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44 of 365: Bad Boys

There is an idea out there in the world that is held up as being a universal truth that all women prefer ‘bad’ boys.

So I ask, Do they? Do women really like ‘bad’ boys?

I don’t know.

I’m a woman and I can only speak for myself, but I definitely don’t. I think ‘bad’ boy types are wankers – all piss and importance and ugly arrogance. And they’re usually incredibly selfish. I struggle to find the appeal in that, the same way a man would struggle to find such a woman attractive.

I like men who like women. I like men who appreciate women. They don’t have to like every individual woman they come across. Even I don’t like them all. But, in general terms, I like a man who enjoys the unique qualities of a woman; the things that set her apart from a man.

I like a man who doesn’t talk-down to women or treat them rough. Mean is not cool. It’s just mean. I can’t imagine that all the parents out there raised their daughters just so they could go off and be treated badly by someone. I have nieces and I pray they find partners who love them, treat them kindly, hug them lots, and enhance their happiness and their lives.

Bad boys are not for me so I just ask that I stop being lumped in with the ‘likes’ and ‘preferences’ of ‘all women everywhere’ just because I’m female. We are actually a diverse lot with eclectic tastes.

And … while I’m on it, not all of us like shopping either! Or dream of a fairy tale wedding. Or  … the list goes on.

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34 of 365: Sex and drugs and rock and roll

Actor Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his bathroom with a needle in his arm.

Why?

Why would he need to be a drug addict? Was he deeply unhappy? Was his life so terrible that he just wanted to get away from it; to escape to some place where everything was so much better than what he was living? Was every moment agony?

He was an A-list, Oscar-winning, working actor who was highly regarded by his peers. He had a young family. He was one of the lucky few to be doing what he loved and getting paid handsomely for it. I bet he owned real estate. Right there he’s already better off than 80% of the population.

Sometimes I think that actors and rock stars are spoilt brats who have it too easy. Everything they want and desire is at their fingertips. They have an endless entourage of people willing to do their bidding and accommodate their every whim. They forget that a much harder life exists beyond their protected, molly-coddled ones, and that their drug and alcohol abuse just makes them look over-indulged. And way too rich.

They need to work a shit job for minimum wage. They need to drag their sorry arses out of bed every morning when they’re tired and unmotivated, and get themselves to a job they hate and that bores them, but one they have no choice but to do because they need to survive. And one which, at the end of the week, provides them with just enough money to pay a small portion off their 30 year mortgage or, worse, their rent.

They need to have four weeks holiday a year and have to save like a demon for economy-class airfares just so they can go somewhere to make them feel as if their life isn’t one long drudge.

They need to feel the stress of not being able to pay their electricity bill, or the fear of their rental property being whipped out from under them.

They need to count their pennies at the supermarket and forego the fresh salmon for tinned.

They need to spend their weekends washing, shopping, cooking and cleaning, in between running the kids to sport and trying to fit in 5 minutes for themselves.

The average person is probably far more stressed and unhappy than they are.

And if they are stressed and unhappy – go to counselling.

Everything is done for big-name stars so maybe they drink and do drugs because they’re bored out of their heads?

I don’t know but, whatever their reasons, it’s a huge pity their addictions of choice are so destructive and oftentimes fatal.