October 20, 2011

those things called jocks

Let's discuss jocks. Stereotypically jocks are defined as "dumbass 'athletes' who get all the chicks in high school." To take it further, they like to wear rather metrosexual clothing, feel the need to grunt and yell quite loudly and they never walk - only swagger or jog to show off their impeccably large muscles. And they hang out with loud, flirty girls who tend to show their belly buttons at any given opportunity. Remember we're speaking stereotypically here.

Jocks are not to be confused with athletes. For athletes the sport is what matters, not all the other things surrounding it. True athletes are not jocks. Jocks are the people who are actually in fact are only minimally sporty - it's the image that they like. Common ways to recognise the species is a plethora of white canvas shoes, tight singlets and short fluro shorts, all of which are commonly defined as a fashion crime amongst the non-jock species. Another key factor is the shaving of legs, which has been around for quite some time, but apparently a new phenomenon has hit: they are now shaving their armpits too! I think what's occurring here is really quite obvious. They are becoming more and more female.

There is no such thing as a female jock. For a female athlete, or just a sporty one, is just that: a sporty athlete. The girls that are most often acquainted with jocks are not jocks. They are apparently 'popular', and as my friend Niall defines it, they are 75% "hot", 3% intelligent and the rest is filled up with bitchiness. Best description I've ever heard.

I understand that I am being exceedingly judgmental here. But realistically, you are not are jock, and if you were, you would probably be too consumed with yourself to realise that I am talking about you. The inspiration for this rant is not mere speculation, it is fact based on a particular group of people I see relatively often. I don’t know them personally of course and I’m sure they have lovely characteristics but the way they act… oh gosh.

There is zero consideration. The jock species cares about I’m sure about a lot of things, but my research has led me to think the top three are as follows: looking tough, drinking, and showing off in front of girls. Kindness to others does not seem a priority. A particular colony of the species I have in mind took three tables amongst themselves – one to sit under, and the other two to hold up the one they were going to sit under. How thoughtful to the other six groups of people who ended up eating their lunch on the ground.

Drinking. While the consumption of alcohol is obviously an activity not of jocks alone, they sure do love to talk about it. In raised voices. In the library.  All the time. While I like that people have enjoyable weekends, I do not care much that “next weekend at Brooke’s is going to be even better than Jake’s last Friday night.” I once heard a group of 3% girls (the aforementioned female acquaintances of jocks) talking about how they were going to have a party and only invite HOT people. They then proceeded to think of an invitee list. I can tell you their voices were not hushed. I hope none of their not-HOT friends were nearby.

The 3% girls are the reason jocks tend to kick the footy in a non-footy area amongst people who are trying to conduct conversation and, at times, homework. And let’s not descent into the mystery of their brains – it could be horrifying to discover such little activity. Jocks love to impress the 3% girls. This is where the “I refuse to walk, I instead prefer to swagger or jog” attitude comes from.  You will not see a jock simply putting one foot in front of the other. If you do, please photograph it and send it to the Discovery Channel.

October 18, 2011


My day has been a very weathery day today (not that that's even a word). It got to a lovely 20° for the first time in quite a while and while sitting on my deck in the sun I was reading a book set in a snowy American Christmas. It got me thinking that here is a common misconception that Tasmania has the crappiest weather ever. I beg to differ. Besides ten months in New Zealand, I have lived in Tas my whole life and am therefore appoint myself able to correctly comment on the weather patterns. I am sick of my fellow Tasmanian teenagers moaning and groaning about the weather. Sure, it may not necessarily be their preference to be living here, but just bloody well shut up about it. We do have crappy weather sometimes and sure, it gets pretty darn cold in winter. But it does not have the worst weather EVER. It does not snow except on the mountains, we reach 30° occasionally in the summer and humidity in Tasmania is higher than say Melbourne or Sydney.

My interstate and international relatives all assume Tassie to be absolutely freezing and are surprised when their visits are pleasantly warm in Spring and Autumn. I of course complain about the weather as the biggest annoyance is the inconsistence of it all. Four seasons in one day is quite the possibility. Personally I really like Tasmanian weather. I don't love the cold - it's fine if I have enough clothes on - but I hate the heat. Like really hot. I cannot cope with a temperature above about 25° or so. And seeing as the coldest it gets is the rare -1° in the middle of the  winter I don't see what we have to complain about it. There are plenty of other places in the world with worse weather. Minimal sunlight, freezing cold temperatures and then ridiculously humid heat that they cannot even function in the afternoon.

Weather seems to be a universal and always relevant - but a slightly boring topic. Ever in doubt of the direction of a conversation? Mention the weather. I think that weather can actually affect mood quite significantly. I got a bit of a case of the winter blues this winter after exams and taking Vitamin D pills certainly helped. We all need a bit of sunlight every now and then. So regardless of personal preference to temperature, rain and sunlight just stop complaining about the weather. If it's cold, put a jumper on. If it's hot, take it off. See? Simple! Weather patterns will not be the end of the world and there are probably better things to do with time than complain about them. After all we have no control over it. Best to enjoy it and be content than to be positively miserable. Then you never know, you may be surprised and get a day like today.

October 8, 2011

mac attack

I am regrettably going to be one of those people who feel the need to inform the world that I now have a MacBook Pro. It's been all a bit of a coincidence: this week I purchased a MacBook a mere twelve or so hours before Apple founder and former CEO, Steve Jobs, passed away due to pancreatic cancer. Twitter erupted with RIP messages and thank you tweets to the man who innovated the way we communicate. Apple fans went particularly nuts, while others could not see what the fuss was all about. For me, my new laptop is my first ever Apple product, but even before it arrived yesterday, I have been a fan of the brand and somewhat admired Steve Jobs and the rest of the Apple team for what they create.

My Dad has had a Mac for a couple of years, but the different operating system to the PC's that I was used to using just confounded and frustrated me. It wasn't until I made the school yearbook (with a team of other students) last year on an iMac that I truly began to appreciate Steve Jobs innovation. I admit I used to hate Mac's, but that was simply due to my own incompetence at using them. I'm not going to enter the Mac vs PC debate, as I simply could not care what computers people use, but I will say this: if you simply have a go at using a Mac and push at it, you'll never go back.

I think the technology world has lost a great individual this week. I'm not trying to glorify him, as people often are after death, but as one tweet said - a lot of us couldn't be updating RIP tweets if it weren't for him. Some people have made fun of the matter with jokes such as iDied going around and Westboro Baptist Church (who really need to learn that shoving opinions down others throats is not effective) are planning to picket his funeral. Mind you, when Westboro leader, Margie Phelps, tweeted that they would be picketing his funeral - she tweeted via iPhone. Silly silly woman. I obviously did not know Steve Jobs personally, he could've been a gentleman or an asshole for all I know, but not only did he acquire Pixar in the early days, but he designed my new computer. And I really like it.