Insight

Tweenagers. They are a new market of 6 - 12 year olds that have become a growing target market for advertisers, retailers and product companies. To me girls and boys this age are children, not tweenagers. "Tweenagers" seems to be a new word invented by advertising companies to desribe a new market that they can promote products to.

Despite my thoughts on this, the label tweenagers and tweens are well used terms these days.

I have had a concern for a while, when I have stood in the queue at the supermarket and seen magazines with fully made up young girls on the cover, aimed at young girls. I have also been shocked to see bras, g-strings and bikini's, and other revealing clothing marketed towards young girls. The reason for my concern is that I am not sure that young girls should be exposed to the kinds of imagery and promotional materials that encourage them to seek products that make them appear older, or even s*xualise them. How is this all affecting young girls, the way they view themselves, their bodies, and the way they act. Come to think of it, how does this affect the way that young boys may react to young girls, and women in their future?

It may sound like I have an extreme response to this, you may think that it is solely a parents job to limit what their children are exposed to, and I do agree. I was limited from watching, buying and being exposed to things that my parents deemed inappropriate for my age. Even though at the time I didn't appreciate these limitations, I thank them now for allowing me to enjoy my childhood.

My worry is that a parents limitations and rules, may one day not be able to stand up to the strength of multi-million dollar advertising campaigns. Even now, I am sure that there are many parents who find it difficult to enforce rules and limitations with the constant barrage of persuasive marketing campaigns.

I am not in the advertising industry per say, but I am part of the design industry. I have been lucky not have to work on projects that oppose my morals, and I am not sure what I would do if I was faced with the choice. There are many that I would never touch, there are other less extreme projects that I may consider. It is scary though to think that decisions that I make, affect decisions that other people may make about a company or a product, that could then go on to affect the way that they live their lives.

I am glad that I watched Insight this evening, which covered this issue from varying viewpoints, including those of children, parents, phsychologists, doctors, media and advertising representatives. The transcript should be later this evening of tomorrow. Check it out if you have time.

My public transport journey…

AM

• Usually begins by missing the green man at the traffic lights and waiting a whole cycle before I am able to cross.
• Moves on to trying to buy a “travel ten” from the newsagency, and perhaps the daily paper. From a man who appears to be blind and doesn’t see me standing right in front of him dangling the paper and a $10.00 note. He could also try smiling once in a while so he seems more like a human being and less like a terracotta warrior.
• Continues with me standing at the bus stop, either being sprayed by a high pressure hose seeking to remove last nights vomit from the sidewalk, and/or being harassed by the possible owner of said vomit as he looms in front of me and try’s to crack on to me. Me responding to his dribble by saying, “I do not want to talk to you” Sounds cruel I know, but you have to cut him off at the pass because if you smile politely he may follow you to work.
• Then I get on the bus and stand like a sardine, pressed up against a rather unattractive male who attempts to look down my top, or read the newspaper over my shoulder. If I am lucky enough to get a seat it will be next to a high school student yelling at her girlfriend down the phone, “Oh my God, did you see what Chantal was wearing yesterday? Oh my god, we so can’t talk to her anymore.” (Please tell me that I didn’t sound like that in high school!)
• Another passenger yelling at the bus driver, for no reason other than they haven’t had their morning fix of coffee yet, and the bus driver didn’t think to read there mind and stop when they didn’t physically push the stop button.
• I then depart bus A and head for bus B, which I squeeze onto amongst throngs of uni students. Though this trip is getting easier the further into the semester they get, and realise that they don’t want to go to uni anymore, or don’t want to sit in that lecture. Yay for me!
• Get off the bus and grab a coffee before getting to the office and scrubbing the public transport germs off my hands. “Aaah, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off!” (aka Eliot from Scrubs style)

PM
Usually much of the same, yet in reverse, but sometimes deviates slightly to involve the following:

• Bus driver not letting me and a 75 year old man on the bus because he has decided that he doesn’t want a full load, and also can’t be bothered opening the front door for us, only the back one to let people off. (this happened today)
• Large man with no elastic in his tracky dacks, singing on to his very loud portable radio (think he may have had a few screws loose if you know what I mean?) poor guy I felt sad for him, radio is probably his only friend. I stopped feeling sorry for him when he exposed his large butt to me as he alighted from the bus, and I “Vomited in my mouth a little.” (aka Dr Evil style)
• Speaking of vomit; realise I am beginning to feel a little car sick on the bus, and can’t figure out why, realise that a previous passenger has left a little vomit present at the back of the bus that has not yet been cleaned, stench is nauseating. Perhaps it was the same guy from the morning.

Luckily you do find enough nice bus drivers, passengers and non-butt exposing people on the public transport system that keep you from stopping taking the bus.

Ok, so I know this is my third post for the day but...

Ok, so I know this is my third post for the day but...cool things just keep happening. Actually, let me rephrase that, wierd things keep happening.

Earlier today I went for a walk to the post office and on the way a man passed by me, he was readjusting himself (if you know what I mean). Now I don't have a problem with a little 'readjustment' in certain circumstances, like not when men are talking to me or looking at me, but doing it in a hidden corner with a timing of around .2 of a second. But this guy, well he had his whole hand in the trousers, was heading straight towards me on a busy inner city footpath, and the 'readjustment' lasted about...however long it took him to walk 50 metres. Which is waaaayyyy longer than the previous .2 second time limit. I was horrified!

Just now, actually about ten minutes ago, a woman stood directly under my apartment window and dropped her dacks in the middle of the footpath, on a busy Friday night, in a street filled with people. Then she yelled "I am going to vomit!" All I could think was, 'Please, please, please go away, as I don't think I can take seeing your g-string clad a*se as well as your vomit'.

Now I didn't think I was really prudish, but after being exposed to 2 counts of 'readjustment' by both men and women, one involving naked a*se, I have decided that I am a total prude. Though, I am looking forward to the Madri Gras in March, thought any 'readjustments' there I expect would all be made in jest.

Public Urination

I have started going for a walk everyday, for fitness and also to have a bit of a look around this new city. I have been choosing new directions each day and it’s been a great way to examine all of the areas that we do and do not want buy into in the future. On Monday I went for a great walk, lots of beautiful streets and houses, great weather. Which all ended with me walking down the road and some old guy showing me his winky, and then proceeding to do his business! Yeah! I am not lying, it was the most disturbing thing I have seen in a long time. You think he could have just found a bathroom rather than scarring the 100 or so people on the street.

I know it happened on Monday but it took me a couple of days to be even able to come to terms with the fact that I had seen something that looked like a prune, before I could then expose you to the horror.

Retraction

Just after my birthday I received a lovely birthday card, which I wrote about on this site. The card was from my Dad. In the card my Dad mentioned that I was entering into my 25th year. After I saw the 25, my initial reaction was to jump to the conclusion that he thought I was 25, after re-reading the card at a later date I realised that this wasn’t the case at all. Just that I was entering my 25th year, which actually is CORRECT!

Initially I didn’t bother writing a retraction about the 25 hoo haa, as no one in my family was reading my site. Until I foolishly thought that I could trust my 16 year old brothers. (*Note to Self: you love your brothers but they are not yet capable of keeping all of the secrets you might like them to) I just had a panicked call from my good ole Dad, saying that he was so sorry that I thought, that he thought that I was 25! He thought that I was offended because my Bro’s told him I had written about it on this site, which I had, but hadn’t corrected myself, until now.

So I stand corrected:
My Dad does not think I am 25
My brothers aren’t capable of keeping secrets just yet, but that is only natural for 16-year-old boys who get excited when they are telling stories!

And:
Many more people now know about my website than I had initially anticipated, but I suppose that I am comfortable with that. After all, one of the reasons I started writing was so that people would read, why else would you publish written works on the Internet!

Welcome to the era of the public blog, these are exciting times! Like Dooce and many who have come before me, I have managed to upset someone close to me, my good ole Dad, who is a fantastic card writer, Volvo driver and loving and concerned parent.

Sorry Dad, love you Dad and loved your card.