El Niño and Nobel Peace Prize

Hello after a long time – and a baby which is already 14 months old and just the best thing in the universe! Here’s a funny anecdote for my comeback. Last night, my husband attended one of the dinners organized by a Hollywood writer “which are for men only because we like to have an intelligent conversation.” As a good Hollywood wife, I will not comment on his statement.

But here’s the fun part. My husband was sitting next to an environmental scientist from NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the very same guy who in the 1970’s invented the term “El Nino” They talked about the El Nino that’s about to hit California (in January through March), about global warming, droughts and other environmental catastrophes. After hours of conversation, my husband desperately asked him where we should move. “To whenever makes you wife happiest,” the scientist replied.

I really believe this amazing gentleman for the Nobel Prize. If not for science, definitely for peace!

Why George Clooney’s Love Life Matters

I’m so in love with Philosophers’ Mail idea of giving gossip deeper meaning that I’m going to steal the idea and serve you some gossip. Apparently – and this has been a rumor for months – George Clooney is dating…. Ready?.... A successful intelligent woman with a serious profession! Few months ago, they’ve been papped (for all those normal people not living in L.A.: a picture taken by paparazzi) in a car, leaving a restaurant in London. And few days ago, she accompanied him to “The Monuments Men” screening at the White House. (That’s what I call a date!)

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How Chivalry Could Heal American Misogyny

I just found on my Facebook wall a post titled „5 Reasons Why Women Should Celebrate the Death of Chivalry.“ It made me jump to the ceiling. Since Woody Allen scandal came up again few weeks ago, I’ve been thinking about women in the United States a lot. Actually, I’ve been thinking about women in United States a lot since I moved here three years ago. Before I moved here, I lived in Croatia and Austria. And I just can’t stop being shocked about how much, and how deeply women are hated in this country. Something went terribly wrong here and somewhere along the path to equality, and instead of partners, American men and women became competitors, even opponents.

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L.A. Breasts

L.A. Magazine’s October issue is dedicated to L.A. Women. What a great idea! Maria Shriver on the cover, described as strong, smart, iconic. 2 pages about women who changed the game, 2 pages of a general story about women in L.A., an interview with Wallis Annenberg (a philanthropist), couple of pages about woman heroes…. But then: 4 pages devoted to breasts. Not kidding.

It made me wonder (yet again) why the hell out of all cities in the world, I landed in this city. I know it’s supposed to be cool, ironic and funny. Somehow it isn’t.

And then I imagined a November issue of New York Magazine devoted to N.Y. men. And a 4 pages article about their penises. Am sure they’d have much more amazing stories to tell.

Please, just let me be (a Woman)

Oh, I am so tired of making excuses! When I’m thin, I “must take care that I don’t become anorexic”. When I start gaining weight, I’m warned that my “dad’s family tends to be overweight” so I should be careful.

I worked as a manager in telecommunications business and my boyfriend was angry because I was “too concentrated on your career”.

I go to university in my trainers and I’m warned that I should take care “not to become one of those intellectuals who don’t wear make up and only own black clothes.”

Then I hear Alice Schwarzer say “you cannot fight for women’s rights and look girly”. So when I put my beloved dress on I’m scared I look “too much like a doll”.

When I read The Economist and Die Zeit and Spiegel, they say I’m boring. But then I have to feel guilty when once in a while I fetch Gala or Elle.

I have to think about how many men I had sex with. If that number is OK or not. Who cares?

I date a young man and they say “but he’s too young”. When he is muscular, he’s “primitive”. A business man has “not so much in common”. When he is an artist, then he “cannot give me any security”. And then the same people ask me why I’m alone!

When I wear make up, they wonder what I’m hiding. When I war none, they wonder why I don’t take care of myself.

When I show my intelligence I hear that “men don’t like clever women”. When I enjoy shopping with girls they say I “behave like a bimbo”.

When I feel great I hear “you scare men off”. When I feel shit it’s “but men like happy women”.

When I say I practice tai-chi sword, they say “oh you’re the kind of a woman that could kill a man.” When I say I also dance ballet, they ask me if I can do the split. Oh, please!

When I say I want to find the right man and marry him and have kids, they blame me for “clichés”. Because I didn’t yet find the right man and marry and have kids, they wonder “what’s wrong” with me.

When I say I don’t like going to clubs anymore, they say “oh, you got old”. When I had my fringe cut, I was blamed to “look too young”.

They say my breasts are too small, and then they bitch against plastic surgery. They show me porn with all those balloons and wonder why I feel bad because I have none.

When I offer to pay, I feel like a feminist. When I don’t, I feel like a whore.

I was asked in awe “why the hell do you want to do a PhD”? Why not - my both grandfathers had one?

I only see pictures of women with perfect bodies and then they say “but we like women who feel comfortable in their skin.”

When I get excited about politics, they look at me in surprise. Just as they do when I discuss Barangelina’s upcoming divorce.

And now, I have to feel bad about having written all of this. Someone might get something wrong. I’m so sorry.

Horny, monogamous, glowing Hulks

Great! I’m reading in The Economist that scientists have identified both the hormone for monogamy and the protein molecule that acts as a receptor. It is called vasopressin. They have already turned a certain “promiscuous” mice type into monogamous mice. And out of some reason (I’ve lost the thread here), the article continues explaining how scientists also managed to create mice which glow in the dark. So hey, we’re ready to go. But the article ends with “It may be some time before such interventions are available for human males, but women can always live in hope.” Which asshole wrote that article? Like all men are promiscuous and all women are not... Anyway, I was trying to imagine they really invented a pill for monogamy. Would anyone want to take that pill on their free will? And if not, would we end up with WOmen  (this is not a typo) secretly feeding their men the pill….Then I came to the cocktail of pills they could also give their men to improve them a bit, if they have already invented the secret pill-feeding technique. A pill for monogamy, a pill for weight-loss, a pill for building muscles (do anabolica exist only as injections or also as pills?), a pill against hair loss, a little blue-pill called Viagra for… well, you know for what. We would end up with a world full of mad Hulks running after their exhausted wives with big hard-ons, glowing in the dark. How about a new game: “Recognise your Hulk by his… hmmm…glow!”?

Nay, let’s rather like our men the way they are. Like Austrian author David Schalko said, you can always forgive infidelity, as long as you don’t know about it.

The Economist article

little truths of life

My dad complaining against my new bangs (Stirnfransen/siske): Dad: “I preferred you without bangs. You looked more serious. People look more intelligent when you can see their forehead.” (God woman, you look like a kid now. Grow up finally!)

Me: “Yes, it’s really interesting how people react differently now that I have bangs…” (Yeah dad, but you should see men looking at me since my new hairstyle)

Dad (smiles): ”Yes, men don’t like intelligent women” (Forget it, they’ll keep on running away)

Me, wondering: “Shit, is he reading my mind?”

A love letter to all my ex's

Yesterday, I was driving in my car and I heard a very heartbreaking song by a guy who was dumped by a girl and was completely devastated. His heart was on the floor, his life worth nothing, suicide, same old, same old. And it dawned on me that I have never really been completely devastated because of a man (yeah, one evening of crying and drinking a bit too much of Vodka, but that’s not really what I would call devastation). Maybe because it was usually I who broke up (yes, it might be that I suffer from a “runaway girlfriend” syndrome, but don’t really want to go into that). But maybe also because I learned from my parents how to stay a strong individual and always continue building my world, even when in a couple. So I have something to hold on to when I stay alone.And right now I had a conversation with a friend whose boyfriend dumped her after 6 months of a very serious and perfect relationship which seemed to promise to lead to an altar. She was so broken she needed psychiatric help. And that made me think again. I went through my relationships and suddenly felt fantastic – I have never, ever been treated really badly by a man. OK, maybe once, by Mr. P. It all started like “sex only”, but then I fell in love and wasn’t aware of it. We continued the “sex only” thing while he had real relationships with other women. It went on for years. I was very hurt by not being “worth” of being his girlfriend but too much in love to give him up. But then again: mea culpa – I was consciously playing with. So, after I have realised how well my guys actually treated me (no betrayals, no games, no false promises, no disrespect), I had a horrible urge to scream to all my ex-boyfriends/lovers/affairs: THANK YOU GUYS, YOU WERE GREAT!!!!!!


The Managers & Nancy Pelosi's Breasts

Today, I was thinking about the influence this crisis will have on the image of men. Because hey - they created the crisis! Especially those “winner” types: clever, strong, visionary…. fighters, winners, leaders. The MANAGERS. Will it move us more in the direction of…. the more handy men?So I asked my friends on Twitter/Facebook (and formulated my question a bit too clumsy): Will it move the idea of ideal man away from suit and tie? My favourite answer (to my stupid question): “I prefer them without clothes” I agree. But then… am not sure if I really wanna see the CEO of AIG naked. Anyway, if posed right, I think that the question is really interesting.

And my second thought of the day: God, it must be a hard job being Nancy Pelosi!!! I wonder how it must feel when a whole nation (or two or three) is staring at your breasts while they listen to their leader’s (too long) speeches? I think that the camera in the House of Congress urgently needs to find a different angle. Save the poor woman!

"Unavailability" Scholarship For Young Female Scientists

Ladies!I just decided that once I got my Nobel, I am going to offer a (very generous) scholarship for young female biologists/neurologists/psychiatrists who are willing to make a research on a very important and crucial topic: What is it in men that makes them detect when you are unavailable? And: Why do they come in masses once you are unavailable? (Please note that “unavailable” includes not only your relationship status, but also the mental state of “I really cannot bother getting involved with anyone right now”) Imagine the power we had once we finally found that magic button. Because one thing is for sure – you can’t fake the “unavailability”. Just as they can detect the real thing, they can detect the faking. This male sixth sense is so strong that it sometimes scares the shit out of me. You know that “Where the hell did you come (back) from??? And why NOW????” feeling? Yeap. So, get ready and start writing your exposés. P.S. Gentlemen – was just wondering, is there a similar 6th sense feature in ladies?


Check them ladies out!Dating a Banker Anonymous is a blog started by two friends whose relationships with their FBFs (Finance guy Boyfriend) went down with the Wall Street reports. So they started a blog: "Dating A Banker Anonymous (DABA) is a safe place where women can come together – free from the scrutiny of feminists– and share their tearful tales of how the mortgage meltdown has affected their relationships." So if you want to see how some people are REALLY suffering from the economic crisis, go visit them at: http://dabagirls.wordpress.com/ The world is gone mad.

............ Hehe, and the FBFs are (trying to ) fight back: http://www.bankersball.com/2009/01/28/the-curiously-pathetic-life-of-bankers/

Ana's Ode to Manhood

Yesterday, I attended a lecture by Erich Lehner, an Austrian gender scientist. The promising topic of the lecture was “Man: the neglected sex”. The first shock was that Mr. Lehner, although very sympathetic, managed to turn this exciting topic into a sleeping pill. The second shock was his main message: save the poor men, help them, they are in crisis. We expect them to be manly but also have soft skills, be strong but also understaning, go on maternity leave, look like George Clooney, be rich like Bill Gates, etc., etc. WE don't! It is the media that makes you feel we do. We want men to be men, to respect us and to be reliable (plus: we want chemistry, of course). This was so heartbreaking that I immediately wanted to hug all men in the audience and tell them how fantastic they are. Is manhood really suffering a crisis? I didn’t notice that. I mean, yes, all that shaving of breast hair and tons of cosmetics and the quest for a six pack are….well…..not really necessary…… But hey, today’s men are fantastic! They care of their looks (didn’t I write about those muscles few weeks ago?), they are hard working, they are great lovers, they are more open to women and their complex nature (and needs), they can cook and change diapers. And come on, they are still the bosses (in Austria only 6% of top management positions are occupied by women)! So where the hell should a crisis come from?

This got me a bit sad. First, we have women in crisis. Then we have “Frauenpolitik” (women’s policies). Now we should have men in crisis… Männerpolitik? Isn’t our society just totally absurd? I mean, this should be the simplest thing in the world. It is just that we managed to make it so complicated.

And finally, Mr.Lehner mentioned a very interesting statistics: 3x more women attempt suicide. 3x more men are successful in it.

Guys, get your act together. You’re fantastic!

Note to potential husbands

Here's a nice Christmas present to me: My Austrian publisher's catalogue of spring releases just came out. I brought it to my parents yesterday, all proud and excited. And they were also proud and excited. But then they started worrying that once the book is out in Austria, I will never get married. My liberal, intellectual 1968ers parents scared the shit out of me....

So here a plea to all my potential husbands:

1. Check out the category my book is in: LITERATURE! Not autobiography/non-fiction/"Sachbuch"

2. Yes, it does say "some parts autobiographical" - but hey, this sells (after all, I am a marketier by profession)

3.  Isn't it just excellent to live the devil out when you are young so later you know you're not actually missing anything as you're feeding a screaming baby at 3 AM instead of dancing with models in posh clubs?

4. I can cook!!!!!

And here a quote from my book's review in Croatian Playboy (claiming that my book is just opposite of being feminist): "Feminism has failed - because as long as every Carrie is just dreaming of getting married and having a baby, nothing has changed."

Yes, we are a lost generation.....

Women simply are mamas (but what about the minorities?)

From NY Times (thank you Oliver!):

Two British academics took 83 businesspeople — roughly half of them women — and described to them two companies, one that was steadily improving in profitability and an-other that was steadily declining. The subjects were told to pick a new financial director for the firm and were presented with three candidates: a man and a woman who were identical in experience and a lesser-qualified male. The subjects were slightly more likely to pick a man to lead the successful firm but were far more likely to pick the woman to lead the failing one. Two other experiments with similar designs yielded the same result: When presented with men and women to lead a company that’s going down the tubes, people pick the woman…… The theory has some historical evidence to back it up too. When the academics examined the performance of the 100 biggest firms in Britain, they found that women were disproportionately hired as C.E.O.’s only after their firms had been struggling for years. When firms were doing well, they rarely appointed women to lead. Ryan and Haslam say the data also suggest the glass cliff applies to minorities. When you consider this year’s American presidential election, the glass-cliff theory becomes particularly tantalizing — because it might neatly explain the rise of Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. Perhaps it was only during extremely hard times that America would finally consider a woman and a black man for the highest office.

New Men?

Poor men, it seems that they became victims of the same beauty-dictatorship women were suffering under for so long. And we LIKE it! Am I just lucky or do young successful men take more and more care of their bodies? I must admit that I became seriously addicted to “accidentally clapping” a man’s shoulder while talking to him. Because lately, my hand always landed on an iron-like muscle. And my hands (and not only mine) like iron-like muscles. Keep up, boys!

Little F...ed Riding Hood

OK for the start – today, an old granny would live in a nursing home or would have a nurse visiting her regularly. And please, today, a mama would never ever send her daughter to walk alone through a dark wood to visit her old grandmother. Because today’s mom fucked with the wolf too many times. Today’s mom KNOWS the wolf. Maybe he is even still her lover. This is why today’s mom would put the Little Red Riding Hood into her SUV and drive her to the grandmother. Yes, I know it can happen that Little Red Riding Hood’s dad is on a business trip and her brother is ill and the teenage babysitter doesn’t have time to baby-sit because she has an appointment for her pregnancy check up. Well, if it really didn’t work in any other way, then mom would make sure to prepare Little Red Riding Hood for her trip through the woods.

Of course, she would never allow Little Red Riding Hood to wear that red sexy hood! No, off goes the short red number, on goes a long grey coat. And that little skirt and little white socks? No! “Where’s your jeans, Hoody-Baby?” Little Red Riding Hood would whine and tell her mom that it is not fair that Little Green Riding Hood can wear her cool hood and she has to wear that grey sack. Mom would of course hate the idea that her daughter feels inferior so she would allow the red hood. But jeans would have to stay. Next, mom would tell LRRH about her own rape experience. “You know, when I was your age I was hitchhiking to the sea side. And two nice young boys offered me a ride to the next city. But they didn’t take me to a city. They took me into the woods. And tried to rape me. I was lucky that a jogger was passing by, saw what happened and rescued me. You can never, ever trust no one! Not even young nice boys. And especially not wolves!” And finally, she would prepare the basket with wine and cake for the granny, but make sure to put a pepper spray, a mobile phone with 911 on speed dial, and a condom on top. Just for the case that instead of a wolf, Little Red Riding Hood meets a cute hiker and really cannot resist.

So off goes our Little Red Riding Hood into the deep dark woods. And hey, the wolf appears. A modern LRRH would never waste time to talk to an old, hairy wolf. She knows she is too cute for him. She is aware of the fact that she looks a bit like Britney. So today, the wolf would have to put some effort into his appearance if he wants to talk to little girls. He would take a loan to buy a shiny Porsche, put on a fake Rolex (or if he is a finer wolf, a Panerai). He would have his hairs removed by a laser treatment. He would maybe even die the rest of his hair blond and get a funky cut. He would put on a sleek suite and always have a Blackberry in his hand to look very busy. And he would never, ever be so stupidly bold like the wolf in the story and simply ask the Little Red Riding Hood of her grandma’s address. No, he would be all charming and tell LRRH that he actually got lost and needs her help. He would tell her about this urgent business meeting he is going to with investors from Quatar and that unfortunately, he is off to St Moritz tomorrow early in the morning but he would be really happy to thank her for helping him with a nice dinner in Fabios or whatever fancy restaurant there is in that wood. He would entangle her into a nice conversation so that she wouldn’t even realising she is giving him her grandma’s address.

Of course, today’s granny is just like today’s mom – she met the wolf many times before and wouldn’t simply let him in. But maybe the last time she met the wolf was very, very long ago (she only became granny when she was 80) and already forgot how bad the wolf was. She would like the wolf’s charm, and after all, the new wolf looks like a fine young man, so she would let him in. And actually, today’s granny wouldn’t even be endangered, because the oldest woman today’s wolf would eat would be 26. 27 is too close to 30 and that is too close to a biological clock. But for the sake of the story we have to assume our wolf either didn’t eat a woman for so long that he is starved to death and would eat just anything. Or that he is so hungry for Little Red Riding Hood’s young flesh that he will make himself devour granny with his eyes shut, visualising the pinkness that’s already on her way to him.

Now, Little Red Riding Hood arrives to granny’s house and sees that big, hairy wolf in her granny’s bed. Come on! What the hell happened to our Little Red Riding Hood in the original story? Was she blind? Or did she eat some weird mushrooms in the woods and was too high to react? How could she not recognise the wolf in her granny’s nightie? Whatever was going on with the original Little Red Riding Hood, today’s Little Red Riding Hood would immediately react. She would try to run and find her phone to call 911. She would kick wolf’s arse with her Taek Won Do moves. But, although she is the junior champion in Taek Won Do, the wolf is bigger and stronger and would manage to catch her and eat her.

And now comes the hunter. In contrary to the hunter from the tale, today’s hunter who passes by a house and hears an old woman snoring loudly wouldn’t react. He would either think that the old woman has an old lover or he simply wouldn’t give a shit about the old woman. But we have a very nice hunter here who kills the animals but helps old people so he would go in to check on the old lady. He would find the wolf asleep in the bed, and would immediately shoot him. Our nice hunter does not shoot the wolf but cuts open his belly and frees Little Red Riding Hood and granny. In the story, the hunter skins the wolf and everybody lives happily ever after.

BUT! In our story, the hunter doesn’t care about wolf’s skin! He wants a reward for having freed the ladies. So while granny is collecting her savings to pay the hunter, the wolf starts chatting up the LRRH and explaining to her what has actually happened: He was driving by on his way to a business meeting and remembered that her poor ill granny is alone and wanted to check up on her. The crazy old witch opened the door and so badly wanted to be eaten by him that she simply jumped into his mouth. And the moment he saw LRRH, he was so overwhelmed with love that he lost his brains and just wanted to be as close to her as possible. Oh, he swallowed her out of pure love! Hearing this story from this charming, loving, strong, cool wolf, Little Red Riding Hood would become totally disgusted with her old crazy grandmother. Yes, she knows her mom warned her – but this wolf is different! This wolf is nice and successful and soooo strong! And he loves her!

She would make sure the old witch was locked into a nursing home. And then she would move into granny’s house with wolf, her cool new boyfriend. Every day, while wolf would go to his imaginary business meetings (actually he would just drive through the woods searching for young flesh), she would work hard at her new job as a secretary – this way they at least had one secure income. After all, the Porsche needs regular service. And she likes her wolf in his Prosche. The wedding will of course be postponed for better times.

So basically today, not the wolf would get fucked. The poor old granny would get fucked. And then the Little Red Riding Hood would get fucked. Because after she gave birth to wolf’s two kids and his business has finally kicked off, he would find a Little Pink Riding Hood (she is of course 15 years younger than LRRH) and marry her. Women never learn their lessons.

And the wolf would live happily ever after.

Are we becoming prude?

I just read an article by a Croatian writer saying that paparazzi pictures showing Kate Moss’ underpants as she is exiting a car prove how our society is becoming more and more prude. She claims that we watch paparazzi pictures of drunk, half naked or messed up celebrities because we are shocked about their behaviour. I see it opposite. We look at paparazzi pics not because they shock us but because they calm us. The world of celebrities went so far to become a parallel, virtual universe. Through plastic surgery, private fitness trainers and Photoshop, the celebrities look too perfect, even plastic. Never in the history have actors and celebrities earned such amounts of money. And lately, they also manage to have perfect families. The pictures of Kate Moss’ underwear and drunk Britney help us remember (or realise) that they too are only human. So first one part of media earns by making them seem über-human, then the other part of media earns by showing that they are human after all. That makes double profit. And we are the idiots who gladly pay for all of that. And then we also pay for plastic surgery and designer clothes, hoping that we too can look the part… And as for the prude, just look at a few videos on MTV or a few ads in magazines. You can also go to galleries and see what sells as art. No, we are far from becoming prude.

Bambi or Wolf?

God, I survived a walk in the woods with a heterosexual man!

I normally go for my weekly wood magic with my gay neighbour (and friend) Patrick. And it is always plain beautiful: In spring, we are excited about the little pink and white buds coming out of the wet and dark earth, later in the year we pluck Bärlauch (ramson or bear’s garlic) and discuss the best Bärlauch recipes. In summer, we lie on a little chequered blanket and bask in the sun. And in the fall, we search for mushrooms in all colours and sizes. Like we did last weekend in the Little Red Riding Hood wood – it really was like a scene from a Disney cartoon.

Well, today was the first time in a long, long time that I went into a wood with a hetero man. And no, it wasn’t all about the big bad wolf eating poor Little Red Riding Hood behind a bush. First, we got lost – my walker was absolutely sure he knew his way around as he is mountain biking through this wood every week. Then, we ended up climbing a VERY high hill. And then we were even more lost, soon sliding down a very steep slope covered in slippery red leafs. Please note: I was wearing little golden adidas shoes. So once we managed to get off the slope (finally), I ended up sinking in mud – not only did my little golden shoes disappear in black mud but so did my cool jeans, all the way up to my knees. Thank god the hetero man on my side was big and strong and immediately fished me out. I really love woods, but I swear to God, I just wanted to get out of that one.

What is it about gay men?  How can they make any wood into a Bambi paradise? Why are butterflies and rabbits and flowers dancing in the sun whenever a gay man enters a wood? I mean, when you go into a wood with a gay man, you could as well put on your thinnest stilettos and you would be ok…. I don’t know. It’s…magic. Gay magic. Or am I simply a fag hag?

  I don’t get it.

But since writing about woods (again), here my favourite wood joke:

“Aha! Little Red Riding Hood!” says Big Bad Wolf, upon finding the girl in the woods. “Now I’m going to take off your little read cape, lift up your little red skirt, pull down your little red panties and fuck your brains out!”

“Oh no, you’re not, Mr. Wolf,” Red Riding Hood retorts, pulling a pistol out of her basket and drawing a bead on the wolf. “You’re going to eat me just like the book says!”


Maybe that is it! In the woods, girls either want to meet Bambi or Wolf! Not sink in mud.

"New Man" or Are we all becoming "Everything"?

I am on a desert island, it is hot and beautiful and the only internet access is over a telephone line. Plus I am very busy swimming, sleeping, eating and reading. All together – the brain melted and is currently working on “the island mode”, so writing a regular blog is kind of a serious challenge. Please, bare with me through those “tough” times which will last till the end of September.Reading Croatian newspapers is a crucial part of the island life but not really inspiring. Still few days ago, I came across an article about the “New Man”. Yes, just another article about how poor men are today because they are expected to be sensible and tough in the same time. Well, if you ask me, they are in the exactly same position like new women who are expected to be educated, have a career, look beautiful, stay eternally young, work hard, be independent and in the same time be dedicated wives and mothers. I thought about this strange situation in which men are expected to be like women and women are expected to be like men and then the part of my brain that didn’t yet drown in the Adriatic Sea started thinking beyond the gender topic – actually, aren’t we are all expected to become EVERYTHING? Not only are women becoming men and men women, we are becoming citizens of a few countries simultaneously, we are multilingual, we are either switching careers or have parallel careers. But look at this: we also becoming both eternal children and eternal seniors. We are prolonging our childhood and the state of singlehood to our late thirties. Even when we become parents (and partners), we still allow ourselves toys, flexibility and adventures. (Interesting book on this topic: Pascal Bruckner “The Temptation of Innosence”). In the same time, the brutality of turbo capitalism is pushing us into (professional) responsibility, reliability and hard work typical for experienced adults from the very beginning of our work life – forcing us to become (professional) “old people” already in our early twenties. (Here, I am touching the topic of Richard Senett’s “The Corrosion of Character: The Personal Consequences of Work in the New Capitalism”, another highly recommendable book about how capitalism is influencing our character, turning us into endlessly flexible beings (the German translation of the title is “Der Flexible Mensch”). So little by little, starting with the “New Man” I landed on the aliens as we know them from SF: highly developed beings for which the difference between old/ young, male/female, Austrian/Croatian no more exists. But ugh, I have to admit that I really do prefer the “Old Man” to E.T…..

Albanian Virgins

Oliver has sent me a very interesting article from Herald Tribune about Albanian virgins. Don't laugh. For centuries, those women who decided to become men only had to make a resolution, cut their hair and put some trousers on. And – not have sex! Which turns celibacy into the key, meaning they believe it is the female sexuality that makes woman intor a woman. Not her physical or mental characteristics.

So basically, it was possible to achieve equality even in that brutal and very patriarchal environment. These virgins are treated like men. They manage their families like men, they kill like men and rule like men. They hang out with men.

And I was just thinking how we could apply this without any problems. Nothing would change. We anyway wear our hair short, only wear jeans and trousers. And have almost no sex. Aaaargh! We ARE men!!!!!! 

Here's the link. Thank you Oliver.