Anima Animus
Some research read in the "quality" newspaper the Metro this morning:
Why Women Can't Park Their Cars
Allegedly it all depends on the size of the index finger, which generally tends to be shorter in women as a result of embryonic exposure to oestrogen.
Typically, my ring finger is longer than the index finger, revealing that I was over exposed to testosterone in the womb. According to this research, I'm therefore prone to homosexuality and, more importantly, also skilled in the art of car parking!
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not female, or rather that I am an abnormal female with 'masculine' tendencies. No news really; I've never very fond of limitations by gender.
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The Ghost of Lemora last night were good, but as with most of the quality new goth bands (and to be fair, there's not many of them that could be described as 'good'), I can't remember any of their tunes since they mostly reminded me of something else...
I'm alone in the office for most of this week as two of my colleagues have gone to Portugal to try and sell the publication over there. It is nippy and despite the brief run last evening (first in ten years!) my blood circulation is extremely poor. Feels a bit like having icicles for fingers, and I keep wishing I could go away too.
Why Women Can't Park Their Cars
Allegedly it all depends on the size of the index finger, which generally tends to be shorter in women as a result of embryonic exposure to oestrogen.
Typically, my ring finger is longer than the index finger, revealing that I was over exposed to testosterone in the womb. According to this research, I'm therefore prone to homosexuality and, more importantly, also skilled in the art of car parking!
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not female, or rather that I am an abnormal female with 'masculine' tendencies. No news really; I've never very fond of limitations by gender.
-----
The Ghost of Lemora last night were good, but as with most of the quality new goth bands (and to be fair, there's not many of them that could be described as 'good'), I can't remember any of their tunes since they mostly reminded me of something else...
I'm alone in the office for most of this week as two of my colleagues have gone to Portugal to try and sell the publication over there. It is nippy and despite the brief run last evening (first in ten years!) my blood circulation is extremely poor. Feels a bit like having icicles for fingers, and I keep wishing I could go away too.