#oneaday Day 340: Forbidden

It's kind of weird how, as you go through your life, you inevitably develop the feeling that you're "not allowed" to do certain things, because people will judge you and mock you for doing them — and that your own individual window of tolerance for that sort of thing will inevitably change as your life goes on, you grow older and stop giving a shit what anyone else thinks.

One of the things that most readily springs to mind is the matter of taking a bath. When you're a kid, taking a bath is, for most people, probably the default for a full-body wash, simply because you may not be tall enough to be able to use the shower effectively, or because it's easier to supervise a child in a bath than it is a child in the shower. At some point, probably around your early teens, taking a bath — if you're a boy, anyway — becomes taboo. You have showers now; you're a big manly man. You don't even cry when you get shampoo in your eyes while washing your hair. No baths for you!

A few years back — I forget exactly when, but it was at some point in the last 15 years or so — I started taking baths as a default again. The first couple of times reminded me that sometimes, there's nothing nicer than just being able to luxuriate in some warm water that has something that smells nice in it. And now, it is by far my preferred means of getting myself clean — even if, as a larger gentleman, it would perhaps be nice to be able to fill the tub a little higher without risk of spilling water all over the floor.

I wonder where these attitudes come from? I don't remember anyone specifically telling me that I should no longer have baths — though I do remember Chandler on Friends being mocked by his male peers Joey and Ross for taking a bath at the suggestion of the girls — but I definitely had the feeling that I described above: I was a grown man now, so I "should" have showers. Why? Why "should" I have showers? Who is going to tell me that I'm not "supposed" to have baths? No-one. Because the idea that you're not supposed to do something like that is bollocks, of course.

I'm sure it happens with lots of other things, too. The alcoholic drinks that it's socially acceptable for one to order, particularly as a man. (To be fair, when I still drank semi-regularly, this is a "rule" I flouted pretty much all the time, because I don't like beer and much preferred alcopops as a general rule.) The food one eats. The media one engages with. The colours of clothing one can wear. The designs one can have on one's T-shirt.

I guess the one advantage of being mostly disgusted with my own appearance and general status is that I really don't give a shit about any of these things any more. I wear what I want, I engage with the media that I want to engage with and I certainly still order a Smirnoff Ice with no shame if I'm in a situation where drinking socially would probably make the evening more bearable.

And, yes, I take baths. In fact, I'm off to go and take one right now, because I smell, bits of me are sticking to other bits of me, and I think pretty much every muscle in my entire body aches. So I am going to go and have a bath, and I am going to go and enjoy it. And there's nothing any of you can do about it!


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#oneaday, Day 252: 5 Social Norms That Need To Die The Hell Out

There are some things which have become so firmly entrenched in normal society that we just don't question them. We don't necessarily like them, but we certainly don't question them if someone happens to bring them up. They're so well-known that countless comedy routines have drawn attention to them over the years; so much so that many of them are now clichés. That doesn't stop people writing about them and perpetuating said clichés, though, as I'm about to do right now.

So without further ado, let me present Five Inexplicable Social Norms that the World can Really Do Without™.

The toilet seat thing

Alluded to above. Roughly 50% of the world's population, give or take, have to take a piss standing up. Well, they don't have to. But gentlemen who choose to urinate whilst in a seated position are generally scorned and looked upon as some sort of weirdo. For a chap, sitting is for pooing and standing is for pissing. Would the ladies out there who whinge about toilet seats being left up prefer it if said gentlemen just left it down all the time and pissed all over it instead? No? Then consider this: the seat has a hinge on it so it can be lifted up and put down. If it is in the incorrect position for one's desired toilet activity, one need simply use one's hand to move said seat to the correct position.

While we're on, those toilets whose seats don't stay up can die in a fire. Having to hold on to the toilet seat with one hand and directing one's flow with the other often feels rather precarious and I feel that anyone who inadvertently spills in a place they shouldn't whilst under such arduous pissing conditions should not be held responsible.

Man flu

Apparently, guys aren't allowed to get ill any more. Whether it's a tickly cough, some form of debilitating brain cancer, ebola or itchy scrot, it seems that everyone is quick to cry "Man flu!" at the first opportunity. The zombie apocalypse will not come from some sort of biohazard outbreak at a local lab. No, it will come from the man who caught zombie disease, went to hospital, was accused of just having "man flu" and sent on his way.

Overenthusiastic use of the word "random"

"OMG! I'm such a random person really. We went out and had a drink and it was like OMG! Random!"

No. "Random" means… well… random. Completely by chance. Out of all the possibilities that are there, everything has an equal possibility of happening. It is not "random" that you met that hot girl at The Dungeon one night, because you knew she was there. Your night out was not "so random", because you'd planned it weeks in advance with your compadres. You are not a "random" person, because otherwise your conversations would run something along the lines of "Cabbage! 352! Cocks. Horatio! England. Belching squirrel. 976!"

Settling for second-best

This could be applied to so, so many things but I'd like to particularly refer to the world of employment. How many people do you (yes, you!) know personally who regularly bitch and moan about their job, their colleagues, how much they hate what they're doing, how they "wish" they could do something "better" and then never do a damn thing about it? Some people don't have a clue what it is what they want to do. To those people I say: think harder. If you are sitting in an office surrounded by other people who clearly want to slit their wrists or take far more regular toilet breaks than a normal person because they're actually going there to cry for five minutes at a time, then you are probably in The Wrong Job.

Being unemployed has been a festival of suckitude, but I just know that if I was in that aforementioned office, while money might be coming in the way I'd be feeling would be ten times worse, because I'd feel trapped and unable to pursue the things I really do want to do. (Talking of which, I have a job interview for a job I really do want tomorrow. Wish me luck.)

Embarrassment over bettering oneself

I went out for a run today, but felt the familiar pang of anyone who is unfit going out in public to exercise: "what if anyone sees me?" This immediately jumps up to something doubly worthy of panic if you are doing some form of exercise which has the potential to hold up traffic, such as cycling along country lanes. But running! People will see you doing exercise, and they will laugh at you. Because going out and doing something about your own fitness is inexplicably somehow more shameful than just walking down the street gasping and wheezing after climbing a flight of five steps.

This whole thing also seems to apply to kids in school, many of whom seem to see success as being somehow shameful. But that, of course, is a topic I have waxed upon at great detail many times in the past.

So I know I certainly wouldn't shed any tears if any of the above norms disappeared overnight. Perhaps they're uniquely British things. In which case… anyone want to help me get a visa?

#oneaday, Day 231: You Look Nice

Perhaps this is a "classic British reserve" thing. Or perhaps it's just me. Either way, it's weird.

Paying someone a compliment is difficult. It shouldn't be. Because saying something nice about someone which is something which should get a universally positive response. Compliment someone's choice of clothing and you are, by extension, complimenting their taste, their eye for choosing things that suit them and possibly even their financial situation. Compliment someone's hairstyle and again, you're paying them attention, giving them reassurance that the choices they made were the right ones and that yes, it looks good. Compliment something that someone's done and they should be happy that they did a good job not only in their own eyes, but in other people's, too.

So why is it so difficult to do sometimes? I think the picture above may have something to do with it. At least, within that strange and muddled place called my brain. Perhaps other people think this too. Or perhaps I'm just the freak here and should start being nicer to others!

It's assumptions. Thoughts about what might happen next. What the result of said compliment might be. If I pay an attractive girl a compliment, is she going to immediately assume I fancy her and thus be put off talking to me ever again in case I try any sort of lecherous advances? If I pay a guy a compliment, is it a bit gay? Is he going to want to punch me in the face for being a "fahkin' queer"?

Of course, most of these are moot points since I don't exactly make a point of talking to strangers at the best of times. And if a stranger talks to me in the street, it's usually to either 1) ask directions (it's that way), 2) ask for a light (I don't smoke) or 3) do this (fuck you).

But still. I feel the world would be a much nicer place if people felt that they could be at least civil to one another. As it is, here in Southampton, there's a fairly constant air of insularity and borderline aggression at times. Perhaps it's the nature of the populace here and if you went somewhere else it would be completely different.

In fact, I know that's the case. After point 3) above happened to me once again the other day, I tweeted about it and several other people chipped in with their experiences. Some towns are definitely more prone to it than others. And it doesn't appear to happen in the US anywhere near as much as it does here.

So why should that be? We British are supposed to be renowned for our reserve, politeness and general meekness. At what point did it become all right to insult people, and not all right to pay someone a compliment?

Perhaps I'm overthinking this.

I like your shirt/necklace/hair/tits.