from An Open Letter

I had my book club today, and I was passionately, talking and making jokes about the book, and explaining the issues that I found with it. It’s like one of those things where I kind of complain or play it up a little bit and just am generally a very expressive person. This friend is not at all expressive, and she said that I was like really emotional about it, and I kind of felt like I took it as an insult, or like this person thought that I was legitimately mad or upset about this book. I honestly got a little bit defensive, and I reminded them that I’m just doing this kind of for content because I think it’s fun but I really don’t care, I can talk about it in a really bland way and I’m completely OK not talking about it either. But I think it’s just generally more entertaining and fun to be expressive. And I think about how this is a little bit like my general approach to life of trying to keep my energy and enthusiasm up where I can. I feel like I am orbiting my resting state of depression. The more enthusiastic and joking and energetic I am the faster I go, and it stops me from crashing. But if I go too fast, it is also destructive and I lose orbit. And I think this is a fairly good analogy for life. Staying in that sustainable band and orbiting.

 
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from Things Left Unsaid

My coffee mug gets empty too fast. I don't have enough time to just sit here and type this garbage.

I pack my lunch, and walk to work. I show up on time, and punch the clock. I say, good morning to some, before work begins. Sometimes we chat, and sometimes not. Work begins.

Safety is paramount above all things. I work hard, and I work efficiently. My work is accurate. I help out when asked by my coworkers. I stay calm. I get along. I don't yell. I don't blame, or snitch. I clean as I go. The machine I operate weighs about 4500kg, and can lift pallets down from 8 meters high. It is a lot of responsibility, and requires skill. The task that is assigned to me is dirty, and intense, and has a lot of (at times heavy) lifting involved.

None of that counts for anything.

My worth as an employee is mostly based upon the transactions that go from the scanner on my machine, to the screen on the laptop that my boss stares at all day. Also somewhat whether or not I measure up to the standards of his nepotism (and I mostly don't measure up). A lot of the work I do does not show up on the screen as a transaction. I've pointed that out many times to him, but he a) doesn't like me, and b) I suspect he is going senile.

My worth to my coworkers is mostly based upon whether or not they have to wait for me to deliver the products that they need to assemble orders, and whether or not I'm close by when they need assistance. If I'm on time, and there when they need me; they like me. If I'm not they turn on me in an instant, and won't hesitate to, as they say, 'throw me under the bus'. They expect me to stop 100% of the time, but then also expect me to deliver the products to location on time. They can't see how fucking stupid that is. If I'm doing the one thing, I'm not doing the other. I can't do more than one thing at a time.

It is a toxic and hostile workplace. Sometimes it gets to me, and sometimes it does not. It depends on how well I can drift below the radar. The pay rate when I started there over nine years ago was not too bad, but now it is really not competitive (on top of the sleazy oligarchs vacuuming up the wealth from all things). I know the pay is no longer competitive from looking at job ads.

I think of leaving sometimes. If I left though, I would not get benefits or vacation time for awhile. Possibly never if I ended up being a temp again. The other thing that deters me from leaving is that I would most likely end up doing the same stupid shit anyway. Only it would be in a different building with different people. It could even end up being a more toxic workplace.

I'm out of time. The coffee ran out awhile ago. I have to get ready to go there. I've been doing variations of this more days than not for over 37 years of my life.

It is no wonder I'm so tired.

Long weekend coming.

Less than 30 days to vacation time.

 
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from Atia Maria Arrienda

Hello everyone! My name is Atia Maria. I am a happy girl 👧🏻 who likes to play games, experiment, and do fun and enjoyable activities. I created this blog to share some things about me.

🫶🏻🎄🥼🥋🏆🎲🧸🎮🎥🍪🌻🌸

FAVORITES:

  • food and drink? My Favorite food is sinigang and my favorite drink is milk tea

  • color? My favorite color is sky blue

  • weather? My favorite type of weather is rainy

  • hobbies? My hobby is playing games and watching tv

  • movie? My favorite movie is spiderman

  • game? My favorite game is Call of duty

  • sport/activity? My sport is Taekwondo

  • outfit/style? pajamas

  • holiday? My favorite holiday is Christmas

  • pizza flavor? My favorite flavor is Hawaiian

  • ice cream flavor? My favorite flavor is Chocolate

  • thing to draw? My favorite things to draw are different animals

  • thing to collect? I like to collect squishy

  • Superpower I wish I had? I wish I have telekinesis

  • My dream? To be a successful doctor

  • Things I hate most? I hate rude, disrespectful and boastful people

  • Most important to me? God and My family

Thank you for stopping by my corner of the internet! Now, I can't wait to read yours!❤️

 
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from bios


by Roger Young

“Dolly Parton — love her. She nursed her ill husband till the end. She looked like a complete floozy, but she was a strong and deep human being. RIP.” — Helen Zille

After Dolly Parton’s death last week the DA leader and current Johannesburg Mayoral hopeful Helen Zille tweeted the above – in her words, a “compliment” as tribute to the star’s passing, which sparked a mild middle-class outrage.

In Zille’s defence, she was not calling Parton a floozy, she was saying that she looked like a floozy. Parton herself famously said that, “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.” Zille was merely riffing on this famous line.

But looking “like a floozy” and looking “this cheap” are two very different statements.

Parton’s statement can be read that it’s not cheap to look cheap, that it is an aesthetic choice that is dubbed as “cheap”, because it is the aesthetic of those who are deemed as “cheap”. It is not easy to look the way Parton did, she spent a lot of time and effort and money to do so, and in doing so proved that looking “cheap” was not an accident, those without money who still looked “cheap”, had to put in time and effort to make this aesthetic choice. It was a statement that assigned agency to an aesthetic choice.

Zille’s statement on the other hand assumes that there is a whole category of personhood such as “a floozy” that is not good to look like. She looked like a floozy but that bad choice was redeemed by the fact that she was a deep yadda yadda. She looked like she was promiscuous but at least she nursed her husband.

In Zille’s world Parton nursing her husband gave her a pass on her bad aesthetic choices. In Parton’s world the aesthetic choice was triumphant.

Zille sees Parton’s agency as questionable, which is redeemed by nursing a husband. This completely misses that Parton existed within and entirely externally from those two things. What it doesn’t miss is that this is what Zille chose to see in the life of Dolly Parton. Perhaps Zille was conflating Parton with that other big-haired woman who took care of her husband – Margaret Thatcher.

Let’s talk about floozies then. A floozy by any other name would rhinestone just as sweet.

“a usually young woman who has multiple sexual partners: a woman who is sexually promiscuous — used as a term of abuse and disparagement” — Merriam-Webster

“a woman who has a lot of sexual relationships, or who wears clothes that attract sexual attention in a way that is too obvious. Synonym — slattern.” — Cambridge Dictionary

“If someone refers to a woman as a floozy, they disapprove of her because she has many casual sexual relationships.” — Collins Dictionary

To Helen Zille a floozy is a thing that exists. She was not calling Parton a floozy, but she was saying that this thing, this sexually promiscuous woman who was (clutches pearls) wearing clothes that attract sexual attention is worthy of disapproval. A slattern.

Helen Zille, unwittingly, just admitted that she categorises a whole subset of women as sluts. Not as individuals who make choices based on circumstance or agency or desire or lack thereof or despite or any other myriad confluences of, you know, life, but just plain sluts. Thank Schuster that Dolly only looked like one, she had a husband, you know.

Dolly Parton wrote more than 3,000 songs, sold more than 100 million records, won 11 Grammys and was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame, the Songwriters Hall of Fame and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. She built Dollywood, stimulating investment, tourism and employment in the Appalachians, and used her fortune to fund scholarships and educational initiatives. She donated $1 million to COVID vaccine research. Through the Dollywood Foundation, her Imagination Library has now put more than 330 million free books into the hands of children who might otherwise not have had access to books at all.

When a cover version turned Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” into one of the biggest songs in the history of popular music, Parton earned millions in royalties. She used some of that money to buy an office complex in a predominantly Black neighbourhood of Nashville, saying she wanted to be “down here with her people, who are my people as well”, and called the place “the house that Whitney built.”

Helen Zille likes explaining poverty to poor people, referring to Eastern Cape pupils moving to Western Cape schools as “education refugees”, calling Simphiwe Dana a “professional black”, and, in 2019, defining “black privilege” as “being able to loot a country and steal hundreds of billions and get re-elected”. She has said that being poor in Langa was “a hundred, probably a thousand times better” than being poor in many other townships in the country. Subtext: Your misery caused by a colonialism and apartheid and further entrenched by the DA's property ownership policies is not that bad, make better choices, etc.

In a 2011 declaration of financial interests, Zille listed a R2.5 million house in Rosebank, a R500,000 share in a cottage at Keurboomsrivier. She also has, as per a 2016 disclosure, investments in FirstRand, Reinet, SABMiller and New Gold. Her Rosebank, CT, house was a Victorian property near UCT which she sought permission to demolish and redevelop; after the demolition plans failed, it was sold in 2019 for only R5.5 million.

She has defended a property-owning model of Cape Town in which the middle class pays rates and taxes that subsidise services to poorer residents. While “admirable” this hardly shifts the material circumstances to a place where those with less resources have enough resources to allow them agency.

The same 2011 declaration listed a R750,000 house in Parklands, bought for her domestic worker, Grace Voyiya. Voyiya had worked for the family for about 17 years by then and helped raise Zille’s sons, during this period evidently not having managed to save enough money to buy a home of her own. It is a matter of public record that the bond remains in Zille’s name, and Zille has said there was a verbal agreement that Voyiya was the owner. Which begs questions about the property rights. Zille has said of her, “I certainly did not want her living in a shack.” What Voyiya would have wanted is not a matter of public record. Zille has also defended colonialism.

*“They got you where they want you There's a better life And you think about it, don't you? It's a rich man's game No matter what they call it…” – Dolly Parton – 9 to 5

In Helen Zille’s world a domestic worker needs her choices made for her, and wearing nice clothes to be sexually attractive is bad unless you have a husband.

In the press it is common to write a public figure’s obituary pre-death, so that it is ready to beat out all the other voices clamouring to use grief to gain attention.

Here is my pre-written tweet for Zille.

“Helen Zille — largely indifferent to her. She retained her property rights until the end. She looked like shit, but she defended colonialism and called women sluts. RIP.”

 
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