Posts by Danielle
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surnames in most of the Western World, are patriachal
Funny you should mention that: my New Zealand passport gives my name, technically, as 'Danielle Cara [Father's Last Name] [Mother's Maiden Name]' because my birth certificate is Venezuelan and that's how they do things there. Which makes me wonder just how long names in Spanish-speaking countries can get. (Charo's full name: María Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Gutiérrez de los Perales Santa Ana Romanguera y de la Hinojosa Rasten.)
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In our case we have relatives who do this very deliberately.
I can't actually work out if this is them being passive-aggressive twatcocks, or just sheer mental laziness. But it is rather difficult to bring up because I'm kind of... not very confrontational with in-laws. At all. It seems churlish (dammit, this 'girls must be polite' thing is kicking me in the ovaries again).
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Mr and Mrs His Full Name ones
These. Seriously, man. What. The Fuck. And even the Danielle His Last Name cards, which were sort of understandable, maybe, are now *totally* inexcusable because many of the relatives who send us these things are friends with me on Facebook, where it is eye-piercingly obvious that my awesome, thematically consistent French-assed name *remains* awesome, thematically consistent, and French-assed. </rage>
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until I pointed out to her that to me it was like devoting my secret mountain of gold stashed on Jupiter to the Catholic Church
I have an atheist friend who did the full Catholic mass marriage ceremony for his betrothed's benefit, for much the same reasons. I couldn't, because I'm such a picky arsehole that I would never be able to leave my partner alone on this issue. 'But WHY do you believe in magic? It's stupid!'
I am not so much crying as leaking.
I just watched the Dan and Terry one. Where are my aloe vera tissues? Did Bart steal them all? (Also, is there a point at which I stop loving Tim Gunn more and more every time I see him?)
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Personally, I was always haunted by the "disappearance" of brother Chuck.
Seriously, 3410! Where did that guy GO? And to never speak of him again... they were quite heartless, those Cunninghams.
What I love are the people saying 'but he wasn't being racist, it was just some off-the-cuff remarks'. Yeah. Remarks which were, uh, totally fucking racist. What, do you have to be actually burning a cross on a guy's lawn before someone calls something racist in this country? MEH.
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Yes that makes me a complete sap I know
I'm waving at Bart: come over here to Saps' Corner. We have tissues. The kind with aloe vera.
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I can't speak for Mrs, but I detest being called Ms.
Heh. I HATED being called 'Miss', and I equally HATE being called 'Mrs', and insist on 'Ms' everywhere. We damn wimminz, with our variables.
I got married in 2001, before even giving this whole equal rights thing much thought. (For I was/am privileged and ignorant, yadda. There is also a wee diamond in my wedding ring, for the same reasons. Also, once I threw out a recyclable plastic container because it had been in the fridge so long I couldn't bear to open it and see the horrors within. Mea culpa.) But I am the yappy little dog of gay marriage now, oh yes. I think this 'fuck the institution altogether' thing is all very well unless you're one of the group of people who would very much like to dress up like a penguin/meringue* and isn't allowed to because of the Wrong Number of Penises.
*I wore black to my wedding, so I suppose I was the penguin in that instance.
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Not being overly familiar with Auckland venues, I'm relieved to read your positive thoughts on that particular venue Damian.
The Powerstation is a really good venue if you're short, too. I heart it.
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Very, very belatedly: I fucking hate gardening, and I would be rather peeved if I was in a rental property and forced to tend silverbeet so I could learn about the wonders of fresh produce. Still, if it was a *community* garden it might be bearable - all the people who like mud and worms could be elbow-deep while I lurked in one corner making cups of tea and saying 'eww' at regular intervals.
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So basically I pretty much only buy books that can't be got from the library.
But *everything* can be got from the library, thanks to the wondrousness of interlibrary loan! </former interlibrary loan person who spent hours tracking down holdings of obscure things>
I must say I don't really buy books anymore either, mainly because we don't have room for ANYTHING in this miniscule house, which is packed to the rafters with posters and DVDs and books and baby equipment and STUFF. Occasionally there's something I can't bear to be without, but it's usually visually-oriented. I think the last book we just HAD to own was, uh, a pictorial biography of Van Halen. (No, seriously, I challenge you to just look at it for five minutes: you can't stop laughing. It is the most ludicrous book I've ever, *ever* seen.)