Veronica Franco – The Poetic Harlot

  1. a woman
  2. a prostitute
  3. a sharp tongued woman
  4. a poet of erotic poems that would put Lord Byron to shame
  5. a witch who was almost lynched by the holy church of crap
  6. a feminist walking around in what one would refer to as freedom
  7. in bed with king Henry III of France

I hope my after life will be that way. All my tardy skeletons forgotten in some old gutter where dogs find shelter. Little to find on the internet except wild speculation and assumptions.

My fascination with Veronica is total. Was she for real? I want to be her. Tomorrow. I want my real love to say no to me so I can become a courtesan, a good one. I want my real love to marry someone else so I can have the satisfaction of having him in my bed while his wife waits, dries up & becomes bitter. I want to read books and…oh what the hell!

I found a good article by Andrea Zuvich. I am in love with this woman and I am definitely ordering her poems!

On Women:

“When we too are armed and trained,
we can convince men that we have hands, feet, and a heart like yours;
and although we may be delicate and soft,
some men who are delicate are also strong;
and others, coarse and harsh, are cowards.
Women have not yet realized this, for if they should decide to do so,
they would be able to fight you until death;
and to prove that I speak the truth, amongst so many women,
I will be the first to act, setting an example for them to follow.” (Lettere Familari 1).

            On Love:

“ I will show you my heart open in my breast,
Once you no longer hide yours from me,

And my delight will be to please you;
And if you think I am so dear to Phoebus
For composing poems, in the works of love
You’ll find me dearer still to Venus…

Know well, cruel man, the world will hear of it,
And, along with my sweet and bitter revenge,
Will carry the news of it to every place on earth.” (Terze Rime 2).

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Do Feminists Need LOVE from Men?

I had been thinking.

Pulling my hair.

Gnashing my teeth.

Scratching my back.

Picking at the pimples on my face.

Scratching my scalp bloody.

Biting my nails.

Re-counting my years.

Checking the wrinkles that may or may not be showing up.

Checking my awaited grey hairs.

Learning new things.

Getting promoted.

Investing the savings.

Thinking. Choosing. Re-choosing.

What a luxury! To have choice. All these wonderful choices.

Some mornings, I woke up sad. Some nights, I slept close to tears.

 

I can afford the rent.

I can feed myself.

I can pay my ticket and hotel room in Paris.

I can buy my own shoes.

The thought hit me.

To choose; when you have everything else and the only thing left to choose is love; you have to choose the love you cannot live without.

The silent question: “how to choose?”

Pooh answered: “You cannot go through your feminist life looking back at the things you rejected and miss & regret when you are 50, 60, 70 years old.

If you cannot say the below to the rejected, the left behind, the discarded, the not-chosen, or to yourself, and really mean it; then you cannot reject. Anything. Anyone. Ever.

  1. I do not love you. I wish you well.
  2. I love someone else. I hope someone else will love you.
  3. I am not available for you. I am prioritizing someone else.
  4. You have to celebrate one more birthday without me. And many more in the future.
  5. Someone else’s feelings and happiness mean more to me than your feelings and happiness. I hope you will be happy anyway.
  6. I will not miss you.
  7. I will not miss your voice.
  8. I will not miss your wonderful face.
  9. I will not miss your smile.
  10. I will not miss your jokes.
  11. I will not miss your body.
  12. I will not miss your body odor. In fact, I will forget it.
  13. I will not your input when I need input.
  14. I will not miss your feedback when I need feedback.
  15. I will not miss taking a walk with you in the city.
  16. I will not miss your/our friends.
  17. I will not miss your family.
  18. I will not miss watching TV with you.
  19. I will not miss spooning with you in the mornings.
  20. When I think of love, when I dream of love, when I speak of love; I will not think of you.”

Feminists Having Children

We should all have the same opportunities and the same pay for same work.

What does this mean for child care when finally, they arrive in my life? Do children need 24 hours of care from parents (read mother) to turn out well? To feel stable, to feel loved, to feel acknowledged?

One of my favorite quotes on equality is by Thomas Jefferson regarding how to treat people un-equally.

“There is nothing more unequal than the equal treatment of unequal people.”

We are turning 30. Friends and acquaintances all round are turning 30. Turning 30 seems to come with babies or baby plans.

I meet people, even close acquaintances, colleagues & almost friends who have children and children have become enough of a life. I feel so impressed.

Often, it is the woman who has stopped working, has decided to stay at home and take care of the child or children. The man continues to work. It is a smart calculation because the man often (not always) earns more. So he can support the growing family.

It becomes a catch 22 situation because women continue to earn less if they are away from work for long periods. It also leaves the policy setting and rule making to the men for those years when women are away being good mothers.

I am not making this all up. There is data to show how the loop repeats itself.

Apparently, to be a good mother, you need to dedicate your whole life to the child/children. I haven’t understood yet if this is a matter of feeling, appearing or wishing to be considered & therefore treated as a good mother.

Rarely have I met a man who has completely given up work to be home with the kids. Once, I met a man who took 2 years leave from his work, to follow his wife and children to New York, where, the wife had gotten her dream assignment. He was to be home with the two kids for 2 years.

He was back to work, working 50% from home, after one year. The taking care of the kids became too tedious and monotonous for him. He is a very good father.

In Sweden, to be home means that you are not “saving” any money to pension. That could make a very miserable life after retirement in Sweden, especially if you should divorce or husband should die early.

Nevertheless, those women who choose to be home with children make it sound like the best decision they have made with their lives. During the years they are home with their children.

When I worked with old people during my studies, most women who had been housewives had so bad income, they were dependent on the state and/or on the children they stayed home to raise. Since not so many children become stinking rich, most adult children have very little money to spare to make their old parents’ lives comfortable.

So old parents feel cheated that they can’t have more income from anywhere, which keeps them stuck at home on low budget. This time, no children to take care of during all the day’s hours.

The bitterness from both sides is so toxic you can smell it at Easter lunch instead of eggs. The guilt. The pity. The loneliness. And the lack of money.

The parents who worked and contributed to the pension are off traveling or playing golf after retirement. They can also afford better housing and care during old age.