lt;/em&gt; havent i?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-6636821861848524652?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/6636821861848524652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=6636821861848524652&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6636821861848524652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6636821861848524652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-all-about-me-ive-been-banned-from.html' title='its all about me!!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3001875402260187336</id><published>2007-10-18T09:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-25T08:06:01.531Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>feminism, bouvet island, the outback and poor little penguins!</title><content type='html'>i've become really interested in geography lately, there is so much in the world that i dont know about. We downloaded google earth, isnt that amazing! you can even see our little terraced red brick house on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, a friend of mine, K., just got back from australia and she says that she wants to drive across the continent, apparently there is a road right through the middle..&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, i got on google earth, found the road and did the journey myself! it only took five minutes though..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;isn't australia a strange place, its like 1000's of miles of orange sand, with some bushes, and then this lonely little road going all the way through the middle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RxciMVUmxRI/AAAAAAAAAQA/wjU5iEgcAV8/s1600-h/Bouvet%2520Island.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122600696434574610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RxciMVUmxRI/AAAAAAAAAQA/wjU5iEgcAV8/s200/Bouvet%2520Island.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it got me thinking, how lonely some places in the world are. Apparently the most remote island in the world is called bouvet island. I guess its pronounced in a french way, like "boo-vey"? Its like an iceberg with an anchor!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apparently, its so far away that the nearest place is antarctica and that has no people living there either? There is a thread now about it in my forum:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi?board=geography&amp;amp;action=display&amp;amp;thread=1192634786"&gt;http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi?board=geography&amp;amp;action=display&amp;amp;thread=1192634786&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, this is my solution to the gender problem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;get all the MRA's and radical feminists, put them in a big wooden pirate ship and make them row all the way to bouvet island, and then make them stay there for ever and ever and ever!! Maybe they will evolve into penguins!!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i bet they'd end up having sex with each other!! hypocrites eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3001875402260187336?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3001875402260187336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3001875402260187336&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3001875402260187336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3001875402260187336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/welcome-to-bouvet-island.html' title='feminism, bouvet island, the outback and poor little penguins!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RxciMVUmxRI/AAAAAAAAAQA/wjU5iEgcAV8/s72-c/Bouvet%2520Island.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5695423748287943507</id><published>2007-10-16T10:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-25T08:06:01.531Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>take the test - are you from planet neptune??</title><content type='html'>its here!! the test you've all been waiting for!&lt;br /&gt;click below to take the test and find out!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gotoquiz.com/welcome_to_planet_neptune"&gt;http://www.gotoquiz.com/welcome_to_planet_neptune&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pleaselet me know what you got, leave me a comment!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and don't forget to visit the new planet neptune forum..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi"&gt;http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5695423748287943507?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5695423748287943507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5695423748287943507&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5695423748287943507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5695423748287943507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/take-test-are-you-real-neptunian.html' title='take the test - are you from planet neptune??'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3117861261203823453</id><published>2007-10-09T08:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-25T08:04:50.933Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>october</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwtI01UmxPI/AAAAAAAAAPw/bl8yXNLjoTQ/s1600-h/FlowersFogSunriseKY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119265473940604146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwtI01UmxPI/AAAAAAAAAPw/bl8yXNLjoTQ/s200/FlowersFogSunriseKY.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i haven't really got much to write about lately.. its raining outside, but i don't feel down. October is a nice month really, i always feel like its the calm before the long nights draw in and the real cold begins. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always get out the winter clothes around now, make space in a draw and get rid of the twins summer clothes. October is always a month where things change isn't it? The trees are slowly becoming orange, the strange party feel about life that you get in the summer is gone. There is still a nice scent in the air of what once was, but its blowing away in the wind..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd really love the autumn, but I know that winters coming along soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i used to like winter when i was little. we used to get snow back then? what has happend to it all, we never get any anymore. Snow always made the place look so pretty. I remember i used to wake up every winter morning with my fingers crossed that it had snowed! i opened the curtain and... nope.. it hadn't oh well, maybe tommorow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, you know sometimes when you get involved in things and you eventually come out of it? you look back and think... amazing, did i really &lt;em&gt;believe&lt;/em&gt; in that? i'm a bit like that now..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think that im in october in more than just the date on the top of the page. Its a time of change in my life, the way i feel about the world is changing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;recently, i've been lost inbetween feeling pretty down in the dumps, looking after children, trying to show my partner how important and how much i love him, while getting mixed up in a strange cult like movement called the &lt;em&gt;male rights movement (mrm)&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i don't really know how i got involved in it, but i know that at the beginning i was actually quite frightened by the &lt;em&gt;mrm &lt;/em&gt;and thought i'd better find out what it was about. I had always felt that some things weren't fair to the male gender, and suspected that they might have a case sometimes. Not to mention the things that are unfair to women, and its about time i started talking about that more.. but, it's true, &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; things aren't fair to them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the problem men have, is almost always they have brought it on themselves. I see the &lt;em&gt;mrm &lt;/em&gt;as a movement of lonely people, when they write, i can feel the pain that they have in their lives. They don't understand that life is about life. Its about the moment, not the future..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know what? i was completely wrong to be scared of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the &lt;em&gt;mrm&lt;/em&gt; are no threat to anyone, they are really just another bunch of people lost in their own head and have an inability to relate properly to the rest of the world. Its part of the human condition i suppose, im not saying they are bad people, just misguided. When people are selfish, it eventually shines through and you'd have to be really stupid not to see it in the &lt;em&gt;mrm&lt;/em&gt;. Im not saying that there aren't lots of stupid people out there, bless them, but, there is something in the macho psyche, that makes them completely unaware of how the rest of the world views them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know what? i actually quite like the world as it is, im pretty happy at the moment. I suspect those people aren't. I think thats why im drawn to them, its in my nature to want to understand and feel other peoples pain. I dont know why im like that, nobody can &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; feel mine... but you know, there is no world wide conspiracy against them.. its because.. well.. they are men who forgot how to enjoy life. it seems to me, they are incapable of having fun anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose that they walk down the road, and look at everything they hate about the world. They look at women like me, and they hate us because we exist? They don't see the hanging basket with the geraniums outside the house, they missed it. Its gone now.. Thats what im trying to say, that feeling bad, is about focusing on bad things. What have we done to them? we haven't done anything, we, just like anyone else, are just trying to get on with our lives in the best way we know. If you look for the bad in the world, you will find it. Its important to know that my sunshine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm still drawn to them though, i admit that.. i'm always interested in people and their wierd worlds, but i think thats where my interest finishes now? The summer has now gone and the world is beginning to change again. I dont think that there is any reason to be afraid of that is there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It takes humility and sensitivity to make a good world for yourself. Extreme people in my opinion, dont know how to do this, or they forgot about it.. you know, it's not about competition, its about understanding isnt it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What i can say to people lost in the bad feeling of any group like the mrm, is that when you talk about loyalty, you mean intolerance. When you talk about brothers, you mean slaves. When you talk about women, you mean people who are trying to be happy. If you are really that intellegent, why are you in the situation you are in? Have you asked yourself that? why can't you hear what im saying..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;its october, and things change. but it has to come from the inside, not from the outside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;next time you walk down the road, don't hate me. Why do you all hate me? Remember that i told you to look at the flowers. remember that you can choose to see the good in life, but you have to know that there is no party.. there is no crowd cheering you on. It's about noticing the flowers, instead of seeing the storm coming in. Next time you feel hate, remember me, and look for the flowers..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3117861261203823453?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3117861261203823453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3117861261203823453&amp;isPopup=true' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3117861261203823453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3117861261203823453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/october.html' title='october'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwtI01UmxPI/AAAAAAAAAPw/bl8yXNLjoTQ/s72-c/FlowersFogSunriseKY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3219409713221862133</id><published>2007-10-01T22:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-02T09:22:37.266Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>in the night garden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwF8rFUmxLI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/sywMX1l-kSA/s1600-h/svkidstv1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116507731274417330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwF8rFUmxLI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/sywMX1l-kSA/s200/svkidstv1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just wanted to write something down tonight because i've just had such a wonderful night. Tonight my faith in life has been restored so much i can't say how much because i just feel so happy like i've got a feeling in my stomach, i just dont want to ever go to sleep again! my fingers are tingling while im writing this and im smiling like i haven't smiled all week long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whats happend tonight? well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;firstly i had a good hair day today.. always a vital part of any good day (why is that, isn't it bloody annoying?) but that happens all the time nothing special right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well ok but next, im waiting to go to my class, i bloody hate classes i always get really nervous before i go, like the whole worlds going to end when i walk in the room. That feeling i get when i walk in if nobody is talking they all stare at me and wait while i agonisingly get my folder and pen out of my bag. Why am i a teacher???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, they were all nice to me! wow isn't that just so nice. Yeah, thats why im a teacher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, thats not all.. thats just the beggining!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was talking to a friend of mine on webcamera. I love webcamera you can meet a whole world of people in like, 20 minutes before you have to go out. Isn't it novel eh? well anyway, D. has a little girl and she's watching TV! i don't know what it is about men looking after babies but they just make me feel like life is worthwhile. She looks like her dad, one more for the good! D. is someone who makes me feel like life is worthwhile. Sometimes its ok to say how you feel right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway that's not all that made me smile,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...i got back from my class, and i read a letter an internet friend of mine, otis.. he has commented on here before. He had written back to somebody that hates me. I just couldn't believe it, someone supporting me??? lol, take that you nasty people! O. hates women? or does he just believe in seperation of the sexes? im not sure. I think he's someone who hasn't learnt how to seduce women properly yet... but maybe im the naive one? Maybe he knows and hes not interested in us. He's got all the tools, and he knows that we always want what we can't have..but he's too scared of using them isnt he? Its too easy for him he wants more of a challenge right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, heres what he wrote..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://antimisandry.com/average_age-t7374p11.html?t=7374&amp;amp;page=11"&gt;http://antimisandry.com/average_age-t7374p11.html?t=7374&amp;amp;page=11&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O. seems to be another person who has actually made me believe in people again. Its not often that happens and when it does, i think its important that I recognise it. The last time someone made me feel like i do now was ages ago - i wrote a post about it, the link is..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/06/this-is-short-post.html"&gt;http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/06/this-is-short-post.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't really hate anyone, i feel awkward with some people, and some i feel like they hate me, but i can't really return it for long.. I don't think that there is that much to life, but people who make me feel accepted, are the best thing in my life. I suppose thats why we love being with kids so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sometimes in life its difficult to see the good in people because we don't know how to show it. We never learn how to express positive sides to ourselves because we get rejected for it when we are young? or maybe we are rejected during our whole lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is that right? i don't know i don't really understand why some people are nasty, when its not neccesary. I don't know maybe im guilty of that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still im a pisces and were all a bit like that aren't we. To lost in ourselves and not aware of the funfair that goes on around us??? typical fishies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i have to go to bed.. well actually, i ought to go to bed, but tommorow i won't feel like this so best to write it down now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so.. O., D. and especially mini-D, thankyou, because you've really made my night..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3219409713221862133?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3219409713221862133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3219409713221862133&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3219409713221862133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3219409713221862133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/10/yo-no-soy-ninguna-traidora.html' title='in the night garden'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RwF8rFUmxLI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/sywMX1l-kSA/s72-c/svkidstv1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-818636359290573053</id><published>2007-09-26T09:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-02T09:22:37.266Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>crash!</title><content type='html'>i had a minor car accident on monday. I've never had one before and so its a bit of a strange experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what happend was i was trying to turn right, and i couldn't see anything because there were two parked cars blocking the view. I looked right, looked left and then just as i was looking right again, a motorcycle appeared out of knowhere. I stopped the car, i'd hardly pulled out at all and i remember thinking.. wow that was close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then, he slowed down but his bike started wobbling all over the place and he eventually crashed right into the front of our car (my dads &lt;em&gt;fancy&lt;/em&gt; car). I remember watching him getting closer and closer and thinking, what is he doing?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then when he smashed i thought you idiot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what happend next? two people ran to him and one offered to be his witness? they were asking him if he was ok, nobody looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they pushed his bike up and then the first thing he did was ask a nearby woman to be his witness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was still in a bit of shock, but i got out of the car and asked him if he was ok. No answer. We swapped details and he drove off. My kids were in the back of the car and by now were getting anxious. He never bothered asking us how we were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did this do to me? it made me think i was responsible, that i had been at fault. I started getting nervous, anxious and worried. I've never crashed before and im a safe driver. I kept blaming the parked cars, and not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway. the point is, that a few days later having seen the evidence, that his motorcycle crashed into the front of our car, and not the side, it means its impossible that i had pulled out too far. He would have hit the side of our car, not the front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with this evidence, i started to think, actually.. he wasn't wobbling, he was out of control. Any suitable driver would NEVER have crashed into me. He was going to fast around a blind corner and he couldn't control his vehicle. Imagine if a kid had pulled out in front of him, what then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im pretty upset, because he pretended his leg was hurt and everyone ran to him. Yet his leg wasn't hurt enough to go running to find his witness was it. His leg wasn't hurt enough for him not to just get up on his bike and zoom of again. He faked it, and we all fell for it. He got all the sympathy and witnesses on his side. Clearly, i was dealing with an &lt;em&gt;experienced&lt;/em&gt; crasher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet, the evidence shows that it was clearly his fault. Is there something wrong with me?, that when i crashed i was actually concerned that everyone was ok? he only appeared concerned with winning his court case which will im sure be fought out. Why did everyone take his side, when he was at fault?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know why? because in life, people like him, have made decent people into losers. People like him are actors, people who manipulate situations in their favour. He even manipulated me into thinking it was my fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad assured me that its not physically possible for it to have been my fault. I never once felt guilty, not until he pretended to be injured and people ran to him asking if he was ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One minute i was thinking, &lt;em&gt;'you bloody moron&lt;/em&gt;!' the next i was thinking &lt;em&gt;'oh&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;my god, what have i done&lt;/em&gt;!'.. what had changed my attitude so completely?? he had manipulated me by pretending to be injured, pretending to be the victim, when it was his fault. Its scary isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway neither of us were hurt, nor my kids (who he never even knew where in the car, he didn't care about us at all).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe what i should have done is jumped out the car, and started screaming. Saying '&lt;em&gt;oh my god why did you run into my car&lt;/em&gt;?'... &lt;em&gt;'why were you driving so fast around a blind corner&lt;/em&gt;?!', .. &lt;em&gt;'i have kids here'&lt;/em&gt;.. maybe if i'd lied and made up how much i was damaged and manipulated the situation, i might be in a better position now. Maybe i wouldn't have to sit here and write down why i feel so upset?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe if i was a worse person, a nastier person who doesn't care, maybe i'd be ok..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;road accidents apparently show the true face of people.. there are those that care, and there are those that care about themselves, i mean, what other conclusion can i possibly draw from that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i should stop drawing conclusions and start looking after myself properly? perhaps thats the lesson i need to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually, having thought about it the real morale of the story is if you crash with a motorcycle, be careful, because even if its their fault, they are going to seem like the victim. Make sure you photograph everything that happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-818636359290573053?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/818636359290573053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=818636359290573053&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/818636359290573053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/818636359290573053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/09/crash.html' title='crash!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-1790198851494398644</id><published>2007-09-19T09:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-19T09:38:34.404Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>Aint life wierd eh?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RvDrnr4RyDI/AAAAAAAAAPI/j_X-dAxrJYM/s1600-h/emptiness_8_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111844644091709490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RvDrnr4RyDI/AAAAAAAAAPI/j_X-dAxrJYM/s200/emptiness_8_large.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RvDrgL4RyCI/AAAAAAAAAPA/k4FikSPLPK4/s1600-h/emptiness_8_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sometimes feel like my life is empty. Its not like a real thing, its just a feeling i get inside, in my stomach and it goes right up to my heart. Sometimes i wonder if my heart will just stop beating because i don't have the energy to keep it going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i felt like that last night, and i don't know where to turn. I can give my partner a cuddle, but the feeling of emptyness doesn't go away. I love him, i love him so much, love, is when you care. Its not about sex, or kissing, or going out to restaurantes. Thats something else isnt it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes im really amazed by the things people do in life. You turn on the television and you see adverts, and programs, all about the excitement of life, the things that happen. I never felt part of it. Its like a big party thats going on around you that you cannot touch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my life i've found very few things that actually make me happy and smile. When my daughters call me, the sound of their voice makes me feel like im needed, like i do have a part in that party that is going on around me. I can be intimate with them without fear of agression. I suppose the relationship changes over time but i love being a mother, its the best thing i ever found in life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are also certain sexual encounters when suddenly felt alive, like suddenly there is a world going on inside me. I've spent far too long in my life trying to find that kind of situation. It always relates to me trying to be this perfect woman, and when i look in the mirror i am reminded of how far away from it i am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sex is like that, its something you spend your whole life thinking is so important, but you then spend your whole life trying to be something your not. That first sexual encounter, when you feel turned on for the first time. It leaves an imprint in your mind and can consume your whole life trying to find it again. Why else do we have plastic surgery, endless diets and the rest? We are looking for something that's already happend. I guess we'll never find it again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That feeling of emptyness inside is why i argue, its why i cry and why i spend hours in front of a mirror making sure every single hair is in the right place. Im running away from it, im hiding and pretending that there is something more to life than emptyness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There isn't is there? I fill it with red bull, with internet forums, arguements, clothes, hairstyles, music, travelling and languages. Im running away from it, just like i did from school when i was young. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my mum left me at school when i was 6 i looked around and i saw faces that i didn't recognise, people talking to me about things i didn't understand, rooms that i did not know, children laughing, while i felt terrified. I just ran, i just felt like i couldn't stay there. I suppose i spend alot of my life feeling like that. She never used to pick me up from school. I remember leaving and watching everyone elses mothers smiling at them, i just had to walk home alone. There was a tree at the bottom of the road and i used to pretend it was her.. everytime i walked home from school, i wished that tree would turn into my mum, but it never did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, when i was bullied by a group of people at secondary school, i lost my trust in people. I still haven't got that back, and i still see the bullies everywhere i go. Different faces, different names, but the same face, the same feeling of vulnerability. I'm scared of people. Still, i guess that nobody knows that, apart from me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When i go in to teach classes, i smile and pretend to be a really nice person, a good teacher. The truth is that i don't feel comfortable. I hate being looked at, i hate attention. I don't really know why im a teacher, but if i do nothing i just look in the mirror and end up wanting to slit my wrists.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least since i had children, i now feel like my life has meant something. I suppose this is what im saying, that watching something grow, caring and giving everything you can to someone that you love, is the only real answer to that emptyness. Isn't it funny that cleaning poo out of a potty, is actually what makes me happy. Life is full of little contradictions like that. Aint it wierd eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-1790198851494398644?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/1790198851494398644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=1790198851494398644&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1790198851494398644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1790198851494398644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/09/aint-life-wierd-eh.html' title='Aint life wierd eh?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RvDrnr4RyDI/AAAAAAAAAPI/j_X-dAxrJYM/s72-c/emptiness_8_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-141106133783782783</id><published>2007-09-11T20:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-19T09:38:25.864Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>love from fruit cake</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i left a mens rights forum behind me a week or so ago. I went in there thinking i was mad, like i was a fruit cake. I came out thinking i was normal and they were the fruit cakes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i've lifted off the sea and took to the skies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never went back there but after talking to D, who i've grown really friendly with from the forum, i went back there and did a search on the thing he said as i enjoy reading his comments. I was amazed to find that there was lots of posts refering to me and even a thread written about me there, this is the link..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://antimisandry.com/lucia_vega-t7244.html?t=7244"&gt;http://antimisandry.com/lucia_vega-t7244.html?t=7244&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aparently i have the moral depth of a pool of urine! no idea what that means. I dont really understand his post, but hey.. any publicity is good publicity!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone at that place always called me thick, stupid, un-intellegent and a feminist... later on ugly and a transvestite, but anyway..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if im so stupid and everything, why are you writing a thread about me? I think people there hated me so much because i represented an opinion that they had not thought about properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, there you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thing is, that they go on about how awful women are, and that we are emotional and blah de blah blah, but, i did want to help them during my time there. I think they are going to miss me, im happy they haven't forgotten me. Im like the girl that took their virginity away from them. You never forget the first one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one day some of them will think about me, and suddenly understand what i was saying. Others will forget about me just like you forget about picking up the mail when it comes through the door in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose, in a funny way, i'll miss them too and i did learn somethings about myself. Thanks guys, for making me feel normal again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lifes pretty short isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love fruit cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah and ps. i have a message board now so if you want to continue to slag me off, or you need to talk to someone who cares.. then the address is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi"&gt;http://luciavega.proboards101.com/index.cgi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-141106133783782783?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/141106133783782783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=141106133783782783&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/141106133783782783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/141106133783782783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/09/love-from-fruit-cake.html' title='love from fruit cake'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7770564460207207540</id><published>2007-09-06T18:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-19T09:38:30.375Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>running, ducks and waiting for a resolution..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RuBRZFhzBfI/AAAAAAAAAOY/MNCFnAfM3MM/s1600-h/Sunset%2520Zottegem%25202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107171468860655090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RuBRZFhzBfI/AAAAAAAAAOY/MNCFnAfM3MM/s200/Sunset%2520Zottegem%25202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;im in one of those moods tonight, where you feel like your leaving something behind, like the sun is setting on a part of your life and you haven't yet found anything to put in its place? its like you are faced with the empty reality of life once again and you need something quickly to distract you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've changed alot today. isn't it funny how you can go years without changing and then overnight you are a different person? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;you know, its been a nice day today, A. goes out in the morning, so i'm left with the kids until 12:30. We went down to the river to feed the ducks, its really nice down there early in the day, not many people around, everyone smiles at each other. Im starting to really enjoy parenting. Its the best thing about my life by along way and i don't know how i lived with out it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, it got a bit scary because N. and L. can't throw very far so alot of the bread ended up landing on the shore and meant the swans came to get it. Their such big animals aren't they and we had to move on before they gobbled us up along with the bread. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, i get back home and they want some crisps (i'd used it as a bribe to get them out of the park as i was getting bored). So i give them crisps. Next they want some toasties.. im thinking, well, you've had crisp now you want toast and jam? you only had breakfast 2 hours ago. You're gonna get fat so i had to say no.. tears results! anyway, its a usual morning for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we go to pick up A. in the car, as he's walked in earlier and he's arranged to meet a friend. I get a bit of free time as the twins are with my mum and i decided to go for a run. I got my pants on, threw on a navy green vest and of i go.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;running has always been one of my favourite past times. When you're out there, the only thing you have to worry about is keeping going. All the problems of life disapear for a while and its like an escape. Its nice out running mid week, nobody around, the odd fisherman here or there. Everyone smiles at me and i smile back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nearly an hour later i get back and im exhausted. So i decide to clean the floor. Its full of orange juice and mixed in with all the dirt trodden in from the back garden. Then i have a bath, shave my armpits and go to pick up the twins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we get home and we're all tired, L. wants to use my legs as a slide, well.. ok. but it hurts doesn't it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of to bed go the twins, i manage to creep out without L. telling me to 'sit there'. Its always L, i think N is like her father and sleeps like a rock. (why did i say that! she's just woken up.. oh well better finish of quickly)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so here i am, looking for a new direction, writing here in my blog, and waiting for some kind of idea to sweep me away into another world to discover... (after i've gone upstairs and settled N. down that is!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7770564460207207540?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7770564460207207540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7770564460207207540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7770564460207207540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7770564460207207540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/09/running-ducks-and-waiting-for.html' title='running, ducks and waiting for a resolution..'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RuBRZFhzBfI/AAAAAAAAAOY/MNCFnAfM3MM/s72-c/Sunset%2520Zottegem%25202.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-2753486201429770576</id><published>2007-09-04T08:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-06T08:23:38.909Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>my last post on the mens movement.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rt2GPVhzBZI/AAAAAAAAANo/W3R4Nd1MEF0/s1600-h/sm_pele_painting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106385150543070610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rt2GPVhzBZI/AAAAAAAAANo/W3R4Nd1MEF0/s200/sm_pele_painting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rt2E7VhzBYI/AAAAAAAAANg/MSgR0YEkK5U/s1600-h/Bby-SchmidtAngrybg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is supposed to be my final post on the freak show....oops i mean the mens movement. I feel like its time to move on to find something else to interest me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been involved in two forums, and the truth is, i don't feel like i've come across more than 2 or 3 people who are involved in productive relationships with the opposite sex. The people involved in these forums are mostly life's losers and they want revenge. Just like the radical feminists before them, some may eventually move on, others, are intent on destruction. All are unhappy and all hate women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its quite interesting to look at the contradictions within their stories..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i went out on sunday with A. and my daughters to the local festival, all i saw were families, dads and mums, kids playing. Its all normal isn't it. We are normal aren't we..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when i go to work, i teach lots of men languages, and they smile, take part and generally enjoy themselves, and yet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i enter in a mens rights forum, all i hear is sob stories about how they've been abused by this that or the other. How hard they have it, how awful women are. All i hear are insults, aggression and nastyness towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men in reality like me, men in mens rights forums hate me. Interesting isn't it, how desperate people, normally have to drag others down to their level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, whenever i go down to the local supermarket, i see well dressed, handsome young men, and yet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i enter in a mens rights forum all i hear are men who probably don't brush their teeth or cant even wipe their bum properly. Its not womens fault you are ugly and you stink. (of course there is one exception, i hope he knows who he is, his name begins with D and...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most women want to have loving relationships with people who understand us, not with people who cannot tolerate us. Thats why these men are all alone, intolerance. They are intolerant of women, and they use 'male rights' as an excuse to put forward their real agenda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;why is it, that if i am so clever, and so brilliant, why does nobody love me? Why am i alone and yet all these entitlement fruit cake princess women are not.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes thats the question you have to ask yourself macho man, and the answer is pretty simple.. its because you are thick, and intolerant, and you are not a woman and you are not capable of understanding a woman. You cannot understand love, you can only understand dominance. You define reality through agression, not through caring. You are a loser and feminism destroyed you 50 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your only understanding of relationships is one of break down and pain. If i was married to one of you, i would escape with my children too..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, its your male ego, not women, that has destroyed any chance you have of happiness. Well, tough shit. I don't care anymore. You're the losers, and im bored of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and always remember..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for every screw up in the mens movement, there are 50 involved in normal productive relationships with western women. I, just like most women i know, believe in the majority of men, not the extremist freaks like you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and before you tell me about how some women are involved in the mens movement, just to add..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for every screw up woman in the mens movement, there are 500,000,000 who are happily getting on with their lives thanks to feminism and the women who put themselves on the line for us in the past. we are normality, and you are..well.. freaks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like its time to finish here. Its upto you, men, you either listen to women, like me, who are the majority in reality, but the small minority in your world, and move on and maybe learn something new..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or you listen to macho man, at home in his anonymous forum. Laugh with him while he insults women, but become afraid to show your face, an outcast in reality. While he consumes your soul bit by bit you will end up like him, bitter, lost and lonely. You'll even say you don't believe in relationships anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its upto you but im bored and its time for me to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rt0n4VhzBUI/AAAAAAAAANA/PBpJNOCPuQ4/s1600-h/cbgseat.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-2753486201429770576?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/2753486201429770576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=2753486201429770576&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2753486201429770576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2753486201429770576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/09/freak-show.html' title='my last post on the mens movement.'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rt2GPVhzBZI/AAAAAAAAANo/W3R4Nd1MEF0/s72-c/sm_pele_painting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-6676715041341133306</id><published>2007-08-31T20:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T11:02:15.089Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>children, jungles, wierdos and transvestites</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im going to write about the way i feel tonight. Its been a nice day. We went to the local jungle gym (always good because you can just chat while your kids have fun) and i always like those places, with mothers and their children. The occasional awkward, yet, friendly looking father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its so nice to feel normal sometimes, to feel like you're just like everyone else. Just another family with their children, trying to make sure that the children get the most out of their day. Of course, whilst also having to manage your own tiredness.. after all, its not good lying down on the couch when you get back, you have to get them to bed don't you!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommorow im back on my own again, more work, but more attention from my daughters.. great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what i really want to talk about is that im not sure how i feel about things right at this point in time. I've been arguing on an internet forum lately, and stubborn as i always have been, sooner or later, the weaker people, the mixed up and confused ones, always turn on me. What it is that i do, i don't know, nor do i care, but its an interesting sociological carachteristic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i want to talk about is how far i have come to understand the male rights movement in my time involved in it. I started out a few months ago, and now it feels like a lifetime later, i know alot more about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned that the male rights movement, just like practically every other social movement, is a group of damaged individuals who unite against what they percieve as a common enemy, lately, me, but generally feminism, or to be honest, women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The degree of damage varies. Some of them are just ordinary blokes, who've probably been involved in the wrong relationship, once or a few times. They feel upset, and hurt, and alone in their feelings. I think that they genuinely try and not blame all women for what has happend to them, but often fail, which i suppose, is human isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath, i tend to like this type of person, and i feel that with just a little guidance in the right direction, they will be able to leave the hatred and bad feeling that is central to the male rights movement (MRM from now on) behind them. I don't really know how to help them, but i can try and i've always hoped that they will prove to me that what i beleive, that men do care, is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, likewise to all movements of people, they are mixed up with, should i say 'infiltrated' by much more damaged people. People who were either born bad, or developed it pretty quickly. Men within the MRM who are like this, and men in general too, are normally fairly easy to spot. They have no ability to relate to the ordinary. Their entire world is based on abstract ideas of what they believe their enemy (me and, ultimately women) to be. They are scary people because they do not feel anything anymore. I've talked about franco and his lack of feeling, these are the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose in evolutionary terms, they serve a purpose, what that is? don't know.. don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thing that worries me, is that they will lead astray the ordinary man, and fill him with their hatred, malice and agression. They are bad seeds, born with evil inside them.. they are the bullies at school, and they continue bullying throughout their life. They don't bully with their fists, they bully with their nose. They look down it. Nobody stands up to them. I got bullied badly at school, and i will never ever back down again to people who think do not have genuine intentions. I will say it to their face, and i will say it again and again and again. Im a stubborn old goat, and i can see them coming a mile away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do they hate us, women, so much? more importantly, why do they hate ordinary people so that they have to live in the abstract. They have to live in a world of ideas, and theories. I live in a world, of dirty nappies, smiles, tears and cuddles. Im happy, despite all my insecurities, fears and worries... I suspect, that they aren't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one in particular really tried to have a go at me. Im pretty perceptive, and i suspected this one was a bit strange right from the beggining. He called me ugly and later, a transvestite, as if this part was somehow worse than the first. Well, i wish i was a transvestite, then i wouldn't have to worry about all the female insecurities that i have to face day in day out. I could just go whoosh! and they would all disapear and i could put on a football kit and have a game down pub with the lads. I bloody wish he was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugly? well, i've been called every name under the sun in my time, ugly isn't a frequent one. Its funny how people who daren't show their face, call other people names isn't it. Ugly? i suspect he's projecting himself outwardly. Im not scared of showing my face, i like it, i've always liked the way i look. I like the way other people look, when i think they are caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what most people call me, when they are being nasty to me, is crazy, or fruit cake. My parents call me selfish. Its funny, how different people can percieve the same person isnt it. Still, im not complaining, i reckon i look pretty dam good for my age, im not fat, im certainly not ugly, im married to someone that i think is god, and i have the most beautiful intellegent children i've ever seen (i would say that wouldn't i!). Every good parent thinks that, im sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyone who has found happiness, and companionship. anyone who has had children can understand what i am talking about. The people that live in the abstract.. well, let them get on with it, they can take their abstract and give it a cuddle when nobody comes to bed with them. when they feel alone they can feel proud of how intellegent they are. They can talk about their theories to the empty seat at the dinner table. When they feel like they are good looking they can look in the mirror and remind themselves of it. Nobody else cares, nobody else is around to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i continue to learn more about this movement, one day i suppose i will write a book on it. I'll stick my ugly transvestite picture on the back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sure it'll sell 1000 times better! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-6676715041341133306?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/6676715041341133306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=6676715041341133306&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6676715041341133306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6676715041341133306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/08/children-jungles-wierdos-and.html' title='children, jungles, wierdos and transvestites'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4529087879499549902</id><published>2007-08-25T08:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-06T08:23:48.546Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>men are just so logical, aren't they!</title><content type='html'>why do i keep hearing this statement from different areas of the male rights movement??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;men are logical and women are emotional and illogical...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, men are logical are they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men are so logical that they hijack aeroplanes and fly them into buildings to kill as many innocent people as possible don't they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men are so logical that they get married to a woman who steels their kids and all their money don't they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, its male logic that makes them drive too fast and therefore the unsafest drivers with highest insurance premiums isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, of course, its male logic that makes them pick up a gun and go and fight a war in a foriegn country based on a male politicians 'logical' lies right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah but then theres male logic in action when they eat so much they weight half of a ton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rs_oT1hzBGI/AAAAAAAAALQ/t9QqMvbRgLA/s1600-h/040920_halftonMan_hmed_3p_hmedium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102552330318054498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px" height="151" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rs_oT1hzBGI/AAAAAAAAALQ/t9QqMvbRgLA/s200/040920_halftonMan_hmed_3p_hmedium.jpg" width="197" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;male logic in action!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey, but wait lets look at the serial killer ted bundy who used to strangle his female victims. He got frazzled in the electric chair... wow, i have to hand it to you guys, your just so logical!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, then if thats your idea of logic, well, you're welcome to it xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, women, were not logical are we. When we are being intimidated by men, instead of arguing we become illogical to avoid the situation don't we. So, illogical isnt it, to run away from a bully..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;were so illogical that we commit far less violent crime, bring up far more human beings and have a far lower rate of heart attacks because, obviously, we cant handle the stress we've caused ourselves..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes female emotional responses are completely illogical aren't they.. we don't have to have sex with the next man down the street, we generally keep ourselves clean and we created a movement called feminism to stand up for ourselves as a group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, we're just so emotional and illogical, and you men.. you are just so logical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thing is, men, (i'll treat you as a group, because clearly, men, are a no more than a group of logical thinkers..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thing is, that you don't realise, that its &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; logic not ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are we learning yet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4529087879499549902?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4529087879499549902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4529087879499549902&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4529087879499549902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4529087879499549902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/08/men-are-just-so-logical-arent-they.html' title='men are just so logical, aren&apos;t they!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rs_oT1hzBGI/AAAAAAAAALQ/t9QqMvbRgLA/s72-c/040920_halftonMan_hmed_3p_hmedium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3460806509587111580</id><published>2007-08-20T10:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-08-20T15:34:09.000Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>to all the men in my life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;you never argue, you storm out&lt;br /&gt;you are terrified of arguing in public&lt;br /&gt;you always want to save face, in front of your friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do you do this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it that you are scared of, and why is it that you never let me know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RsltJ1hzAxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/x88JvPSltJE/s1600-h/2006_running_scared_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100728068728881938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RsltJ1hzAxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/x88JvPSltJE/s200/2006_running_scared_001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it that your protecting me from? you know.. i never asked you for it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it that is so scary that you cannot look at me and tell me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3460806509587111580?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3460806509587111580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3460806509587111580&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3460806509587111580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3460806509587111580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-ive-noticed-about-men-in-my-life.html' title='to all the men in my life...'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RsltJ1hzAxI/AAAAAAAAAIo/x88JvPSltJE/s72-c/2006_running_scared_001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-789259614757525995</id><published>2007-08-12T15:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-20T11:07:41.472Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spain'/><title type='text'>España</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rr9APPmFMzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/D3BXTHoUoTs/s1600-h/spain-cathedral.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097863933835162418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rr9APPmFMzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/D3BXTHoUoTs/s200/spain-cathedral.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;dear diary,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how do i start writing this? well i suppose i'm going to write down what i've experienced, thought about and felt over the last 4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my partner A. and i spend alot of our time travelling between countries, we work in Britain and whenever we get holidays we've always gone back to Spain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. is from there, yes i'm married to a spaniard, or 'spanish' as A. would prefer i called him as he hates the word spaniard. I suppose its not that nice a word is it? Both my daughters have dual nationality so A. is trying hard to make sure that they get an upbringing that reflects both their family origins, both spanish and from planet neptune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always respected that, in fact, i encouraged it, i always liked going to Spain and as a sociologist i was fascinated by its people, culture and history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spain has a unique modern history to that of the rest of western europe. It never took part in the second world war and the spanish base most of their recent identity on the result of the spanish civil war, won by Franco in 1938, shortly before the break out of the second world war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to Franco's victory Spain had for the first time elected a reformist left-wing government popular with the people. Franco's uprising crushed spains elected government and set up a dictatorship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Franco was a small awkward looking man, and i suspect alot of his ideology was based around his own inability to compete with better looking men. He outlawed public shows of affection, as he had never got any when young? his wife stayed with him for the duration of his premiership, but his daughter was always rumoured to be adopted and i have suspicions that Franco just couldn't get it up. He hated people who had healthy sex lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, wasn't hitler much the same? a slightly strange looking man (not THAT small though, which is a common misconception, hitler was actually around 5'9" so pretty average for a man of his generation). The only woman hitler ever really let himself desire was his neice Geli, and she commited suicide. Eva Brown was around for along time but did they really love each other? i doubt it. Hitler couldn't love anyone, neither could Franco, thats why they ended up the way they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both had strange fantasy ideas about what women should be, innocent, beautiful and compliant. Hardly reality is it. I think they both wanted to control women and they failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, Spain is probably due to Franco's repressive regime, a very conformist place, and although the young generations are slowly moving away from the past, when you walk down the main street in Santander, you would do well to spot a single old woman in trousers, or a single old man who was not wearing a chequed shirt and chinos. They all look the same, i suppose they were taught that when they were young, and nobody has ever stood up against it. Wierdos from planet neptune don't really fit in very well in spain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This type of repression, freedom of expression, is perhaps only marginally better than the muslim world and i think spending a lifetime conforming to Franco's bitter ideas, has led to many feelings of bitterness and resentment amongst the old generation in Spain. Old people in Santander STARE at you. They look at you like you are filth if you are not wearing what they think is correct. I can think of 5 or 6 seperate occasions over the last month when that has happend to me. It's very intimidating, and if you come from a country where its considered rude to stare (britain) and combine that with lots of insecurity complexes and general low self esteem (me) it can really take some getting over. Yeah i've felt like total shit on many occasions there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A. says that this is normal and you get used to it when you are born there. I can't get used to people staring nastily at me. Its horrible and it makes me feel like i am worthless. Its so hard to look them back in the eye, and im the type of person that avoids peoples stares when i can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are things i like about spain, but this isn't one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feminism hasn't yet hit Spain and as a young(ish) woman you have to be careful not to let them get to you. Some men in spain, especially older men, think it is their god given right to make you feel like shit. Its not just older men though, younger men have a very low opinion of women, i was out walking one night and it was a nice evening, one of those when it's warm and you can hear crickets singing in the background, when two young guys walk past me, stare at me and one of them whispers something to the other and they both laugh. They then walk on and shout something at a young girl across the road. Morons, they like feeling powerful by making women feel afraid and scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only irony is that if you knew anything about Spain, you'd think these two guys were the typical spanish moron, who next week will be in the obituaries column of the local paper, having died in a motorcycle accident, crushed under some car somewhere, driven by another &lt;em&gt;gilipollas &lt;/em&gt;as if he was fernando alonso in a residential area full of children playing. Macho man is alive and well in spain, and he will mow you down if you don't get out of his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they are so clever aren't they? until they are dead of course..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spain needs some kind of feminine resistance to this, how far it goes is something that needs to be watched. Macho man in spain needs a leash putting round his neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am aware of the evils of feminism in Britain, and english men are sometimes so ridiculously feminised, but something has to be done in Spain. Feminists are scary, but they normally aren't behind the wheel of a 10 ton truck trying to mow you down as you drive down the &lt;em&gt;autopista&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thought of how bad it must be in the muslim world is even more scary, but then who cares.. im not going to live in tehran anytime soon i hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would complain wouldn't i though? im a woman and i dont understand that men are 'slaves to testosterone' do i? hahaha i dont care, it doesn't give you the right to ruin my life does it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats what i was told by a friend of my fathers recently, that men are 'slaves to testosterone'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, thats probably why he has 5 kids to 3 different mothers. such a slave isn't he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im pleased to be back for now, and my hair always looks much better in england. It gets so greasy in spain and looks like i've been licked and spat out by a cow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah and i've lost 1kg! that has to be good news.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-789259614757525995?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/789259614757525995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=789259614757525995&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/789259614757525995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/789259614757525995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/08/espaa.html' title='España'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rr9APPmFMzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/D3BXTHoUoTs/s72-c/spain-cathedral.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-997164135856223347</id><published>2007-07-17T07:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-23T09:56:27.775Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spain'/><title type='text'>see you soon im going on holiday!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RpxtgcYU0xI/AAAAAAAAAGo/KB0KhbP9sqU/s1600-h/sardinero.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088062083163280146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RpxtgcYU0xI/AAAAAAAAAGo/KB0KhbP9sqU/s200/sardinero.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;im going to spain and i'll be back in about a month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye bye hope it doesn't rain too much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-997164135856223347?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/997164135856223347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=997164135856223347&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/997164135856223347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/997164135856223347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/07/see-you-soon.html' title='see you soon im going on holiday!!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RpxtgcYU0xI/AAAAAAAAAGo/KB0KhbP9sqU/s72-c/sardinero.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3657880723940594584</id><published>2007-07-15T16:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-20T11:07:41.473Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spain'/><title type='text'>hola cariño</title><content type='html'>no se si leeras eso cariño, pero lo escribo por si acaso te sientes soli..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eres mi amor&lt;br /&gt;mi mundo y&lt;br /&gt;mi dios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y ya nos vemos dentro de un par de dias!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mis padres me han tratado bien estos dias, por fin&lt;br /&gt;no puedo esperar comer una napolitana al lado tuyo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enseguida estoy alli..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d. xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3657880723940594584?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3657880723940594584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3657880723940594584&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3657880723940594584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3657880723940594584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/07/hola-cario.html' title='hola cariño'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3380468967441430085</id><published>2007-07-12T21:53:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T11:04:09.128Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>flowers, not guns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rpaof8YU0wI/AAAAAAAAAGg/cw0GGA4_xcQ/s1600-h/fruity1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i realised something today, im no-where near as tough as i thought i was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;there is a guy in the anti-misandry forum who is taking all his personal hatred out in the world on me, im really scared of him. It occured to me just how you can get into situations like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i really really tried to be nice to him, i told him about my own insecurities and how maybe we could help each other, but he wouldn't accept it, and in fact, he was really aggresive against me and im glad that the internet is anonymous because he is really scary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know i can be a bitch, and i can wind people up and be insensitive sometimes, but i dont deserve what this person has been doing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was talking to another friend of mine on the same forum, and he says that sometimes people use internet forums to 'unload their emotional baggage', that i should just leave him to it and try and avoid him. He's right, sometimes i feel so close to men, and other times i feel like a world away. Today i expeirenced both of those feelings, so im tired and exhausted from an emotional roller coaster day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;still.. i had chance to go shopping and i bought myself a couple of dresses, so i feel good again now. Time to become feminine again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i cant compete with men, i can't threaten them and i felt really scared today for the first time in a while. My partner is away on holiday and my kids are there too for a few days, so im feeling really lonely and i suppose any male attention i get right now, is just like.. wow, i love you so much. isnt life funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i offered this guy my hand in friendship, which is something i dont do normally these days, im scared of being hurt, but for the first time in my life, im actually glad i did the right thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;he rejected it, he wants to hurt me, and make me feel like he feels. Well im sorry, but i dont, i feel good about myself, i gave you a chance to be friends with me, i could have cared for you, and worried about you.. treated you with love and with understanding, and you have thrown that away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;its funny how when you fear something so much you stop doing it, but then when you do it and it goes wrong, it can be a new found freedom in your life, something that can no longer scare you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i haven't offered my hand in friendship for a long time, because i was scared of being rejected. now i've dont it, and been rejected, i feel no fear. Im happy with myself and maybe it can start a new chapter in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;tommorow, im going on holiday with my dad. he is a very caring, but highly emotional and reactionary person. I think he's very unhappy, he constantly searches for respect from his male friends, what is it about men that they feel so worried about how their friends see them, they are obssessed with status. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think im going to find something else new tommorow -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i like this story, im getting better at reading it. Im not a big and tough, im a weak, emotional, doormat.. but i do know how to love, and i do know how to care for people, and you know what, im going to try not to be afraid to show it anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i even made a picture of myself, with the words 'get fucked' in front of me. Thats the person they wanted me to become. The person that they are, people who have no feelings, people who do not get hurt because they dont know how to love. its not going to be me anymore. i am a pathetic doormat girl, a sponge for aggresive men to punch and kick me. you know what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;im going to smile at them. and im going to hand out flowers, not guns..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3380468967441430085?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3380468967441430085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3380468967441430085&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3380468967441430085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3380468967441430085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/07/flowers-not-guns.html' title='flowers, not guns'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7858269959685589129</id><published>2007-07-01T13:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-20T11:08:07.069Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><title type='text'>harriet harman, tactics, the devil and wearing prada</title><content type='html'>men do need rights?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;over the last two or three months, i have been lost in thought about this thing called 'mens movement'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i started of by trying to understand my own interests in it, and where was it going to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still dont really know the answer to that, but what i have learned about men who are within this movement, is that they do have a nice sense of comradery. The thing that worries me is that is it is based mostly on misunderstanding the female gender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clearly there are things that they are distressed about. It is totally wrong that a feminist should have a voice, and not a man against her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;labour just elected harriet harman as vice president - i think she is a airheaded bitch with a chip on her shoulder because she's been victimised as a woman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a contradiction? second in charge of the country - and victimised as a woman. Wow amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's going to try and destroy families even more. She's gonna try and make even more women feel the self obsessed pain that she feels. One day, harriet, you'll grow up. i promise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i should just start spouting out femo propaganda too, maybe i'll become super woman as well. I hope not. because sorry harriet, but i've got more class in my little finger than you have in your entire body..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided for the moment that i am going to be a tom boy. With it has come a new sense of identity. how long will it last i dont know, but im going to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that i will never be accepted into the mens movement, as a woman who thinks for herself, its not possible. I have come to that conclusion, i hope one day i will find out im wrong but im not convinced. I cant argue like them, god knows i've tried. It feels wrong. I love men because they have different talents to me. I hope one day they might feel the same, but hey, c'est la vie..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so at the moment im thinking.. fuck women, and fuck men. I've had enough of all of you. Get fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont think i've ever really been nasty to a man in my life, but then i would say that. I've always been fascinated by things i didnt understand properly, but i think most people are the opposite. They are intolerant of things they dont understand - so, feminists hate men because they fear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway yesterday i watched 'the devil wears prada' and i think it is quite a symbol of changing times. Its message is not one of female superiority, but one of warning. I think women are starting to get the idea, that they are not anything special, and they will fall down the same path as selfish men did before them. Of course, they will never understand that the men before them, were the same as them. no. When men fail, its due to other circumstances, that we're not interested in, isn't it Emily?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boyfriend was a nice carachter but i couldn't help but feel he was fake. Men dont behave like that do they? i hope not, for their sake, not mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what are my 'tactics' - i've been acused of having tactics! oh yeah.. i wish!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my tactics at the moment are these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. get rid of all paranoias i have ascociated with my gender.&lt;br /&gt;2. make men in the mens movement learn how to value themselves, not just their opinions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. learn how to be a woman again, and then stick it up their arses.&lt;br /&gt;4. help people that i think are good as much as i can.&lt;br /&gt;5. have as much fun as i can, im 30 next year.. life is really short isnt it.&lt;br /&gt;6. never tell another irish man a false name, and always smile back at men who make me feel uncomfortable, instead of growling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxxxxx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7858269959685589129?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7858269959685589129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7858269959685589129&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7858269959685589129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7858269959685589129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/07/harriet-harman-tactics-and-devil.html' title='harriet harman, tactics, the devil and wearing prada'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7813130690789741041</id><published>2007-06-19T15:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-20T11:08:39.669Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>fee-mo-para-noi-ya</title><content type='html'>im going to write about all the thing i hate about my body, who knows, it might just make me feel better (although, i doubt it). Then im going to talk about the things i like, maybe that will help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate the fact that i have straight shoulders. when i wear summer tops, they have to be super feminine or i think i look like i have mans shoulders. i dont really feel comfortable in excessively feminine tops, so i either feel really self conscious about looking like a man, or really self conscious about looking like a fairy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hips are not wide enough in relation to my shoulders, so again, i have to try and wear baggy trousers, which doesnt really work in summer. Again, skirts look better but, again, i dont want to look like sugar plum fairy either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my tits are too small. i am size 38B. and barely a B at that. when you couple that with wide shoulders and small hips, i look really straight and not very curvy. Im like totally paranoid about what i wear everyday. i wish i could not be like that, but im lost as to how to avoid it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i have a big nose, not enormous, but my mum's is the same. it never bothered me really, but i think you dont notice it until you hear other people who dont have big noses joking about people who do. what do i do to hide that? its difficult, but wearing my hair up tends to make it look a bit less harsh.. i like wearing my hair down, but i prefer wearing pony tails for that reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, there we are.. hips, shoulders, nose and tits, i dont think there is anything else??..... nope..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, lemme talk about the things i like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like my hair, and i like it everyday more because its getting longer and longer and longer.. i went through a stage of having short hair, what the hell was i thinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i've got pretty hands, so i like that, what else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like my tits, because in the same way they are too small, they tend to defy gravity a bit better and i have great sexy nipples which feel really sensitive too, so not all bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i've got fairly good skin tone too, but then i've heard lots of women say that, and i looked at them and thought, nah, actually, you look like a sun dried banana woman. So thats an easy one to mix up isnt it??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my legs are long, so good? but i'd rather be a bit smaller, im 5'9".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah and good teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there we are..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during writing this i just realised how bloody vane and narcisistic i am, because my personality has not entered into my thoughts at all, about things i like and things i dont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like the fact that i can be honest with myself, but i hate the fact that i am a paranoid, wierdo woman who is often scared to look people in the eye because im so self conscious about my body.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7813130690789741041?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7813130690789741041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7813130690789741041&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7813130690789741041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7813130690789741041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/06/fee-mo-para-noi-ya.html' title='fee-mo-para-noi-ya'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5460414447140343456</id><published>2007-06-06T23:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-07T08:19:52.417Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmdLafyf27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/uDb6KBj6S3o/s1600-h/Heart-Blending.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073106423838137266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmdLafyf27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/uDb6KBj6S3o/s200/Heart-Blending.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is a short post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;today someone said something to me, that was so beautfiul that i have to write it down here..&lt;br /&gt;it made my cry..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'everyday when i start the day, the first thing i think..&lt;br /&gt;i have a heartbeat..&lt;br /&gt;the next thing i think..&lt;br /&gt;i can breath!&lt;br /&gt;its the start of a great day'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aint that just lovely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks I. you deserve the best honey xxx&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5460414447140343456?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5460414447140343456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5460414447140343456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5460414447140343456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5460414447140343456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/06/this-is-short-post.html' title=''/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmdLafyf27I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/uDb6KBj6S3o/s72-c/Heart-Blending.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-2237473850158527433</id><published>2007-06-06T09:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-07T08:30:47.861Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>june evenings and womens football teams...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmaB9vyf25I/AAAAAAAAAGA/2nx6zzxpym0/s1600-h/168931708_7671571a93.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072884928079715218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmaB9vyf25I/AAAAAAAAAGA/2nx6zzxpym0/s200/168931708_7671571a93.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;on monday, i was teaching a spanish class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somebody found a pink cloudy my little pony or something like that, pen on the the floor.&lt;br /&gt;someone offered it to the only male student in the class! he says... it cant be &lt;em&gt;MINE&lt;/em&gt; can it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so why cant it be yours? what is it about the male social role that means they will not let themselves show a certain aspect of their personality. Poor C. i hope he doesnt mind me using him as an example?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been thinking about aspects of being female, where can i do things, where can i not? i think the most difficult thing about being a woman, is it is generally less acceptable to be &lt;em&gt;scruffy.&lt;/em&gt; when you get a guy who walks into class wearing the same clothes that probably havent been washed in 5 months, nobody notices, or they just say.. he's just a young man. If i did it, i think it would signify some kind of sexual disfunction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else? well.. going out for a walk on your own past 6pm, people start wondering what you are doing. i have a river near to me, so when my partner is back from work it means i can escape for 15 minutes from my house. its june, its light, and the evenings are wonderful arent they? i love walking but im starting to realise that it makes me feel a bit uneasy these days. i'm not really sure what im saying here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose if someone found a football on the floor and they gave it to me, i'd probably be like.. er.. why are you giving it to me! (even though i love football). i suppose when that happens, i'm scared of the way other people view my sexual and gender identity? maybe thats what it is. I think everyone has male and female inside them are they are terrified to express it because nobody else does..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if a man picks up a pink pen, it must mean his is gay, wierd? maybe even a paedophile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my god isnt this world bloody crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no i mean it, this world is totally and completely round the bend..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i think that because he makes an issue of the pen being pink it does show some kind of conflict within him. Its like, i want to pick up this pen, but, there is NO WAY im doing it! im a man and men arent allowed to write with pink pens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've talked about the male role being very squeezed up, just like a lemon thats been used to make lemon juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think these days, women are like the lemon juice and men are the squeezed up remains. You cant have one without the other, but the circumstances are very different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the question has to be for men, how can they change that around, how can they make it so it doesn't threaten their entire existence if they pick up a pink pen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've talked alot about this with men, both in reality and in the internet, and im torn between two arguments, one that says im right, and men need to get over these little fears they have.. and others who say, men dont want to become like women!! men want to go their own way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i dont know what this means at all. im not sure they know what it means either? i hope they do, but i doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides, how is using a pink pen becoming like a woman?? my god, they really do not understand at all do they? a pink pen, is something that might have made a young kid, probably a girl, smile sometime 5 years ago. lets get a bit of perspective here!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, while i was out walking yesterday, there was a group of women footballers practising. the coach (a man, as per usual) kept looking at me.. im 5'9" and i can do 100 kick ups with a football.. he must have thought, hmm, is this a member of my team turning up late?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, im not in a womans football team, and although i like football, something i saw in asda the other day really put me of it totally..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a womens team was collecting for a new strip. it was white and blue stripes with white socks. they were offering to do the packing in return for a small contribution, to be made in a bucket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the bucket it read.... &lt;strong&gt;'the future of football is female...&lt;/strong&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didnt make a contribution, and thankfully the guy collecting (mangina) didnt bother asking me. I am a woman, but you know what, women are CRAP at football. Im about as good as it gets and compared to any bloke down the street im rubbish. I went through a phase in my mid teens where i thought that i was as physically able as a man. I thought i could objectify my feelings like them, but.. a few arm wrestles and a couple of games of table football later, and i had changed my mind... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can get bitter about things the other sex does better than me. but, thank god i came to that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;conclusion as soon as i did. I learned to apreciate them instead of trying to be like them. Although deep down we're all the same aren't we?? what contradictions i live with inside myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh well.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, anyway, the future of football is definately &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; female, and if it is, then football has no future. I love watching the way the men move around, how they drive and move the football around the pitch, the passion, the commitment that they show. I love the passion of it all, its something that feminism is scared of. well it doesnt scare me.. its brill. i love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;womens football? balls of fat running around with a pony tail wiggling at the back? you cant tell which one is the ball and which one is the player can you? so....thanks, but no thanks. Dont try and tempt me into something that im not good at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what does this mean? well, it occured to me just how deep routed the feminist agenda is in our minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A man collecting for a womans football team, with a bucket saying the future of football is female!...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;and, in a national supermarket chain&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if they had asked me for a contribution, i would have said, 'i would have contributed, but i prefer watching men play, and as they have no future, why contribute!!!' or is that one of those thing i wished i had said, when really i'd not have said anything? who knows. as a woman though i think i have a responsibility to point these things out. The situation men are in is that they cannot even stand up forthemselves anymore. maybe if i start the ball rolling??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my god and people call me a feminist. that really gets on my nerves. I am not a feminist, feminists believe in women, MRA's believe in men. Lucia Vega believes in lucia vega and a hand full of men and women that i met in my life, on the internet and in my family. They tend to be left handed, but not always. I always like left handed people. They are normally a bit wierd, like me. But the really wierd ones are left handed and right footed, or right handed and left footed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watch out for them!!!! im left handed and left footed. but i use scissors with my right hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, dont get me wrong, some men do have a hell of a lot to learn from some women too. something the mens movement has not even tried to address. the mens movement certainly does not want the gaping differences between some men pointing out. they hate me when i do it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah and has anyone noticed just how enormous the new generation of young men are.. i was in the park yesterday, and there were a group of them lying in the sun, and throwing a football around. they were enormous, big shoulders tanned in the sun, all of them at least 6 foot 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well at least they are getting fed properly, so its not all bad men, is it? somebody is looking after you somewhere....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-2237473850158527433?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/2237473850158527433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=2237473850158527433&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2237473850158527433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/2237473850158527433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/06/july-evenings-and-womens-football-teams.html' title='june evenings and womens football teams...'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmaB9vyf25I/AAAAAAAAAGA/2nx6zzxpym0/s72-c/168931708_7671571a93.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-971548511320308644</id><published>2007-05-30T09:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-30T09:40:14.553Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>the little unimportant things that can change everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rl1FZpezSdI/AAAAAAAAAFw/TPQqPQXjnm8/s1600-h/unmade_bed_bw_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070285062423136722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rl1FZpezSdI/AAAAAAAAAFw/TPQqPQXjnm8/s200/unmade_bed_bw_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;when i feel down, when sometimes it seems like their is no hope for the future, i go and lie in bed and wrap myself up in the covers. Its not a big change in my life, its just a little thing, but it makes me feel less alone. It helps me pass the bad feeling and unhappy emotions sometimes when i get down,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think its to do with low oestrogen levels, but im not a doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i go to sleep i always like sleeping with something stuffed inbetween my legs, a pillow, the duvet cover... anything, i dont know why that is, i think i've always like the feel of things next to me, when nothing touches me i feel like i dont exist..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life can be difficult sometimes, when you have two little children running around asking constantly for this and that, then when you go to grandparents house, suddenly they dont care about you anymore, its all about grandma! it can really make you feel unloved, but its in the nature of children to go to the sun that shines the most right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'estar al sol que mas calienta...'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im a pisces, i think we are all a bit like me, too reflective and we dont live enough. We are lost in our heads most of the time... although if i'd been born two hours earlier i'd be aquarius, although i guess both make me a water girl anyway so, we are all a bit like that..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isnt it funny how birthdays seem to go in periods? all of my family are either born in late november - december time (sagitarius) or late january - february (aquarius), OR in may (taurus and gemini)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my partner however is a scorpio. its wierd.. every single long term relationship i've had has been with a scorpion... they have a sting in the tail im told. Aren't they water too? i get on with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea why this is, i dont know anyone who was born in the summer at all, and yet in may, practically everyday i know someone who has a birthday..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to be a scientist and never believed in any of this kind of stuff but lately i've become a lot more feeling orientated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wear my hair in a pony tail all the time now because for some reason i dont feel comfortable wearing it down anymore. does that have any significance? who knows, i dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i've been pretty down over the last week or so, probably due as much to the weather as anything else, but sometimes, when i feel like that, the bed covers are my best friend. They reflect the warmth that i sometimes want to feel and dont get in the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not saying that they solve anything, once i get up all the fears, paranoias and insecurities are still there, but its a start isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont really want to talk about why i feel down, i have my reasons and they are pretty depressing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, the little things like wrapping ourselves in our bed covers, and stuffing pillows between our legs can help us change our emotions and can be so important. They can give us hope where just before there did not appear to be any.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;so i am saying that next time you feel down, wrap yourself up, cover your head and pretend that the whole world outside no longer exists. i do that now and it makes me feel ok again, like somebody cares.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-971548511320308644?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/971548511320308644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=971548511320308644&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/971548511320308644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/971548511320308644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/dont-lose-hope.html' title='the little unimportant things that can change everything'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rl1FZpezSdI/AAAAAAAAAFw/TPQqPQXjnm8/s72-c/unmade_bed_bw_lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4535923974760472559</id><published>2007-05-20T08:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-20T10:15:06.110Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>why do young men withdraw from society?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RlATxJezScI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FIaFovQ_twM/s1600-h/prostitution-drug-watch-45_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066571315871435202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RlATxJezScI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FIaFovQ_twM/s200/prostitution-drug-watch-45_4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;why do young men withdraw from society?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a difficult question to answer right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well im not pretending to be up-to-date on the ins and outs of this question but i can give my own viewpoint from what i can see. I told myself long ago at university that i would never close down my creative thought just because i did not have facts to back it up. It is a recipe for disaster. Human nature and facts, dont mix very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do men withdraw?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, to know completely you would have to interview every single one of them, impossible right? yes.. and even if you could, how do you know they are telling the truth? you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so its left to people to theorise isnt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think young men withdraw from society because its been stolen from them. Where these days can a young man express himself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;football? no, women's footballs on the increase isnt it? and its only an elite that perform on tele anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bar situation. something MRA's never understand about women, is that they only ever notice the ones that catch their eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was a teenager, like most of my friends, we used to go to the bar, stand around, getting drunk and hope and pray that some guy somewhere would come upto us and start some sort of interaction. It rarely happend, neither to me, or to my friends. The attention always goes to the ones that catch the eye. you know what? ALL the men focus on them, so they are on a hiding to nothing right? only a very small amount of men ever manage to catch this type of women, and it usually ends in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rest spend their time fighting with the others, and inventing some bravado story about what a man they are, when the truth is, that someone else got the girl. Young men need to recognise this. they need to reinvent what it is to be a failure as a man. You are not a failure, you just dont use your head enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think lots of men grow out of this type of behaviour as they enter their twenties, but rejection by the alpha female, is not constructive is it? so. one reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why else might they withdraw? well, they are failing at schools arent they? or, at least, they are being beaten by girls. Im not a woman who will stand here and say girls are equally intellegent as men. In my experience men have a high intellectual level that seldom touches reality. They need the right woman to guide them along the right path, but when that happens they become unstoppable..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, schools are no longer set up for boys. Read a spanish textbook? its full of pretty pictures, smiling faces.. and to be frank, its crap. To learn a language you need rigid grammar and blank boring exercises. I know this, and obviously feminising everything just turns boys (and to be honest, alot of girls) off. Smiling faces in a spanish book appeals to the lowest common denominator. Boys need to see language in action, they need to feel how it works, not sit in a boring class surrounded by silent and boring girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i was a secondary teacher, i'd make them play football using spanish terms...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'dame el balon!'&lt;br /&gt;'chuta, joder!'&lt;br /&gt;'despeja, cabron!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats how some men learn better isnt it? i dont know. not all of them i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;popular culture? well yeah, i watched TV last night and when the ads came on i counted how many adverts where 'gynocentric' (focused on women), at least 50% of them had a female carachter playing the main part. The others didnt really count as being gender based..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;granted, i was watching desperate housewives, so its not going to be representative.. perhaps during the big match between man u and chelsea, the adverts are mostly male orientated. i dont know, i'll have to count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this isnt good for women either? it just makes us into empty vessels filled with unwanted needs that we can never fulfill.. so we look to men to fill this void created by advertising, and when they cannot, we blame them, and we try to change them until they fill our new found desires. So, nobody wins. The truth is, if it were upto me, i'd shoot the whole lot of advertising companies. Good job its not upto me i suppose..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, what that means, is that men have no role at all in society, and women just consume. again, nobody wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, its not all the fault of women. How many young men do i see when i go to the park with my daughters? not many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men do not interact with children enough. i cant stress this enough. The male role i suppose does not encompass enough legroom to allow them to smile and enjoy childish games. Most women love being with children because it enables them to be a child again. I think men see this as not part of their role. Its no wonder they dont smile very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, is it really true, are men withdrawing from society??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, suicide levels are clearly very high amongst men. so that would suggest they are, but if you look at all the positions of political power they are almost always occupied by men, white men, normally. Hardly a sign of withdrawal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, what i think has happend, is that a 'cliche' or 'elite' of men has taken control of the world, and they dont want anyone else to join their gang. Women have never been allowed into power until now really, but what feminism missed, is that NEITHER were 90% of men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is were men and woman have to see our common goal. We are both oppressed by a overpowering class of people. Not just women, not just men. Please, i hope that one day, the MRA's and the feminist, will see their common interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know the solution, but first you have to identify the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feminism has also developed in a similar way, we are left with a 'cliche' of women, normally rabid man haters, who dont want anyone to join their club. At least, anyone who disagrees with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont see any future for women in following feminism at all. Eventually we will end up with the same situation we have now, accept with that cliche of women in charge. The ordinary woman on the street is no nearer to power than she was before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see young men walking around, waddling their shoulders, wearing their baggy trousers and oversized jumpers. Their jeans are so low down that i wonder how they stay up. have they withdrawn from society? more and more of them these days carry guns. Only a few months ago a young 17 year old was blown away not more than 1/2 mile away from me. Im scared, it terrifies me that these crazy mindless adolescents have the power to destroy everything that i have built in my life, and my children, for nothing other than a testosterone impulse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose im lucky, they look at me and dont see a threat. How could i be threatening to them? i wierdo woman walking down the street with a buggy and two small kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, that 17 year old wasnt so lucky. Young men must be terrified to walk around these days. Each one of them so wants to prove what a man they are, and they now increasingly have the power to destroy. is this a sign of withdrawal? yes, they feel so desperate inside themselves that they have no value for either their own life, or that of someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what has happend to them to become like this? what is missing from mens lives that they hate life so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are they not taking part and instead killing themselves and each other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't answer this question alone, i can only speculate and i think i do it badly alot of the time. I'm well aware of that having visited enough MRA websites and been called every name under the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, im a feminist am i? well.. listen to this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rape is a primary destroyer of masculinity. I suppose most men, if they were allowed would go around raping, or at least, trying to have sex with as many women as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rape, yes its a law that represses masculinity isnt it? perhaps they would all feel better if they could get the sexual release they strive for so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well.. i think the first step to sorting out the problem with men, is legalising prostitution. If they want to fuck, let them.. they have to pay for it and its not a problem, some women enjoy it. I've no idea how they can enjoy it, but they do. Good for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think the reason it's illegal, is it maintains the ordinary man from thinking about moving up in the world. he is too bothered about getting rid of his sexual needs, and will do anything to get a release that is missing, blow people away, slit his wrists, screw up his school work. Anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, thats the first step. after that, its upto men to decide, i cant help them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4535923974760472559?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4535923974760472559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4535923974760472559&amp;isPopup=true' title='50 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4535923974760472559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4535923974760472559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/why-do-young-men-withdraw-from-society.html' title='why do young men withdraw from society?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RlATxJezScI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FIaFovQ_twM/s72-c/prostitution-drug-watch-45_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>50</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4796496314532620504</id><published>2007-05-14T16:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-20T10:14:51.999Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>lonely moments and how i deal with them</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RkiZBZgUCuI/AAAAAAAAAFg/hT3HZ59xtkM/s1600-h/20051009221155_rainy_day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064466030283459298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RkiZBZgUCuI/AAAAAAAAAFg/hT3HZ59xtkM/s200/20051009221155_rainy_day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel lonely. i always feel lonely at this time of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im stuck at home my children are with their grandparents. im waiting to go out to teach a class and my partner is working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i feel like this, because im bored i normally end up looking in the mirror at myself brushing my hair this way and then that.. then in a pony tail, up and down, until eventually it goes back to where it started originally. then i start focusing on all the things i hate about the way i look. the way the light catches my eyes, the way it changes the colour of skin tone i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i get bored and think.. danielle, thats enough self destruction for now, then i go into the other room and i turn on the internet and i see flashing lights, forums with opinions, irritating songs that i dont want to listen to. I'll check my email! oh no.. another message from Panda software? who the hell are they and why do they send me email..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friends reunited says that new members have joined! no, they havent! they all joined 6 years ago like me, and nobody cares anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i watch TV, or use the internet, i feel like the whole world is a party that nobody bothered to invite me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what do i do? i sit down here and write down my thoughts as if that was somehow going to change the nature of how i am. well i suppose it gets rid of the bad feeling for a while doesnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sit with my legs crossed one over the other as if that somehow gives me the feeling that another person is with me, that somebody else is there. Then i wedge my hand inbetween my thighs, its nice and warm in there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've realised that if i fold my arms i feel more secure as if there were a barrier between me and the world outside. but i cant go and teach with my arms folded can i? oh dear..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sit here and write this blog, as if anyone else was listening, as if anyone really cared about my life or the reason i am here in this place. is this what we all do? do we all sit in silence from time to time and fill our lives with empty feelings, and pretend obsessions. it has no inherent meaning at all does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im sitting staring at the black wall that is life again. My dad always told me that life was neutral. i suppose the meaning is what you give it, and when you feel alone, that is the meaning that it has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could go into town, and watch the rat race take place, people running around in suits and ties, trying to look important, as if somehow that let them escape the reality of life. Young men walking in a strange way to try and show to the world that they have some importance? they dont do they? neither does the girl who sits there in her tracksuit top that is too small for her fiddling with her over sized earing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well, anyway, i feel better now. at least the sun came out this afternoon, i couldn't face another cold and dark rainy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rain makes my life go out of focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;so what do i wear to go to teach? yeah.. that old black hoody top of mine.. no, i dont like that anymore it makes me feel black and wet. what about that other top you bought 5 months ago that you try on every week and never wear because it makes you look to rigid and manly. well, maybe i'll try it again next week. how about the red tracksuit top with the white laces? no, that ones to warm and it'll make your cheeks go red when you laugh. well ok, lets try that t-shirt that you bought in asda last week? noooo its too adolescent and its got pink writing on it its not really suitable for a 29 year old teacher.... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ok.. black hoody top it is. AGAIN..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;better get on preparing personal pronouns i suppose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so there you are.. my solution to loneliness and temporary depression is, cross your legs over, stick your hand inbetween them, try not to look in the mirror, and write something down, in a diary. Oh yeah, and put on music or the television, i forgot to mention that too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it kinda works for me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4796496314532620504?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4796496314532620504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4796496314532620504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4796496314532620504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4796496314532620504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/lonely.html' title='lonely moments and how i deal with them'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RkiZBZgUCuI/AAAAAAAAAFg/hT3HZ59xtkM/s72-c/20051009221155_rainy_day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-1904809878743154110</id><published>2007-05-11T11:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-01T18:01:54.232Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evolution'/><title type='text'>evolution, and how it can tell us who we are?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmBfA5ezSeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/S7GY3zglatw/s1600-h/spring_flowers_T1669.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071157649453828578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmBfA5ezSeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/S7GY3zglatw/s200/spring_flowers_T1669.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RkRXB5gUCtI/AAAAAAAAAFY/nHjomDG9FwY/s1600-h/Orange_flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;last night i was lying awake at 3am. it was one of those nights where i can feel my heart beating really loudly. It makes me feel ill, because it reminds me of the fine line that we all live in, between life and death. Just this beating thing, that never stops. thats all it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always wondered what it was about me, when i was 14, that made men feel they could poor out their emotions whenever i gave the faintest impression that i might understand them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im a sensitive person. maybe other people dont notice their heart beating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i normally see through the brave face people put on right through to their deepest inner worries and fears. I dont know why im like that, and neither do i know if im right most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i assumed that they did it because they didn't like me. they didnt fancy me, i was like their mother. they felt comfortable with me because i represented no threat to them. neither in love or in competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know, i never had much luck with the opposite sex at that age. I had my first proper relationship when i was 18, and it didnt last very long because we lived too far apart. I went through life up until that point thinking that i was totally unattractive to the opposite sex, so i just assumed nobody could ever like me. I met my long term partner, to who i am married 8 years ago. He was the only person i ever met who made me feel like i was loved. There are thousands of people who want to poor out their inner souls to you given the chance, but very few who actually care about the person they are doing it too. my partner is the first person i met, who didnt poor out their inner soul at the press of a button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what am i saying? im saying that men have emotions, i know its true.. it happend to me too often that i was the agony aunt. but at that age i also learned that they did not care about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really dont know much about this new phenomena of a 'privilidged princess'. i've never felt like that. I think lots of men dont like them because they envy them. they want to become like them, accept in plan-ken instead of plan-barbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, where am i going with this? i dont really know, but it has occured to me today that most women arent like me in that way. Im sure there are some men who are like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dad told me that evolution is based around a group of people in the african plains. that we have not adapted from that, the new city-dwelling world, is nothing in terms of evolutionary time frames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he says that for a group of humans to survive that group needs to represent every aspect of human needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we need some crazy people who will jump down the cliff to find the new pastures. maybe these manifest themselves in suicide bombers today. They have no place in the modern world..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we need some people who go out and find the food. we need some who will look after the new generation, some who are organised, and others who are creative.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they say that men were hunters, and women stayed back and looked after the children, and picked berries dont they?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;well even so, within the hunters, you need some people who chase, others who catch and others that know which way the animals are going right? so, men, can be different from each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Within the female groups, some need to stop others from eating all the berries, some need to find the berries and others need to make sure the berries are not poisonous ones... so women can be different from each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know this is a very basic example, but the point im trying to make, is men are not all the same, neither are women. If you believe in darwin then evolution, has made sure we are different..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the more i look at people the more i see it.. I used to think that difference between individuals was a reason why evolution couldn't be right. how could we evolve to be so different individually, from each other? but when you think of a group, it suddently makes more sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so im thinking that we must somewhere need some people who are emotional blankets like me. i just havent worked out why yet. I do serve a purpose, somewhere.. and so, maybe, do you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps the key to understanding ourselves is working out who we are and how we fit into that african plains group of people that we are still evolved to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for some reason we have this switch inside us, that makes us think we are all the same. I dont think its true. Feminism was beaten by it, and im worried that the MRM will be too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-1904809878743154110?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/1904809878743154110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=1904809878743154110&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1904809878743154110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1904809878743154110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/maybe-we-should-ask-where-do-i-fit-in.html' title='evolution, and how it can tell us who we are?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RmBfA5ezSeI/AAAAAAAAAF4/S7GY3zglatw/s72-c/spring_flowers_T1669.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4870946686498672265</id><published>2007-05-06T10:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-15T09:02:58.165Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>material girls, make up and the human condition.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2y8pgUCsI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/wlcB_QHkuiQ/s1600-h/green~flower~02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061398311237585602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2y8pgUCsI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/wlcB_QHkuiQ/s200/green~flower~02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;every now and again i come across a blog that makes me stand back and think, wow, you're interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found one today. im not going to put the link on my website because the last time i did that they didnt like it. but anyway i think this guy is impressive in his own masculine way:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://truthformen.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://truthformen.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he talks about things that i've thought about myself. Madonna and her song, material girl. What is she talking about? he thinks she's talking about women, whereas, i know, that she is talking about herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neneh Cherry is another one from that generation. Kisses on the wind. Manchild. She talks about men and how they should treat her. Perhaps though, she was a more caring person than madonna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://truthformen.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-makeup-reveals-about-character-of.html"&gt;http://truthformen.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-makeup-reveals-about-character-of.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea how he finds his information on make up. i'd like to know. i would also like to know, if he is aware, that he could be VERY wrong too? Its a very risky thing to do, judge people on the way they look. But, he's right. they ask for it dont they?? dont they??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im a woman who refuses to wear make up, apart from the occasional time that i feel my eyes need a bit of lightining up, hence a little bit of white eye enhancer. Having two kids, i can look like a tired old hag otherwise. but, hey i can laugh about it. I dont wear it, because it makes me feel self conscious, like im trying to portray something about myself, which i dont like to do. I try so hard to make my ideas my personality, not my appearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what about men and the way they look?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heres three of Lucia Vega's own stereotyped ideas, after all, all's fair in love and war right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men with complete hairlines past the age of 25. NEVER trust them. In fact, i only ever trust men who have experience some degree of male pattern baldness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men who part their hair at the side, are either gay, or repressed bisexuals. dont get involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men with long hair in a pony tail and a long trench coat. have small penises, as do men who are involved in driving around cars at speed. They try and compensate for their insecurity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, now we've past the stereotypes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets get down to the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men these days are interacting with groups of young women who have no idea of what feminism was about, or why it was introduced. They only know, that whenever they have a problem, it can be blamed on men. They fear men, they fear the authority that men represent. They try and attack it in the only way they know. Their totally screwed up sexuality. Make up? theres more to it than that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whos winning here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men? no. they are no more at fault than anyone else. i feel sorry for them. most of them REALLY believe they are the problem! i suppose the MRM is going to change that eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;women? no. they have no power to sort out their own problems. while they are based on blaming men, they remain. Its your life honey, not his. Stop letting him take it over. he doesnt want too..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the problem, is the human condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we all have insecurities, desires, needs and wants. Its nobodys fault, its how we are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hope the mens movement will take this into account. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4870946686498672265?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4870946686498672265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4870946686498672265&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4870946686498672265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4870946686498672265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/material-girls-make-up-and-human.html' title='material girls, make up and the human condition.'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2y8pgUCsI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/wlcB_QHkuiQ/s72-c/green~flower~02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-128533929566453791</id><published>2007-05-06T10:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-15T09:03:04.888Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>vivir asi, es morir de amor!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2pO5gUCrI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vNcKmpiVY8s/s1600-h/Camilosesto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061387629653920434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2pO5gUCrI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vNcKmpiVY8s/s200/Camilosesto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;para Camilo sesto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre me traiciona la razon y me domina el corazon&lt;br /&gt;no se luchar contra el amor&lt;br /&gt;siempre me voy a enamorar de quien de mi no se enamora&lt;br /&gt;es por eso que mi alma llora&lt;br /&gt;y ya no puedo mas, ya no puedo mas&lt;br /&gt;siempre se repite esta misma historia&lt;br /&gt;estoy harto de rodar como una noria&lt;br /&gt;vivir asi, es morir de amor&lt;br /&gt;por amor tengo el alma herida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;te tengo que dar las gracias por escribir esta cancion, porque se me ha quitado el miedo con que me quede esta manana..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-128533929566453791?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/128533929566453791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=128533929566453791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/128533929566453791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/128533929566453791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/vivir-asi-es-morir-de-amor.html' title='vivir asi, es morir de amor!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rj2pO5gUCrI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vNcKmpiVY8s/s72-c/Camilosesto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4023533457374229203</id><published>2007-05-03T09:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-03T11:37:12.121Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>whats missing for men??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rjm0JJgUCqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jd9004cFtNM/s1600-h/red%2520Flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060273725590735522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rjm0JJgUCqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jd9004cFtNM/s200/red%2520Flower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;what things might men ask for from the mens movement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so far i havent seen too much thinking on men's part about where they want to be in 10 years time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it, that has made them begin to form movements to change things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is it that they feel is missing from their lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, i can only speculate but its what i like doing so here we go with a few ideas that i dreampt up last night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think men are missing out on parenting. i've got two young children of my own, and i work part-time. I have lots of time on my own with them, my partner also works part-time so we spend alot of our days together, with our children. Young children can turn a macho men into a loving caring father in no time at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe when a father looks at his child smile, when he realises that he has taught that child how to say daddy, that he has taught her that jumping up and down is fun! maybe he will also realise that people, that women, love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think the modern man is far too detached from this. I dont know the answer, i suppose somebody has to work full time at some point? i dont know. But definately men need more time with children. You know what, im sick of going to the park and seeing only women. Men are great with kids, and not just them, but kids are missing out too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, longer paternity leave?? 2 years at least!! why not 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think men are not allowed to show their sexuality in public. Much as i love a man in a suit, most male clothes, are practical, and not revealing. They represent security and not sexuality. I dont know how, but male fashion needs to exploit the male body more. I dont think any woman would have a problem with that!! again how and why, i dont know.. im not a fashion designer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, better male clothes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obviously, there are laws and things like that that are totally repressive of men. I dont know the ins and outs of those, and im sure lots of other guys know more than me about it. but i have to say that young women these days, are too aware of their privilidges over men in the eyes of the law. Its the same as the kids in the schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've taugh in secondary schools, and the kids know far too much.. 'dont touch me', 'your not allowed to do this', etc. I think its destroying education and i would apply it further to the outside world too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sister goes to see the doctor because she's pregnant. She refuses to show her breasts to the doctor, and yet, when she goes to spain and is sunbathing she's got no problem showing them off to every tom, dick and harry. What kind of mess is that? its apalling the amount of respect young women have for good, decent male AND even female professionals these days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it gets worse.. i had rosacea once, a mild skin problem that normally appears on the breasts.. i go to the doctor and as im about to take my top of to show him, he refuses! as their is no female nurse there, he wont look at them. He's scared of looking at me incase i cry abuse, rape or whatever shit feminism has invented to punish the poor guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, without even looking at me, he prescribes me something for the problem.. who wins there? not me, because he's not treating me properly. not him, because he's in that awkward position that men (and teachers) find themselves in all the time these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men have to stand up and say this. They have to point out the ridiculous contradictions with which the modern woman lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to know where men want to be. i want to know whats missing to make them so angry at ordinary women.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4023533457374229203?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4023533457374229203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4023533457374229203&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4023533457374229203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4023533457374229203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-things-might-men-ask-for-from-mens.html' title='whats missing for men??'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rjm0JJgUCqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jd9004cFtNM/s72-c/red%2520Flower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-6012147424634827838</id><published>2007-04-26T21:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-28T09:31:12.301Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>a fruit cakes experience of a male rights forum..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjMUSpgUCoI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IupFHVVJpp8/s1600-h/pic_flower01b.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058409117078784642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjMUSpgUCoI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IupFHVVJpp8/s200/pic_flower01b.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjHa8pgUCnI/AAAAAAAAAEo/JtP5pPc90Qk/s1600-h/flower104.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is the experience of a fruit cake woman who goes into a male dominated forum? what are her opinions on the people that inhabit them??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets look on the bad side, first, maybe that way by the time i've finished writting this, all the huffing and puffing might have calmed down a bit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of the people in these forums, are men that absolutely hate women. They dont understand us at all. You say hello, and they call you a feminist. You say hi, and you suddenly become a misandrist..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they are not interested in what you say. They dont even read it. &lt;strong&gt;Their interest is in proving you wrong&lt;/strong&gt;, you dont even need an opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they write essays of dull boring uniciteful lectures and assume that they have now made you into the stupid, foolish little girl that they see all women as.... WAKE UP, im sorry baby, i know you fancy 16 year old girls, but not all women are neurotic teenagers..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there are those that have long since become lost in the clouds of pointless intellectualism..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;According to one's insular (severely restrictive) ideological entrenched "vested" beneficial perspective?To question my righteous perspective merely reinforces my position.Retards can be curious? Wiping my arse? You're confused analogy doesn't resonate any practical reality, it merely reinforces my position.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can anyone understand this? does this person have the faintest idea what he is talking about? no, of course not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet, nobody seems to notice, he's one of the guys, he must be clever, because nobody can understand what he says right? i've come across several of these in my time. They normally have hair thats not been washed in a year, and maggots in the sofa..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if anyone ever needed a woman, then these are those people!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the flipside, you do find nice guys, geniune lovely young men, who have been messed up by feminism and its evils. but they are not the majority..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i dont have the faintest idea how men communicate with each other, i've tried my best and i always end up arguing with them. Maybe they should go to a feminist forum, to understand how i feel. These guys dont seem to argue with each other. So it must be me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose i should stop trying to bridge the gender gap really. I dont really know why i do it, i guess im a sociology graduate who has turned into a bored housewife and a part time language teacher who feels alone and bored alot of the time. Most of the interaction i get during the day is with 2 year olds, i suppose i have to vent out my feelings somehow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont think most of them understand just how hard it is to go into a forum inhabited by men who, on the whole, hate women and survive more than a week. Im someone that is not easily intimidated, and i have a quick responce when i see people are out of order. So, im quite proud of myself really, i suppose im doing ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get addicted to reading the responces and i feel upset and happy and guilty and angry... all these things that i guess i dont feel enough in the life i lead outside the internet. Maybe thats the common ground i share with these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont really know what else to do right now, im kinda running out of ideas to talk about. i tried talking about sex and i dont think that men are really interested in what i think about it. I thought men thought about sex all the time?? what on earth they are thinking about is something i dont really know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what else they do? they sometimes gang up on you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose they feel angry because they cannot express their inner hatred of women in the outside world, so im an easy target. Outside of the internet we have laws that stop people doing what they like, but on the internet its not quite the same. Maybe if they realised that i get upset when they all gang up on me, and i feel bad when all i feel im doing is trying to communicate and they seem to love arguing with me for it. Maybe they wouldn't dare in real life, maybe its good that they can vent their anger at a wierdo woman who in their opinion&lt;em&gt; doesnt really get it&lt;/em&gt; does she?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, i think im getting closer to the reason why i've been involved in this kind of thing lately. I really believe that inside every man, is a scared little boy who doesnt know how to express himself anymore. Nobody sees that little boy that he is inside, but instead they see this big, powerful, man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How the hell can he express &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; pain, &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; fear, &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; insecurity, when everyone else is looking to him for security and comfort. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really do feel sorry for men when they are in this situation. but you know, when i try to talk to them about it, when i try to get inside their feelings and worries, they tell me that i am callous, self-centred and emtionally bankrupt. What can i do? maybe i should just leave them all to become rambos, and duck while they kill each other.. it would be a terrible shame...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the mens movement has missed lots of things... why are they not learning to express their vulnerability, why do they hide behind ridiculous intellectual language, and hatred of women?? what is stopping them from saying.. hell we are humans too, and we need looking after and we need people who care about us?? why are they not telling women that women dont have to be feminists, and hate the world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the more they get into it, the further they seem to get from saving themselves. They hate marriage, they hate love i suppose. They hate the idea of having children and understanding that not everyone is out to get them..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what i make of it, im just one person, and you know what, i think they like me underneath all the nastiness they throw at me. you know why i think that?? because i tend to like them... (and because only a fruit cake could go into a forum where they all argue with you and call you names and still think that they like you!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i enjoyed it so far, so whatever i say in here guys, i hope you dont take it too seriously and too much to heart. You know, inside every feminist woman, is a scared little girl who wants to find love too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjEhVJgUCmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fmnPzQHvsk4/s1600-h/fruitcake-freedom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057860503726197346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" height="247" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjEhVJgUCmI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fmnPzQHvsk4/s200/fruitcake-freedom.jpg" width="204" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-6012147424634827838?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/6012147424634827838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=6012147424634827838&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6012147424634827838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6012147424634827838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/fruit-cakes-experience-of-male-rights.html' title='a fruit cakes experience of a male rights forum..'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RjMUSpgUCoI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IupFHVVJpp8/s72-c/pic_flower01b.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-937655822066884992</id><published>2007-04-23T12:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-23T16:58:51.326Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>I have a secret feminist plot hidden under my bed!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiyrtapwyII/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHRWxwsrJHQ/s1600-h/alien_under_bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056605278367172738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiyrtapwyII/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHRWxwsrJHQ/s200/alien_under_bed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, i survived about 32 posts on stand your ground, and they all turned on me. I guess this is starting happen on the new forum?! oh well, ¿asi es la vida, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what these guys keep telling me, and, i am listening to them &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i dont answer their questions, that&lt;br /&gt;i dont back anything up with facts. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have tried my best to do what they ask, but im not so sure thats really what they want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant back up arguments with facts, really, because i dont feel like im really making any arguments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for example.&lt;br /&gt;Fred X says that men get called up and die during wars.&lt;br /&gt;i say, Fred, i dont see you on the front line (there is a war in iraq right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how am i supposed to back that up with facts? take a picture of fred at his PC to prove that he's not on the front line?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think what ultimately they dont like about what i am doing, is that i am not really against them. Their view of women, in my opinion, at this point, is that we are all "femcunts" or "femhags" who live in a different world to them, basking in our privilidges, spewing out hatred of men, and blaming them for everything we dislike about our world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont fit into that category, so i must have some hidden agenda, some secret feminist plot hidden in my rucksack or under my bed.. well, i've searched my soul deeply and i still havent found that plot yet.. maybe they are right, i dont know. Maybe i am a feminist, and i never realised it? but then, maybe they hate women, and they never realised it either..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i suppose we are all learning aren't we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What they havent heard despite however many times i say it, is that i actually agree with them for the most part, and that I really think that things have gone to far. Men DO need to stand together and fight injust laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, its still ok to have fun along the way isnt it? apparently not, for some of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My website is not about support for the mens movement, they are more than capable of doing that themselves. I suppose im commenting on them from an outside perpesctive, why? because i am fascinated by men. Ive always been a bit of a rebel without a cause, so, i suppose in this world of feminism, i HAD to be the one that tried to understand men! when all my female sisters hated them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think if they understood women a bit better, then we might end up with a nicer world at the end of it. Im trying to understand men better, i fail miserably lots of the time, other times i am right, and they tell me i am wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know i dont think we are that difficult to understand? the problem is that feminism has MADE us difficult to understand. Nobody sees us as individuals anymore, not even ourselves. We are "Women" not, "a woman". God i hate that, but i do know that lots of women like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the key to understanding the opposite sex i think lies in understanding first of all, that we are all totally different from each other. We then have to understand that we are different from each and every member of our OWN sex. I dont think, the mens movement has grasped this yet.. its not surprising... feminism NEVER did..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still i can only try and when the next lot hate me, i'll find another bunch of them to poke at with my chocolate pogo stick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-937655822066884992?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/937655822066884992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=937655822066884992&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/937655822066884992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/937655822066884992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-have-secret-feminist-plot-hidden.html' title='I have a secret feminist plot hidden under my bed!!'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiyrtapwyII/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHRWxwsrJHQ/s72-c/alien_under_bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-3692524888869688094</id><published>2007-04-21T21:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-06T09:26:12.769Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexuality'/><title type='text'>a males guide to my sexuality part 2</title><content type='html'>im not going to pretend that this is a good, organised and well thought out post, but here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another thing that is definately not talked about enough is the way we feel with each other in the bedroom... yes, im talking about sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you go on a first date with a man, and things go well, you might go back home with him, or more scarily, to his place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, lets get things straight.. the power between us starts there. Who's house are we at. If im going back to his place, then sex, is going to happen isnt it? if im taking the risk that he is a total nut, then i might as well risk it right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does it happen like that? no. Guys get worked up really quickly, and i think this can go two ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one) if i want to have sex, then great. i dont really have to do anything, i never have to put my true feelings on the outside, and he makes it happen. brill, everyone is happy.. or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two) for some reason i panic and decide that i DONT want sex. he gets more and more worked up, and the more he wants it, the more i dont want it. He gets hurt, and feels rejected, and i feel like a total sex moron, like a 10 year old girl who has not ever learnt how to control herself yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an important thing here for guys to understand, is that when i say i dont want sex, i am not choosing that. If i was to have sex, i would go through all the emotions of being raped, and although it would not be rape (the poor guy hasnt got a clue), it would really, really mess me up. Im not choosing it, sometimes, for some reason that i dont understand, i just CANT do it emotionally. I dont bloody understand it, and dont tell me that im hiding some feminist agenda. I have really tried to understand this one and i just cant. maybe some woman somewhere else has come up with that answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was reading a blog yesterday, by canadian (on my blog list) and he was saying that all guys really want, is for someone to suck their dick, while they watch other people having sex? Yes, i think thats what he was saying, apparently, thats it, thats what it is to be a man. Well great, but im missing something here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if thats what it is to be a man, what is it to be a woman? Do i like watching other people have sex? er.. depends on who it is, no.. wait, no, i dont really. no, actually i do.. you know what, i dont actually know. I suppose i do admire men in that way, because they seem very focused about what they want sexually. Do you like watching other people eat food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what turns me on? chest hair, stubble. what turns me off, me, the thought that i am being turned of, turns me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like the tension that develops on a night out.&lt;br /&gt;i like people sucking my nipples, hard. it gives a sharp pain, but yet its a dull pain that feels good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like wearing sexy clothes. i like men watching me when i do that. i like putting my hands on his chest and pretending that i am somehow bigger and more powerful than him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow this is difficult, i never realised how little i knew about myself sexually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hold on, i was supposed to be talking about communication between the sexes wasnt i?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, when i say no, i do mean no (although that no, can be made into a yes, if my emotional state changes) this is the biggest problem that men and women face i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can men say no? yes, i think they can. although im guessing. They can certainly say no, after they feel rejected by me, but its more a fuck off you bitch no, rather than a no, i dont want sex no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the wierdest bit about sex is after a guy ejaculates, thats it.. i sit and watch while it appears he goes through every emotion under the sun. I've talked a guy about that before and he told me that he has a really quick mood swing.. wierd..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i suppose after this initial process goes past, we get used to each other and the problems disapear more, but i suppose, that means that so does the excitement of something new and risky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;canadian says on his website that men really do think about sex all the time. I hardly ever think about sex. i wish i thought about it more. When i was 17-18 i suppose i thought about it alot more? but i didnt really know what it was then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think the morale of this story is, that if you can understand anything of what i have just written, then you are doing VERY well. congratulations, because this woman doesnt have the faintest clue about what her sexuality is or how it works. (but at least, im willing to admit it)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-3692524888869688094?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/3692524888869688094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=3692524888869688094&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3692524888869688094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/3692524888869688094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/sexuality-part-2.html' title='a males guide to my sexuality part 2'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4072913418340208265</id><published>2007-04-20T19:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-21T09:35:28.159Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>whats so bad about pluto??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RikW76pwyHI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FD62O5eJKQQ/s1600-h/11995_sun_%26_alpha_centauri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RikW76pwyHI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FD62O5eJKQQ/s200/11995_sun_%26_alpha_centauri.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055597275312605298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;--- &lt;strong&gt;Alpha-Centauri, closest star to the sun&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me apologize, not all men are from pluto. Someone said to me that to say men were from pluto is a feminist way of saying that they are all wierd, like, they are further away from earth and therefore less in touch with reality..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well.. you know, my page is called from the planet neptune, and pluto, is an escaped satelite of neptune isnt it? so, maybe we should get on well then? I love astronomy, its my favourite thing, whenever i feel bad, i look up at the sky and think, this is a planet, and im this tiny thing on the planet, and out there, is space, and we know nothing really about it.. It kinda makes me feel better. My dad taught me the names of all the bright stars in the sky. I quite like pluto, but its not my favourite planet, i'll admit that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think people should get to know me before they make assumptions about my "feminist tendancies"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i was feeling a bit upset last night when i wrote the below article, because i dont think men understand just how intimidating they can be sometimes. They have a bigger physical presence, in reality, and i think in cyberspace too. Its part of being a man that you are big, and part of being a woman that they are bigger than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so where is this going? i have been involved in a forum lately, here is the link i you want to read it http://mathews.me.uk/forum/showthread.php?t=4961&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've come to the conclusion that lots of men dont really understand their feelings very well, they tend to intellectualise them, and objectify themselves. I dont really know why they do this, i suppose, if you lose an argument, you dont get hurt so much? if you argue as if you were someone else, then they cant get down into your most intimate feelings can they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;either that, or men are from alpha-centaurai, and really have no feelings, are empty-vessels that spew out dictatory lectures on what superior creatures they are. Please guys, let me know which one it is, im really trying here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im starting to understand this movement a bit better.. what we have, is alot of nice men, who have been treated badly by women for whatever reason, they are pissed off. Rightly so. Im scared that they are going to do protect other men who arent quite so nice, at the expense of women who are. Guys, i do believe in what you are doing. Men are not allowed to sit on aeroplanes next to children anymore. This really is a world gone mad, and whenever i've talked to men while out with my children, they are really fun. Men that like children are pretty cool really, they are easy to relate too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these men have been stuffed by aload of bitchy idiot women, and lots of similarly idiotic men, who here the world paedophile, and screw up any relationship normal men might have with children who are not their own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just remember, guys, feminists want you to view things along the lines of gender. They want you to think that all women are the same. Dont fall for their propaganda. Lots of women are thick, and spew out feminist stuff, but they dont really believe in it. If you learn how to communicate with them, perhaps you could help your movement. But, of course, that would mean becoming, anecdotal, and expressing feelings.... scared are we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men, you have along way to go...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4072913418340208265?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4072913418340208265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4072913418340208265&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4072913418340208265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4072913418340208265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/whats-so-bad-about-pluto.html' title='whats so bad about pluto??'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RikW76pwyHI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FD62O5eJKQQ/s72-c/11995_sun_%26_alpha_centauri.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4213619658479696332</id><published>2007-04-19T20:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-21T09:35:28.160Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>men are from pluto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RifaK6pwyGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ioULZMhjYB8/s1600-h/Pluto%2520and%2520Charon%2520by%2520David%2520A%2520Hardy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055248987824638050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RifaK6pwyGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ioULZMhjYB8/s200/Pluto%2520and%2520Charon%2520by%2520David%2520A%2520Hardy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;forget mars, men are from pluto.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it has just occured to me, that i really dont understand men AT ALL. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i make a joke and they reply with an essay saying why im wrong &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i try and help them and they tell me im the enemy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i guess that there must be somewhere in their heads that clicks on when they are talking to men, and clicks off when they talk to women? i dont know.. please men, correct me if im wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, im not beaten im going to try more from now on. and if any men read this, it is NOT an attack on you, i just dont understand you very well, but at least im trying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I think we love each other even if sometimes it is difficult to translate what we are expressing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;also, kinda changing subject a bit, there are several fallacies in the male rights movements that men should think about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;men are more logical.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think thats not true, they are just more logical when it suits them.&lt;br /&gt;in fact most "macho" activities actually are based on proving just how illogical you are&lt;br /&gt;for example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Supporting a football team to the death that never wins &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Driving a car to fast to prove yourself&lt;br /&gt;shooting 32 university students and killing yourself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;men earned the right to vote&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no, SOME men, 100's of years ago earned the right to vote. Men today did no more than any women did. They kinda forgot that while they took all the credit for what a group of unrelated men did 100 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;i wont marry! im going to live alone!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how many times do they say this?&lt;br /&gt;i dont believe that men can just turn of their emotions, maybe they would like us to think that. Men love women and women love men. I think the people that advocate this, advocate it because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) no woman in her right mind would EVER marry them (see gonzokid, SYG forum) and its better to be seen as not wanting to marry, than not BEING ABLE too..&lt;br /&gt;2) they have been hurt somewhere by a woman, and they say they are not going to marry to try and hurt women, as a whole group&lt;br /&gt;3) they are scared of marrying a woman that will then divorce them and steal everything. Well, women are scared of getting married too. You just have to make sure you dont end up with that type of woman! its not that difficult duh! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4213619658479696332?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4213619658479696332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4213619658479696332&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4213619658479696332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4213619658479696332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/men-are-from-pluto.html' title='men are from pluto'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RifaK6pwyGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ioULZMhjYB8/s72-c/Pluto%2520and%2520Charon%2520by%2520David%2520A%2520Hardy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5314652865512743335</id><published>2007-04-17T09:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-17T09:58:53.602Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>Men standing up for themselves?</title><content type='html'>Someone asked me to start a thread in an anti-misanry forum to talk about the mens movement. I nearly did but then i got really nervous and decided to write it in here instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what would i say to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the problem i have is that i dont know yet if i am an enemy or a friend of their movement. The part to which i am a friend, is that I really really want to see a world, in which men can take on feminine qualities. That being a male, is opened up to new things. I think that they have been denied this, and miss out because of it. I think that sometimes, there is a massive gap between what each individual man wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the part to which i am an enemy, is the men who want a return to a world in which men are dominant again. Macho man could return but this time he's going to kill all the women that get in his way, instead of showing a simpathetic ear like 50 years ago. Masculinity is closed down even further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;try driving in a tiny red peogeot 205, down a busy spanish motorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i get scared when i go past 90km/h. and you know what, in spain, where feminism hasnt really happend, and men ARE men... if you are on a motorway and there is only two lanes, and the overtaking lane is occupied and a big lorry comes up behind you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These macho men will mow you and your children out of their way. They dont care about you, they really dont. I've never been so scared in my life, and it happens again, and again and again until you have driven the 25 km between Santander and Torrelavega.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its because they have never really seen feminism. If they hate their wife they beat her up. Spain has a real macho problem. I dont know, maybe they just want to prove to the world that they drive faster than you. Is this the male sense of logic they talk about? Not very logical really is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiSViL4Es1I/AAAAAAAAADw/O-CXoGN4tys/s1600-h/peugeot_205_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054329096352609106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiSViL4Es1I/AAAAAAAAADw/O-CXoGN4tys/s200/peugeot_205_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;a little red roller skate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Male logic, it seems, applies only when they choose to apply it. Something that men could learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spain and Britain are too very different countries, but masculinity, can be as dangerous, and scary as what feminism has done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i think this: Masculine extremes and feminine extremes they can all go to hell as far as i am concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, am i a friend of a mens movement? absolutely not if it means that men become like rambo again. Some women find them attractive, i just find them thick. Men complain that the nice guy never gets the girl. Well, they never thought that macho man gets the rat girl did they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;many within the mens movement talk about not getting married, about rejecting western women. Well, that means they are rejecting me, and my daughters without giving us any chance. I suspect that alot of these guys are filled with hatred of women, maybe because they have not had much luck, or have been rejected at some point in their life. Men, let go of this, every woman is different, and some, are warm and caring. Dont draw lines along gender, that girl was a bitch. The next one doesnt have to be. Do you really believe we are all the same, as feminism has tried to convince you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neither does rejection have to mean isolation. Isolation is what the radical feminists have. You know, some of them are so lost in their own self-righteousness, that they put up with being a lesbian, when they are really heterosexual. Thats probably why lesbo relationships are often quite violent. Imagine that, a whole life never having sex with someone that turns you on. You know what, radical lesbians can have their violent sexually frustrated utopia. I just hope that men dont make the same mistake. Men and women are good together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that i want men to discover their inner femininity. Women discovered their inner man 50 years ago in britain. Now they are in a very good position. No women's life is perfect of course, but they can wear, act, and do masculine things, whenever they feel like it. Some choose not to, but then they have the choice. Men on the other hand, have only the old male role to fall back on, and it gets smaller and more restrained with each and every attack by feminism and its mangina friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am scared that hatred of women is going to lead to the wrong men getting in charge of the mens movement. They will promote only super-macho values and the biggest losers? everybody. Gentle, emotional men, where do they fit into this macho utopia? do all women have to become prostituted rat girls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just dont understand where its going i suppose i should ask really shouldn't i?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5314652865512743335?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5314652865512743335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5314652865512743335&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5314652865512743335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5314652865512743335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/men-standing-up-for-themselves.html' title='Men standing up for themselves?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiSViL4Es1I/AAAAAAAAADw/O-CXoGN4tys/s72-c/peugeot_205_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-6767228247102145416</id><published>2007-04-16T21:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-06T09:26:03.994Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life is difficult isnt it'/><title type='text'>insecurities, sex, and very fast trains..</title><content type='html'>i feel tired and depressed. you know, when you feel so tired that you know when you go to bed that you're not going to be able to sleep, because you are too tired?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i travelled half way across europe yesterday, starting in spain, going through france, and then finally under the english channel on a VERY fast train, and after running and sweating my way across central london just making my bus, home. I stink, my hair is a total mess and i feel like shit. Is it just me that feels like that, or is it real, does everyone else see the total disaster of a day im having? do i see it when they are having one??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know when i feel like that, i look at my face in the mirror and think, fucking hell you're so ugly. You have all these bags under your eyes, wrinkles on your forehead and eyes, big nose, fat cheeks and thin, crap coloured and crap cut hair. Oh yeah, my tits are too small, i look like a man and i dont have any hips and god... aaahh i just want to get it out i guess this is a good place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know objectively that tommorow morning i'll wake up, feel better and all the horrible aspects that seemed so big tonight, will seem unimportant and irrelevant. Some wont even be there anymore.. Its happend to me too many times before, and im a wise old choco woman. Hell, only a few days ago i felt like the super sexy sex queen from sex city, planet super gorgeous. Why do we do this to ourselves? or is it just me that does it too myself. This world needs a bit more honesty doesnt it mi amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do men do this to themselves or is it a sanctuary reserved only for females, or just me alone? do men understand that i feel like this, do they care? am i just another insecure whinging ugly flat chested bitch? would they admit it if they were just like me really? i just dont know that answer to that. hell.. i like football isnt that good enough??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess what im asking for here is some kind of answer from this male movement. Im hoping that what i believe about men, will turn out to be true. That they are as fucking insecure as i am sometimes, and that yes, they are not scared to tell me about it. I listen, i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;throught life maybe we get attached to groups of people we think are going to save us from ourselves, that are going to remove all those insecurities and somehow make every day much easier. Clothes, Musicians, Sex, Films, Food, Internet, bigger tits, thicker hair, internet chats, webcams, blogs, forums and Football teams. Are they going to be the answer? I suppose they each do their bit to fill in what in reality is just an empty vacuum of nothingness. Life, i mean. Lets face it, there is only the meanings we give it. It has no inherent meaning does it. Why do i feel like this, for what reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are my children going to grow up and have their own insecurities? are they going to be as pathetic as i am at dealing with them? well.. i guess im not that bad AT LEAST i know they go away (dont i?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what is male insecurity like, is it like mine? am i asking too much from men to talk to me about them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-6767228247102145416?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/6767228247102145416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=6767228247102145416&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6767228247102145416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/6767228247102145416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/insecurities.html' title='insecurities, sex, and very fast trains..'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7763068323633584047</id><published>2007-04-16T14:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-16T20:57:09.793Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>its the circumstances, not the gender</title><content type='html'>i think that alot of the problems in mis-communication between men and women are that they find it difficult to step into the other's shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alot of women get very demoralised, confused and angry, when their man does something on his own, which in the case of men can predominantly be porn, or masterbation related. They dont see it for what it is, they feel jealous of the women he is looking at, they feel deflated because he is supposed to be with them, not looking at the women in the porno. It means for women that &lt;strong&gt;they have no control what is going on in his life for a period of time&lt;/strong&gt;. They cannot choose which image he looks at, or what he does while he's looking at, which they can during sex with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what they dont understand, is that life as a man, must be very hard sometimes, and i am convinced that pornography forms some kind of release for men, they escape from the real world for a few minutes. The women they look at do exactly what they want, they are in control of their own pleasure and for how ever long it takes (and some men can take FOREVER) they dont have to think about worries and problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont think alot of women really understand this, they think when their man looks at porn, that its somehow about them. That the guy is escaping from them, that he is somehow using his sexuality as a weapon against them. They dont realise what he gets from it, they only see a locked door. The mind worries about what it does not know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiOO274Es0I/AAAAAAAAADo/BjcVQIyvZ_g/s1600-h/door.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054040281276789570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 168px" height="116" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiOO274Es0I/AAAAAAAAADo/BjcVQIyvZ_g/s200/door.jpg" width="124" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt;what&lt;em&gt; is&lt;/em&gt; he doing in there????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;men, if you see a locked door, and you know your girlfriend, who you love, is inside and you have a pretty good idea she is looking at other men, how would you feel? worried, scared, inadequate, rejected?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the whole situation is dictated by circumstances. In this circumstance the man is the one who knows whats going on, the woman the one who doesn't. It has nothing to do with gender at all. Most men given the same situation, would feel the same way as the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women also need sexual release too of course. From my experience, probably based again, on circumstance rather than gender, female sexuality has developed in a different way. I think the control women like is too have people look at them but also be in control. So, for a man locked away in his room looking at porn, the female equivalent is wearing something that shows of your body a bit, something that makes people look at you. I know what this is like, only the other day i was teaching, i had a low cut top on and one of my students (male) while i was trying to explain something couldn't help but try and look at my tits. Poor guy, its my fault just as much as it is his. I felt a bit embarrased because i didnt realise it was so obvious, and he just got on with things. In this is where i get my own release, my own de-stress session. I go home and think, well actually, i do feel like a woman sexually again, i dont need to do anything about it now. It then disapears and comes back again a few days later, in exactly the same way as it does to the guy i guess? I think what im trying to say, is that female sexuality, is not really a private realm, its not something they can do in private. Whats the point in me looking at myself in a mirror? its much better to have someone looking at me. But the end result, is the same, pornography, or low cut tops - we get a release of stress and we feel ok again about ourselves for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is obviously a difference between the two though. Men locking themselves in a room, is generally considered wierd, whereas a woman showing of her body a bit, is not. Thats where it is wrong. So, the lesson here is for women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let him get on with it, just like he lets you get on with wearing clothes that make you feel good about yourself. Remember, if circumstance where different, it could be you locked in the room, and he could be the socially acceptable face of sexuality, just like you are now. Be grateful, and let him get on with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7763068323633584047?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7763068323633584047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7763068323633584047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7763068323633584047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7763068323633584047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-circumstances-not-gender.html' title='its the circumstances, not the gender'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RiOO274Es0I/AAAAAAAAADo/BjcVQIyvZ_g/s72-c/door.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5397663739862200339</id><published>2007-04-05T17:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-16T15:34:06.149Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>what have i seen so far?</title><content type='html'>what have i seen so far in the male rights movement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i´ve spent a few months reading various blogs in here, and i´ve taken part in two forums so far. The first one i found was called Askmen.com. I was surprised to read some comments in their that werent the normal male garbage that surrounds that type of thing (i.e. about blonde haired women, cars, and other boring things).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed to me there were several men out there that were trying to start some sort of movement against feminism, and against the stupid idiot stereotype that men seem to have inhereted lately. It kinda gave me a new way of looking at things. I always found it strange that i could talk to men about things that affected their lives, i.e. rape, children, women... and they normally seemed immensely detached. I just supposed that men were not capable of personal thoughts. I think thats what alot of women think, they dont really get why men refuse to take control of their lives. but since i went in there i realised a few things. I liked reading some comments, one or two posters actually made me smile when i read their posts, so i got deeper and deeper into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i learnt what a blog was and then started reading the blogs of the members i had found, fieldmarshall watkins, christian j and one or two others. I liked what these guys were saying so i continued to read, and from there, i have found other blogs and im now kinda addicted to reading them, i cant wait to read the next post they write. It lead me to the website standyourground.com, which i entered assuming it would be something similar, but something i realised quickly there -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my nickname was decidly female (Fruit_Cake) and suddenly everyone hated me it didnt really matter what i said. LC_Vega is a pretty androgenous name, which is why i use it normally. It really knocked me back and i spent a week or two thinking, oh my god what have i got myself into, im selling my soul here. These guys HATE women. It scared the hell out of me. Since then i´ve decided, that perhaps i shouldn´t go around telling men how to lead their own movement. Now i think my role will just to be encourage, if indeed i have any role at all. Im still working that part out. (i have to do something to fill in the endless empty vacuum of life)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one thing that guys involved in this movement should consider, is what they want, and where they are going too? I think there are quite a few guys involved in this who have had bad experiences with women, and have confused that with a male rights movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is, that scares me most of all, is that OK, at the moment at least in the english speaking western world, Feminism is dominant. What kind of world would it be if it were dominanted by macho men? The guys in this movement have to be VERY VERY careful what they create. It seems alot of the guys i read would hate a world of masculine extremes, perhaps as much as they hate the feminist one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as a female, it is very difficult to contribute to a male movement. Lots of them try, they mostly fail. I dont think they get it really. They dont understand that its difficult for a man to trust a woman in this movement. For my part, i think the best and maybe, only, thing i can offer to this movement is to ask the question to all men involved - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM THIS MOVEMENT&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;WHERE DO YOU THINK IT IS GOING TO??&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;i ask that question because im not 100% sure that all of the guys out there have really thought about this one. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RhU9ILfzWFI/AAAAAAAAADY/Bh2dBExvz-E/s1600-h/9d59e0d8a0901cabb23ec2e96b63b01f_4f6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050009767900305490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" height="166" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RhU9ILfzWFI/AAAAAAAAADY/Bh2dBExvz-E/s320/9d59e0d8a0901cabb23ec2e96b63b01f_4f6.jpg" width="195" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5397663739862200339?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5397663739862200339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5397663739862200339&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5397663739862200339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5397663739862200339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-have-i-seen-so-far.html' title='what have i seen so far?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RhU9ILfzWFI/AAAAAAAAADY/Bh2dBExvz-E/s72-c/9d59e0d8a0901cabb23ec2e96b63b01f_4f6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-4613430043160170858</id><published>2007-04-03T22:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-02T08:47:37.217Z</updated><title type='text'>a message for my critics...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/Rucasw8IPeI/AAAAAAAAAO4/iX73WJDLcoY/s1600-h/fucku2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-4613430043160170858?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/4613430043160170858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=4613430043160170858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4613430043160170858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/4613430043160170858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/message-for-my-critics.html' title='a message for my critics...'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-7244793404647346040</id><published>2007-04-03T13:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-16T15:34:06.149Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>where do i stand?</title><content type='html'>where do i stand, what are my own motivations and goals and my reasons for supporting a men´s rights movement?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think every woman, and probably, most men, should outline their directions before starting to take part in the male rights movements battle against the world they find themselves in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as a woman, one reason i could give, is that if i were to have male children (something that has not happend to me so far) it would not be a fit world for them to live in. Decent women love their children so much that they are willing to fight against what is in their own interest. As a woman i would support a mens movement that restricted my own life in favour of my sons. Furthermore, as a parent of two female children, the over-reaction that could come about once feminism has been exposed is also scary. The one thing feminism never had was physical power. Im scared a male movement may encompass a movement of hatred against women, and make their lives hell. My children are not to blame for feminism, just as men born 30 years ago were not to blame for the things feminists blamed them for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;second, i think that the men at the forefront, and i mean AT THE FOREFRONT of this movement (not stagnating morons like those in Stand your ground), are really the most impressive things this world has. It must take a massive step to realise that all the feminist crap you are told is wrong, and an even bigger one to stand up against it. If evolution is right, then surely a woman would fall in love with a man that was COMPLETELY in touch with reality? Only a man who understands his surroundings would be a perfect partner to be with? I think the guys at the forefront of this movement are really self aware, and intouch with reality. Its so sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be completely in touch with reality from my point of view, you cannot be a gun slinging macho man, or a pink handbag wearing mangina. Its somewhere in the middle. I guess, ultimately, i quite desire this type of guy, so there is the reason. Its a good one isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do i think the mens movement should go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i´ve been called lots of names over the last few months, (feminist and troll, amongst them, all in stand your ground) if you want to see what i said look up the name fruit_cake on the website stand your ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not saying i am right, i never did, but i think that the mens movement has to in some way mimic what feminism did for women. It opened up their world, they moved into areas that were not seen as womenly. Today women can practically do anything they want. I dont think that that is wrong. What i think men deserve is something similar, along side a massive readjustment in other rights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What im saying is for me that certainly a part of the male rights movement should be about men taking on femininity within themselves, i.e. being able to wear what they want and act how they want without fear of being called gay or ostracised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they deserve equal rights in every way. 6 months maternity leave for women? ok, so 6 months for men too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Equality for all. If women want equal pay at wimbledon, then, they have to beat the men. Otherwise they can get paid less, because frankly, they are less able. We dont have fat peoples wimbledon do we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, there are obviously other areas that men have been pushed into a corner and they need to escape. Divorce settlements, parental rights, working rights, sexual discrimination.. and YES, rape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rape has to be made into the crime it actually is. Unwanted intercourse. Its in the same category as punching someone in the face. Its not very nice, but no more than that. I think the mens movement has to attack the sensasionalisation of rape, made by feminists for political goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I´ve argued with other people in this movement, both men and women, who to me, appear to be arguing for some sort of cowboy, super macho world. Do men REALLY want to be pushed further into the corner of machoness? Are you really that tough guys? i dont know, but i dont think you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from what i have seen, there is a split within this movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the question i would like to know the answer to guys who read this. What do you want? do you want to promote cowboy masculininty, survival of the fittest, im a tough superman who does not get hurt by anyone, or, like i hope is correct, do you want to embrace what has been stolen from you - your right to enjoy femininity AS WELL as masculinity. Just as many women now do, accept the other way round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i´ve been called a feminist before, because i think men should embrace femininity (note feminINITY, not feminiSM). I think the way that men can win this war for the good of all, is too take over femininity, just as feminists have taken over masculinity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats where i stand, it might change over time, but its important that people know where you are coming from.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-7244793404647346040?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/7244793404647346040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=7244793404647346040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7244793404647346040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/7244793404647346040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/where-do-i-stand-what-are-my-own.html' title='where do i stand?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-1644667718304400242</id><published>2007-04-03T10:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-16T15:34:06.150Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me on the mens movement'/><title type='text'>Stand your ground.com - watch out, these people are not who they say they are.</title><content type='html'>Stand your ground.com is supposedly a male rights movement website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the reality is that it is run by a gang of 4 or 5 people, who as it happens, i dont think are particularly well thought-out, that see themselves as the leaders of this movement. They dont want to budge out of your way. Their opinions are not at the forefront of where this movement should be. They are a massive danger to this movement and they need to be outed for what they are before they take more control of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i shall mention their names here, so that other people be aware of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonzokid - this person is a gun slinging cowboy. he wants men to hate the world just like he does. Dont fall for his macho bravadery. Watchout guys, he wants to drag you all down to his level. He has a personal agenda, and does not care about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biscuit Queen - side kick for gonzokid. A Woman fighting for mens rights? be suspiscous, VERY suspicious. I will outline all my own reasons for my support of the mens movement as soon as i can so men can judge me friend or foe. Biscuit queen sees herself as just that, the queen. She is a lady macbeth that is pulling all the strings. Watch out for her lads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr E. this is the moderator - be careful because he is not impartial, he will support his friends, (see above members) and pretend to be impartial. Bad moderator, bad website..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as soon as i get more time i will outline my own reasons for supporting this movement, as a woman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-1644667718304400242?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/1644667718304400242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=1644667718304400242&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1644667718304400242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/1644667718304400242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/stand-your-groundcom-watch-out-these.html' title='Stand your ground.com - watch out, these people are not who they say they are.'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3330763337653374327.post-5714482077780767791</id><published>2007-04-01T17:03:00.008Z</published><updated>2008-03-22T21:23:30.738Z</updated><title type='text'>who is Lucia Vega?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WweAQOl384w/RxuXQFUmxUI/AAAAAAAAAQY/NEEV5FTb5pw/s1600-h/danielleposterised.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHO IS LUCIA VEGA?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Q: is that your real name?&lt;br /&gt;A: Lucia Vega is my pen name, its not my real name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: why are you writing this diary?&lt;br /&gt;A: Im stuck in most of the day with two small children. It stops me going mad? or does it make me worse? I want to find if there are any people out there, that can identify with me. Its a difficult one isnt it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Q: do you hate men?&lt;br /&gt;A: no, i can live with them, i can live without them. We dont have any men on planet neptune yet. Some of them are ignorant pigs, and others are wonderful, but hey, thats life.. Im married to an earthling, and he's god. End of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: do you hate women?&lt;br /&gt;A: nope&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: are you crazy?&lt;br /&gt;A: i used to think so, but these days im starting to think im pretty normal and boring really. Is that good? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: whats it like living on planet neptune?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: the best, we have no macho men, no aggressive domineering monsters or anything like that. Actually we all sing songs, like the wheels on the bus! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: what are you trying to achieve by writing this?&lt;br /&gt;A: I dont know... stay tuned until i find out! We could be some time..&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: whats your favourite colour?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: yellowy orange, like the sunset! You can tell alot about a person by their favourite colour.. Whats your favourite colour??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: whats the best thing in life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: having children and watching them grow, closely followed by having a wardrobe full of clothes that reflect you mood that day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: where's it all going to end?&lt;br /&gt;A: not sure, not thought about ending it yet. Things change don't they?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q: so, what message are you trying to tell me, Lucia??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: that you can be my friend, if you want to! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3330763337653374327-5714482077780767791?l=luciavega.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/feeds/5714482077780767791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3330763337653374327&amp;postID=5714482077780767791&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5714482077780767791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3330763337653374327/posts/default/5714482077780767791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luciavega.blogspot.com/2007/04/who-is-lucia-vega.html' title='who is Lucia Vega?'/><author><name>lucia vega</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04884255486157807785</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
