I started thinking about how they say women make less than men doing the same exact jobs, and wanted to research a theory I came up with from a new perspective.
It seems that places of business that are largely geared toward female employees pay less than those geared toward male dominated employees. Now, while that is a a wage set dictated from company to company it’s a little disappointing. Let me first say that pay higher wages does not depend upon knowledge of the products being sold, and that comes from my experience of setting foot in such establishments in need of someone with a little info on the topic.
While there may be certain catalysts that could contribute to the average hourly wages paid, such as long-term employees, seasonal work, or whatever the case may be, it’s something that should be looked into.
I have to say that it was a bit of a shock, although I expected it. The difference in pay is not that great, but it’s enough to raise a few eyebrows. I think this idea goes back to the old-school where men were expected to bring home the dough and if a woman worked it was for extra spending cash to buy petty things for herself. Extra spending cash to throw around. At least, it seems to be the idea created by a male-dominated work arena. Maybe a remnant of the days when, if a woman worked, she was taking a job from a man.
There are a lot of single and married women who are supplementing the household income struggling to get by on their wages, so to see a seventy-plus-gap in pay rates from women to men respectively is a little unsettling to me. While it is up to each employer to set the pay rate, it’s still upsetting to know that when I go into a shop with women as the primary associates that they are not making the same amount of money as a man who may or may not be able to assist you when you walk into their store to ask a question. I’m seeking out work so it is something that could affect me and while I hope it doesn’t and that the numbers are based upon those variants rather than a true-to-life statistic. Personally, work is work and a job is a job, so anything will be fine by me, as long as I get hired. It seems there isn’t much one can do. Demand higher wages in places where 99% of the workers are women? Sure, there could be a strike, but at the same time, people would be losing out on much-needed cash! It’s a brick wall because what can really be done? But a seventy-cent difference? For similiar work, different establishment? That’s a lot.
I also learned that it is harder for women to seek representation in the field of writing. I’d like to think I can get by on the merit of my work, so to find otherwise is a little disheartening.
I’m considering changing my name to Joseph Corvis to snag a job and an agent.
I wrote this article for Creative Edge Music, an online music mag, to mark the one year anniversary of Whitney’s tragic passing.
Have you gotten your copy yet, or can you handle it?
If you love horror, you shouldn’t be without this book!
It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m happily single, but as I was up listening to some music I somehow started watching country on Youtube. I couldn’t resist when I saw this one; Dwight Yoakam on stage in his prime in that adorable sequined outfit! So, having nothing better to do this early in the morning on Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d reminisce about some of my celeb crushes in no particular order but I am saving my #1 for last. And since I already mentioned him, let’s start with Dwight.
Dwight Yoakam just had this major appeal. Just that certain something. He really knows how to make a country girl swoon. Or a goth girl, in my case.
Fabio. He makes my heart melt like “I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter” on a hot summer day. (Um, sorry for the cliche simile-upon-simile. Southern much?)
Milli Vanilli. Rob and Fab were insanely gorgeous, but Rob had the most gorgeous eyes!
Johnny Depp. Need I say more?
Robert Smith. I think it was all in the eyeliner.
Kevin Corrigan. I loved the mystique he exuded as Uncle Eddy.
Prince William. When I was younger I posted every little newsclipping with his picture to my wall.
Marilyn Manson. The chrome grill in his Tainted Love video did it for me, not to mention his mis-matched eyes and the makeup.
Steve from Blue’s Clues. I took a lot of ribbing over that one and started a Blue’s Clues collection out of nostalgia. Turns out a lot of the BC merchandise is actually worth a little money! Now I’m into DJ Lance. I don’t know whether to give you bonus points or demerits if you know who that is.
John Leguizamo. The man has something about him that I can’t quite place…that je ne sais quoi.
The boy that worked at my local grocery store: He was too old for me then.
Kevin Costner. When I saw him in Robin Hood I fell in love! Never saw The Bodyguard because I didn’t like sappy movies even back then, and I still haven’t seen it. Maybe one day I’ll finally get around to it.
Dion. In his prime, he was too cute for words!
Jesse Bradford. I begged my mom to take me to see that Yellow Dog movie. I don’t think she really knew I’d outgrown animal movies and was more into boys at that time.
Bon Jovi. That smile!
Leo. I wasn’t into him when he was big, but he has this immense talent and
James Dean. He was adorable with that coy little smile but it always looked like he was up to something.
Robin Wilson of The Ginblossoms.
Prince. He has that swag where he thinks he’s gorgeous so it doesn’t matter what you think. In fact I think he brainwashed a vast majority of people into seeing himself as others see him. As he says in his STYLE lyrics, “Style is lovin’ yourself ’til everyone else does, too.”
John Cena. He looks so much like Marky Mark.
And here is my Number One, as if you didn’t know: Marky Mark. I saw The Happening and got the cassette for maybe .49 cents at Goodwill right around the same time. I had to listen to it a couple of times before I liked it and somehow I fell in love, but I don’t know if it was his music or his demeanor in the movie that captivated me. I never refer to him as Mark Wahlberg, much to the chagrin of my hipper friends. And I’m sad to hear that there will be no Funky Bunch reunion. I missed a chance to see The Fighter because as much as I had talked about it, my then-boyfriend opted to take his friend instead and when I expressed some hurt emotion, he said he thought I was joking! Joke about Marky? Never!
The fact he had left me at his grandma’s house and had taken his friend to see the movie sort of ended our relationship. Not to mention that he had taken his other girlfriend to see The Other Guys which I later found out about by my discovery of the ticket stubs.
So that’s my post for Valentine’s Day. Hope yours is a happy one! 😀
Whenever I go out, I pretty much look like a cross between David Bowie, Marilyn Manson, maybe a Spice Girl or two, and a faery thrown into the mix somehow, and that’s in a single outfit. I dated a guy and David Bowie came up. I mentioned that what I liked about him was he dared to be different, while my beau said that’s exactly what he didn’t like him. How could someone dislike another for being themselves? At least they’re brave enough. Plus, he was dating me!
Now let’s flash back to a Ted Nugent concert I attended with him. I knew that Ted had a tendency to say things that bug me, but I thought he would be different. Nope. He was offensive and sheperded his sheep to cheer at his stupidity (while a few people boo’ed him and flipped him the bird). I felt really out of place because I could tell that people weren’t really listening to what he was saying, but only cheering because he was talking about Ted-only-knows-what. It was so strange because I didn’t fit in and felt some of the comments were geared directly toward me. Talk about an interactive concert! Unless I missed the memo, I thought concerts were supposed to be fun, not make you feel horrible about yourself. Plus I’m not used to a bunch of mindless animals that are so easily swayed and will cheer over such supreme stupidity, and I’m especially not used to people who cheer about hate, exclusion and violence.
Then there is Marilyn Manson who was given the title of Minister at the Church of Satan. He laughs it off, saying it was just something that was kind of said and completely blown out of proportion. I think he’s more Agnostic or Atheist, but he’s such a complex character and it’s part of his allure. He’s an intelligent person as I’ve listened closely to the things he has said to see what he is about, and most times, if not all, he makes perfect sense. When I listen to the Nuge I’m usually left confused, or more often angry. When someone asks Manson about the messages he’s sending to kids, he says he sings about things but has never told anyone to do anything. He tells people to be themselves, think for themselves, don’t be “Mechanical Animals.” Which is basically the same thing my mom has always taught me. So Manson is pretty much telling us what our parents have said at one point or another: Stay true to who you are and don’t be a follower.
So let’s chalk it up here.
Marilyn Manson does not sacrifice animals. Sorry to disappoint.
Ted Nugent not only hunts, but enjoys talking about how he is going to kill things, or has killed things. And how he’d like to kill people. I’m not anti-hunting by any means, but I think there needs to be a certain respect paid to a life that is being taken in order to sustain life. Which is, well, sacrificial by definition.
It’s hard to say exactly who Marilyn Manson really is, because a lot of what he does is for the stage.
We all know what Ted Nugent is about because he reveals so much about himself and it doesn’t seem to be an act.
It’s difficult to tell where Manson as a man begins and the stage persona begins, unless you listen to the things he says.
It’s difficult to tell where Nugent as a man begins and the gun ends if you hear him talk.
Marilyn Manson comes off as being quiet and thoughtful, particularly when answering a question. He never gets angry when confronted but has a cool demeanor when he is being interviewed, even if it appears he’s being “confronted” rather than “interviewed.”
Ted Nugent fires off at the mouth like an AK47. Possibly while holding his AK47 and threatening the President.
Marilyn Manson has never said anything that I could possibly perceive as “radical,” but he stands behind what he says and if people really listen, he doesn’t have to defend himself because what he says makes sense. Scratch that—He has to defend himself because a lot of people don’t get what he’s puttin’ down because they aren’t listening since they already have a preconceived notion brewing in their mind of who he is.
Ted Nugent shares and defends his radical rants publicly but dismisses it as mere “talk” when Secret Service agents get involved.
If Marilyn Manson were to say something that could be construed as crazy, the first thing we as MM fans would ask is, “Is he feeling okay?”
When Ted says something totally nuts, he is met with support from his fans, even if they don’t have the first clue as to what he’s saying.
I’m not sure who Marilyn voted for in the election, or if he voted at all.
I’m pretty sure I know who Ted Nugent voted for in the election.
Marilyn Manson seems to date people in his own age range, or at least of consentual age.
Ted Nugent adopted his underage girlfriend because her parents wouldn’t let her marry him. Wow, where’s Child Protective Servies when you need ’em? I’d think there would be a law against dating your underage adopted child. Especially when the kid is taking on a wife-like role and playing mom to her step-kids while the legal guardian is cheating on her. Wait, is it cheating if you adopted the kid? Because then wouldn’t that be…? Nevermind, the whole situation is too messed up to warrant a straight answer other than the guardian needs to be thrown in jail. However, he’s been linked to several underage girls including Courtney Love when she was twelve, which would have put him somewhere in his late twenties. Gives a whole ‘nother meaning to “Uncle Ted,” and it creeps me out when people refer to him by that name.
Mansonites (Manson fans) want to find a place where they feel accepted for who they are and it’s nice to have a spokesperson who doesn’t preach hate or killing, but leads a rebellion based upon the right to be yourself. If people would actually listen to his music instead of judging him on his looks or upon rumours, they may quickly find that out. MM fans do not fit a certain demographic and he’s welcoming of his fans, no matter who they are. Heck, my mom likes Marilyn! She’s this happy, beamy kind of person, and she’s just a year away from being ancient! (Sorry if you read this, Mom; just illustrating a point!) She liked the Eminem video featuring Manson, and the clip of them together on stage at a concert.
Nugent leads a rebellion upon the ideal of doing whatever necessary to hold onto your rights, even if that means making the theoretical violence a reality upon the notion that someone might be infringing upon your rights. Fans don’t necessarily have to fit a certain demographic, but if they are outside of that little box, then they’re likely to be highly offended on a personal level. I know I felt unwelcome at his concert! Honestly I didn’t want to be there in the first place.
Marilyn Manson somehow got this title as a Minister in the Church of Satan.
Ted Nugent has claimed to be a Christian.
That’s all I can really say without reiteration of my key points. Marilyn has never talked about killing people, but Ted fans talk about how Manson is responsible for corrupting and brainwashing our nation’s youth; things brings me to the question of what we can do about people who are corrupting and brainwashing the nation’s elderly?
So, if the goal were to have a level-headed chat, I’m pretty sure that MM would win because Nugent goes off the chain and talks louder, because everyone knows if you talk louder it makes your nonsense sound true. Nugent has also been seen blowing up at people because things didn’t go his way. Plus, as the saying goes, it’s unfair to have a battle of wits with an unarmed man so Manson would have the upper hand in that arena.
The Nuge acts as if he’s some kind of advocate for women, but what about for young women who have yet to hit legal adulthood? During my unfortunate presence at his concert, he was talking about some of the women in the audience and how their dancing was…*cringe*…turning him on. The Double-M has never been accused of being with underage girls and sexually exploits both sexes equally, and those he exploits are consenting adults.
All in all, I think it’s pretty sad that someone who says he is Christian can be so full of rage and desire to kill anything that moves so he can brag about it later with graphic details, while the one who is labeled a Minister of the Church of Satan has never talked about killing things in a romanticised fashion. Even sadder, when I was at the Nugent concert feeling as if his comments of hate were somewhat directed toward me, his gaggle of minions were cheering him on as he spewed his hate-fueled nonsense.
While I don’t doubt Nugent’s skills as a musician and actually like a few of his songs (although some make me feel dumber for having listened given the juvenile-like lyrics…Did he write those songs in junior high?) I can’t get past the person he is to be able to allow myself to enjoy the music.
When MM put out the album “Mechanical Animals” he was asked about the title. He said that as he looked around, he saw people as just that.
Ironically, Ted Nugent fans fall into the category of “Mechanical Animal.”
I’m compiling a bunch of short stories and would love to have some input on what everyone thinks of this one. It would be GREAT if you could like, share, comment, post and repost! This was longer than I wanted it to be but I think it’s still short enough to grab the attention of the reader, but I don’t know—You tell me 🙂
“You’re next,” Aunt Marie whispered to Bridgette as everyone cheered while the groom kissed the bride.
Bridgette resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Aunt Marie could be so condescending and was always on her about not having kids or being married. What business was it of hers, anyway? She’d been with the man she thought she would marry, her high school sweetheart, for nearly nine years and didn’t want to go through that heartache again. It was only two years after she’d left the scumbag, not really time enough to mend the wound or learn to trust someone enough to have his children. Sometimes when she’d had enough of Aunt Marie, she would say, “I wish I’d had kids with Jake,” and then Aunt Marie would question why, reminding her of the scores of women he had cheated on her with. Aunt Marie just didn’t get it.
This was Bridgette’s cousin’s first marriage, Aunt Marie’s other niece, and when the date was finally set, it was all everyone talked about for the past few months, and not it was finally here. Bridgette sat through it with a mix of emotion: Boredom, frustration, envy, jealousy, and joy that since it would finally be over soon she wouldn’t have to hear about it as much. She hated all this wedding stuff but something inside her felt like she and Jake should have been the ones exchanging vows. She couldn’t decide whether she loved or hated the idea of being his wife. She’d just found out a few weeks ago through some mutual friends that he was getting married and while she didn’t care on one level, she was a bit resentful on another. And on yet another plane, she felt pity for the poor girl he was going to marry. From what little Bridgette knew of her, she could tell this girl deserved better.
Great, she thought as her cousin rounded up all the single women to catch the bouquet. And when the flowers were tossed, they went right toward Bridgette. Instinctually she raised her hands, and though she didn’t intend to catch it, she did.
“I told you that you were next!” cried Aunt Marie with a tone that Bridgette took as, “I told you so!” but could have just been excitement. It can be hard to tell the meaning behind the voice inflections of a bitch.
Desperate to get away from the fuss, Bridgette found a little table and flagged a caterer walking by with a tray of half-full wine glasses. She took two. One more comment about how she’d caught those damn flowers and was next in line to be married and she swore to everything holy that she would snap.
“Hey. I’m Jim,” said a guy she’d only known to be a friend-of-a-friend of her cousin’s boyfriend-now-husband. “Mind if I sit here?”
At a glance he wasn’t her type, but even so, she said, “Suuuure,” in a monotone lack of enthusiasm. And as they chatted, she soon she found the neverending supply of wine loosening her tongue as she complained of her ex-boyfriend and what he had put her through. But Jim was very sweet and understanding. And before she knew it, they were dancing and laughing.
A week later, she found that she had fallen hard for him despite herself. She’d forgotten her ex. She’d forgotten all the pain. And one year later, things still felt the same. They were married in a ceremony that made her cousin secretly jealous, and Aunt Marie was already asking when they were going to have kids.
Bridgette found herself pregnant three months after the wedding and was overjoyed. She’d planned to keep it a secret from Aunt Marie until the baby was born just for spite, but knew that she probably would slip up and she’d find out through the grapevine. However, she made sure that Aunt Marie was the last and least person she called. Bridgette and Jim couldn’t have been happier.
One morning, Bridgette got out of bed to answer a text on her cell phone. She was seven months along in her pregnancy and couldn’t wait until the baby was finally born. What a relief it would be on her body! And as she slowly got out of bed, she asked herself why she didn’t just put the stupid phone on the nightstand?
It was her ex-boyfriend. Jake. The last person she’d expected. He’d left a text message saying that his marriage was failing. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t talked to him in ages. The last time was two or three weeks after the breakup when he begged her to come back and she had said no, only with much more color. But now he was coming to her as a shoulder to cry on. He wanted to get together for coffee so he could talk. She was the only one that he’d ever really opened up to, and now that his marriage was in shambles and he could no longer talk to his wife, he must’ve realized how alone he truly was.
Bridgette responded to the coffee date offer with a “When and where,” and he replied back with a place, time and date. “C u there,” she replied. She had no intention of going because he scheduled the meet for Thursday afternoon, when she’d be at work, but it’s not like she would have gone if her life depended on it. She didn’t even find much joy in gloating over his marital misfortune because she’d moved on from the hurt he had caused, although she kind of wished she’d seen him get his dose of Karma when she actually cared instead of this feeling of indifference. But standing him up when he really needed someone would be her final act of “Screw you!” unless he didn’t get the picture and decided to text her back to ask why she didn’t show. Then she could tell him just that in a text, and that would be that.
She struggled to the kitchen to get a drink of water and then to the bathroom to prepare for a shower. Since she had a couple of days off from work, she was going to make the most of it and take it easy.
While she was in the shower, Jim came home early to surprise her with some gifts. Bridgette’s phone was on the bed as a sound went off indicating that she’d had a message. He picked it up thinking it would be from her mom or one of her friends; it wasn’t abnormal for either of them to use each other’s phone.
“C u then sweetie love Jake” the text read. Jim instantly recognized the name: Jake. He remembered that name from Bridgette’s drunken rant at the wedding, but he thought she loved him enough to forget Jake since he’d never heard her utter the name since. The pain stung him as he scrolled through their messages and he could feel his stomach flip. It felt like a hazy dream as his world crumbled. Like none of this was actually happening.
He dropped the bouquet he’d brought home for her. He walked over the flowers, crushing them into the carpet as he strolled to the kitchen and grabbed something from a drawer. For a moment he stopped dead in his tracks as tears began to stream down his face, then he wiped them away with his sleeve and composed himself before going back into the bedroom and taking a seat on the bed. Then he simply waited for her to finish her shower.
“You’re home early, Jim!” she said with surprised delight. Then she noticed the flowers on the floor. “Those for me?” she asked, screwing up her face and pointing toward them as she wrapped a towel around her head. “Wow, you’re awfully quiet. What’s up? Something wrong?”
Jim sat silently, cocking his head lovingly as he looked at her. He wanted to be able to remember her like this forever. Vibrant, beautiful, alive with that glow of an expecting mother.
She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. “What’s wrong, baby? Can I make it better?”
He put his arm around her and pulled her in, holding her close. Then she felt several sharp pains slicing through her back and into her body. The light of life was barely visible in her eyes, but they still looked at him questioningly. She coughed, blood gurgling from her full lips as she barely clung to life by a thread. He kissed her gently, then laid her on the floor and picked up the crushed and blood-soaked flowers, laying them across her belly.
“It’s okay, baby. I love you. I love you,” he said softly moving his hand down to her tummy to see if he could feel the baby kicking. “Hey there, little one. You must be sleeping now, huh?” And then she took two short breaths as all signs of life—hers and the baby’s—left her body.
Both the tradition of catching the bouquet and Aunt Marie’s words were both proven to be premonitory. Bridgette had been next.