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March 8, carnival

Today I decided to keep a low profile. I know it's International Women's Day and I should say something clever about it, but on this blog every day is International Women's Day (Blog only, however). I just spontaneously comes out that, in this very sensitive period for the female gender, destiny willed relentlessly, partially obscuring the festival, superimposed on Shrove Tuesday, which, with its commercial value and disengagement, will certainly have the upper hand. I see it already at home with my children, who do not even know what a mimosa, but fully aware of the clothing of Zorro. The children in kindergarten will not receive any flowers, but will be buried by confetti. The big joke the carnival. And then the news will have to decide how to divide the three minutes to the news of little consequence: a minute and a half for the Women's Day, a half minutes for the wagons. The war of the poor.

Then, last Saturday I took my eldest son to a party of four-cinquenni. Of course they were all in masks, and strangely even my son wanted to dress. I say oddly, because like two years ago I bought a black pirate dress, that the first year because he did not want to get frightened, and the second because he was annoyed. Yes, I know, I have not committed to anything, fold up a garment trite, formulaic and a little 'sloppy, but the carnival has never turned particolarmente la mia fantasia. Comunque questa volta mio figlio non ha voluto gli stivali, né il cappello, né la spada, però la camicia e il mantello sì. Già qualcosa. Per fortuna l'avevo comprato in crescere, come fanno le brave madri previdenti. E sempre come una brava madre, mi sono pure ritrovata dopopranzo a cucire il mantello che l'anno prima, in un raptus di protesta, la dolce creatura aveva strappato. Chiaramente ci ho messo due ore, maledicendo l'assenza di "economia domestica" dalle materie della scuola dell'obbligo. Mentre giocavo alla piccola sarta, mi è venuta in mente la storia di quella madre americana che per Halloween aveva vestito il figlio di cinque anni da Daphne di Scooby Doo, generando un vespaio of controversy. Do you know Daphne is not it? Here, is not exactly the macho character from which children use to dress up carnival. And I wonder why. At the bottom of the panorama playful reference to very young children is very varied, but in the end, you always see the girls dressed as princesses and boys as pirates or superheroes. In this exhibition of the stereotype you put me there too, I have chosen and imposed on my son dressed as a pirate (which now no longer even know what it is). In fact, my arbitrariness has turned against me. Maybe my son wanted to dress up as Hello Kitty and I have not been able to interpret his needs. However, the party went very well. The children ran continuously for three hours, and then pass out unconscious each in his own car. Whatever their clothing.
morning instead, Women's Day, I left the two dwarfs in kindergarten, where to take them there were a bevy of fairies and princesses all sbrilluccicanti. Their femininity was so blatant that my firstborn is even blushed. Surely those little women today will be celebrated with full pomp. Will be pirates, astronauts, spider man, batman, Gormiti, peter pan, all at their feet. Other than us, in the office, with a sprig of mimosa skimpy, to wonder where we went wrong.
Ah, if only time my mother had dressed me as a princess! But nothing. In the name of equality (more unconscious conscious) I have always been imposed unisex clothes, like Harlequin and Pierrot. The only time that has encroached in a feminine color me dressed as the Pink Panther. Obviously then you end up writing about women in late.

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The simplicity of the man. Part Three: nudity

conclude the trilogy on the simplicity of man, by sharing another reflection of very deep with his wife, the man lives in a much more serene her naked body. Obviously not take into account the latest trends that see people obsessed with excess hair, sculpted dall'addominale, skin smooth as a baby's ass, the colorful "beach Sardinia also in January. "No, because I think (hope) that it is still a minority. The majority however, continues to perform with candor and sometimes with pride, the three P: belly, hair and smell.

already start young men, placed side by side in front of their urinals in elementary school. You know how they are made urinals, right? Well, personally one of the main reasons for happiness to be born a woman, I have given just urinals . I always wondered how men do in carrying out their duties while chatting with your neighbor pea. A few weeks ago I went to a customer with my partner, and after the meeting he and his client went to the bathroom. Thus, fraternally. And when it came out seemed much more in tune. In practice, a pee good for business more than two hours of meeting. I tried to imagine doing the same thing, to sit on a toilet next to a customer and discuss the furnishing of the bathroom, or the latest advertising campaign, but I could not help but shudder. For men it's different. They feel more free, more in touch with their animal part. They are more serene. Sometimes a woman feels uncomfortable in the bathroom even if there is another person beside her. "Oh, I do not have you seen someone come in?"

"Naturalia non sunt ugly." "The natural things are not shameful," he often says my father. It is no coincidence that he repeats it to me and not my mother. I confess that over the years I worked hard on myself to break down the wall dell'ingiustificata modesty. Subject to the basics of decorum, by issuing a pleasant smell, shave and do not wear anything that would cause laughter, I can say that it has acquired a satisfactory peace. What rhymes with ease. So, when I go to sea I do not feel bad about cellulite, just like the men who walk on the beach do not feel uncomfortable with their lush back. And then, making small change of philosophy, I find this attitude even poetic men, we are all equal in our nakedness. We remember that we are human beings and not machines to perfection. But it's tough.

It's hard to get out of centuries in which women have always been covered in every way. I have some pictures (but you'll also have you) in which my ancestors were bathing attire. And not because they were drunk after a graduation party. Even today, in many countries, she is eagerly covered. I wonder why then, because the female body has always been celebrated as the quintessence of beauty. The only exception to these habits are in business. If you sell something, it's better that you show up with a naked woman. But I do not want controversy, today is Monday and it is difficult enough.

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The simplicity of the man. Second part: breastfeeding

The most classic example of the schema donna-dubbi/uomo-nulla, we have it in the case of breastfeeding. I recently participated in a discussion on a blog talking about this : psychological torture to which millions of women undergo when they breastfeed. I have children who happen on the fly. Who has not, now I will explain. Then, you have just given birth, it is as if he had run the marathon in New York. Only after the marathon, when you reach the finish line back at the hotel, you make a one-hour massage and go to sleep for the following 12. Then you have breakfast and go out for shopping. After delivery the other hand, if you'd like a whirlpool, places you your son in my arms because they say it is good for the child and mother feel stuck, and you've just read about the daughter who murdered their parents and think that maybe it was because the newborn has not slept in bed with his mother. So you keep the baby on him. Would you like to go to the bathroom, would you sleep, you want a ham sandwich, but nothing, can not. Shopping do not speak either. At that moment you realize that your life is gone forever. Sure, it only ended the life that you did before, now they have a more beautiful and rewarding, you know that you have given meaning to your existence, you'll always feel full and satisfied, the children give you satisfaction and infinite love. But these are considerations that come only later, with time. Meanwhile, a few hours of birth, would only be in New York. Even just to have breakfast. But the breakfast should do your child, you should stick to breast feed. Sounds easy eh? That is, the women do when they were monkeys. They do all mammals. Even the platypus, that after spawning, they choose to breastfeed. And that's where you feel not alone. You make us realize that breastfeeding is not an issue between you and your son, but a question of all. Because everyone will have something to say about breastfeeding. And usually things are never positive. Started in hospital when the representative of the League of milk (Which is usually also a midwife) tells you how to position the baby correctly and tells you the First Big Rule of breastfeeding: There is no best food of breast milk for the baby. This is followed by the First Great Corollary to the Rule of breastfeeding: the powdered milk is poison. You do not have time to try the first impression of your child that feeds you, that you immediately take him away for weighing. And usually, when you bring him back, there are never good news: "Madam, your son has had a significant weight loss." What if you are not sufficiently balanced and does not have sufficient mastery of lexical comprehension, you might as well be a hit: "What did TOOK MY SON?? "No, that was when he was born he weighed 4.350 kg and now weighs 3.800 (the references are not purely random: quote data lived). This is normal, because when he was in the belly, the baby was constantly nourished by the blood of the mother, and once gone, they took (uncut) cock. And then the milk to the mothers is just after about 72 hours. First there's this thing called colostrum, which, I mean, the name itself ... But that is not milk. Just as eggs are not lumpfish caviar. In short, it is obvious that the baby weight loss. Will retrieve it, you think you confident. Meanwhile the hospital after learning the first great rule of breastfeeding, with its corollary, you discover that when they bring your child to do the canonical visits, give him a well partake of milk powder, because "he had the weight loss." In practice, according to what you said the representative of the League of milk, the poison. After a couple of days back home, and you've already lost control of the issue of breastfeeding.
Now the mothers are divided into two categories: those who are breastfeeding and those with no problems with breastfeeding problems. What problems?
- The baby is feeding poorly and you are the fissures (of the kind of bleeding wounds, that even the new shoes without socks you procure)
- The baby is feeding well, but there remains for hours and when the breaks, screaming like a suckling pig
- The baby is feeding well, but there is little and not growing
- You have to go back to work
The single answer to this, the simple answer, in short, the male would be: milk powder. End the suffering, the end of the crying, the end of hunger, end of the problem. But you are now given the Second World Rule of breastfeeding: it takes patience, perseverance and resistance to pain. First Corollary to the Second Rule: There are women who do not have enough milk. According to Corollary to the Second Rule: If you're a bad mother breast-feed. The history of the work instead, we cut directly out of any discussion.
So there you are, home alone, while your partner has taken over his life forever and then you realize that's just your life, it's over. Try to breastfeed, however, that this creature cries, you feel dissatisfied and even a very well. Think of the milk powder, it would be faster, painless and satisfying the hunger of the child, but you're holding. As if I had thought of killing him. In fact, you thought that too. And you look for comfort in magazines, on the forum, among the people. Everyone is very prodigal of advice. Even those who have never had children. But you can not make up your mind. Like when you choose the clothes to go to work . Then, thankfully, the survival instinct takes over, and a liberating "Fuck you" do your head. Some opt for the resistance to the death (or his child) and some to choose a bottle. And he goes for a bell'idromassaggio with the child. I am one of those. I said fuck you to the League of milk, midwife fuck, fuck the internet forums, fuck all those who tell you that "Breastmilk is the best food that exists for the child." Why assume that is even better than the fruit of your garden without fertilizers and pesticides, but if you have a vegetable garden, the fruit you buy at the supermarket and nobody is saying that you are poisoning your child. Who knows why. Then you also mind the place, and if you think it was invented the figure of the nurse, who work as a nurse the children of others, there will be a reason. Perhaps some other women before us have had problems with breastfeeding? Maybe once without the nurses, there were children who died? And perhaps, without the powdered milk, there would be today. This
for my first child. For the second has been a breeze. Even before he was born I bought two boxes of milk powder, which then, ironically, I did not need, until they are reunited, and were excluded from this type of discussion.
Then you look around, and discover that even those who have done all the things that were done, those who have followed all the great rules and their corollaries, are not undisputed. Type because they have chosen to breastfeed beyond the first six months of the child. As if there was a third great rule of breastfeeding: okay, you give your child your milk, but enough is enough, heh. On what basis is not known. As if this prodigious milk in the long run hurt. What are you doing? Expires?
Well, in all this, amid speculations, doubts, and suffering physical and psychological suffering, the man looks at you with amazement and bewilderment and seems to be asking "Why?" And indeed we should also ask ourselves. Because man is a simple creature, and should be a bit 'more even the woman.
End of second part.

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The simplicity of the man. Part one: the clothing

There are situations in life, when people look at you with a clear expression in his face, an expression that seems to say: "Why?". This air of loss appears as if by magic all the time in which we women venture into speculations that even if you have a degree in philosophy, difficult to understand.
I think the obvious choice of clothing, for example. If the morning is scheduled for an important meeting in the office, the average man will, as the only difficulty, that the tie to match the dress. The woman, after checking the weather on the Internet, to see if it will rain or not, whether there will be wind or it will be hot, open the cabinet and will be seized by an irrational horror vacui. That is, you will have in front of dozens of clothes, but not see them. It is as if he had opened, I know, the closet, or door of the library. It is understandable if you think about it: choose from over one million combinations of statistics, it's like to grips with the concept of infinity. The argument will proceed in stages. Skirt or pants? Dress or suit? Color? Accessories? Humor? And then, because we're on a blog that talks about discrimination, specifically in view of a business meeting, a woman will always ask if that che indossa sarà troppo provocante, o troppo serioso, o troppo sciatto. E già questo ci dà la dimensione della quantità di pressioni a cui, ogni giorno, una donna è sottoposta. L’uomo invece, è una creatura semplice. Ti guarda interrogativo mentre componi sul letto i vari abbinamenti tra cui scegliere, ma non osa parlare, perché secoli di evoluzione gli hanno insegnato a percepire il pericolo. E quella, la situazione della donna che sceglie l’abbigliamento prima di uscire di casa con i minuti contati, È una situazione di pericolo. Adesso, qualcuno di voi starà sorridendo, pensando ai classici luoghi comuni che differenziano uomini e donne. Ma io non rido. Perché mi domando come mai una donna, nei millenni, has declined in these states. I mean, when we were monkeys, both male and female each had her hair (oh my God, even now, in the absence of wax), and were not big problems with pairing. That is, the female monkey, walking in the jungle, not wondered "What the other monkeys will think of me?" Man is simple because it is quiet. The company did not have it with him. And even biology.
In short, this reflection you throw it there as well. Then everyone who wants to draw the conclusions. For my part, I believe that the famous man's simplicity is not always to blame. Indeed, we often learn from them. Maybe not always, perhaps is better than someone in the face every now and then couple of questions that go beyond "What's for dinner?". But sparingly, without exaggeration. Why then there are cases in which too many questions cause suffering, a suffering that there is no solution. So it is better to draw a deep breath and recite this mantra: "I'ma man, I'ma man, I'ma man."
End Part.

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The scent of memories. Ode to Aunt Jolene

you like this evocative title? To me a lot, because it represents my mood at the moment. I think they are the first signs of spring, even though today there are two degrees and the bora as never before. But obviously feel some pollen in the air that makes me a bit 'nostalgic, a bit' sad, a bit 'boring, and strangely a little' sound. Perhaps more than in the spring I need a vacation, let's face it. is that yesterday I read a beautiful post I talked about faraway places, but Italian . Of those many small places that many do not know, but that ooze charm from every street. I was struck by this post (because it is one of the few without spelling mistakes) and I recalled pieces of pictures, sounds and sensations of my past. I do not know why, but I remembered an old great-aunt who lived in Naples. Aunt Yolanda, Jole said. When I was twelve I went to see with my parents. He lived in an apartment in an old palace Naples, one of those where there was the goalkeeper who were giving money to make you use the elevator. The windows of my room opened onto a small balcony from which you could see the sea. I have good impression in the mind the image of my awakening, in a summer morning with the smell of laundry hung in the sun mixed with the coffee just came out and the light that came into the room and the blue sea. In this picture you add up the memories of the traffic noise and voices of people walking down the street. The voice of the grocery store, one of the news, the children playing football on the sidewalk and called themselves all Diego, in honor of Maradona. For me, memories are exciting because ever since we found little of poetry, ed è piacevole farli riaffiorare oggi, in mezzo a tutta la tecnologia da cui sono circondata, in mezzo alle scartoffie del lavoro, alle preoccupazioni e alle incombenze della vita quotidiana.

E poi c'era zia Jole. Una dei sei fratelli di mio nonno. Bellissima in gioventù e dotata di un'energia che oggi ce la sogniamo. Zia Jole non si è mai sposata, né ha avuto figli. Vantava spasimanti e fidanzati illustri, ai quali però non ha mai detto "sì". Non in senso coniugale, almeno. Zia Jole ed io avevamo un rapporto speciale. Sebbene ci vedessimo molto raramente, avevamo instaurato un bellissimo feeling. Mi comprava un sacco di libri e di riviste, chiacchieravamo per ore di tutto e di niente, ci volevamo bene. Quando ancora there was no food globalization, she would come for short periods of Trieste and took us to the buffalo that had nothing to do with what we used to eat us. And since ended up in about a half-day, Aunt Jolene, age 85, was preparing the stock market, was started at the door and told us: "Did you like? Then I jump in Naples and I will carry." As if it falls to local supermarket and not be one thousand kilometers by train. Then we had to stop at five.
Aunt Jolene was not exactly the stereotype of southern women. At least not of that era. He was skinny, single, independent and somewhat 'revolutionary. A careful examination, however, even his other brothers were very "normal". Starting precisely from my grandfather, who strengthened by its two degrees, one in chemical engineering, the other drugs, he took the liberty of creating poisonous potions to preserve in case one day he had been diagnosed with an incurable disease. "So me and I will not be fooled suicide by doctors, who are all balls." He liked to say.
But there was something that made her special Aunt Jolene. And that was his serenity of his life in doing what he wanted. Without giving credence to the expectations of others, without giving in to "suggestions" of society. Surely my beloved great-aunt would not be taken to the streets for the event If not now when, or concern itself with the problem of shares rose. So she did what he wanted anyway. And he did it with a light from which many of us would have to learn. Me included. Sure, you probably did not have the desire to sit in a board of directors of a listed company, but even if he had, would surely have found a way to do it. And I'd still have her here, Aunt Jolene, who passed away at the tender age of 96 years. I'd love to hear from you what he thinks of the current situation of Italian women. And I would like to hear what would come out. I would talk to her about all these things, maybe on that balcony overlooking the sea, watching the sheets hanging in the wind and one of his legendary drinking coffee.
Ah, my dear aunt, how I miss you.

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Women

Non ho nemmeno fatto in tempo a scrivere di quote rosa, che già l'iniziativa è miseramente naufragata. Allora, intanto la commissione Giustizia del Senato ha dato parere negativo per via di un'apparente incostituzionalità. Ora, non sono un'esperta giurista, né ho studiato legge, ma all'Università un esamino di diritto pubblico l'ho fatto, e quando ho letto la Costituzione, mi pareva che il senso di parità tra uomo e donna fosse abbastanza chiaro. Poi possiamo anche andare a ravanare sui singoli articoli, sulle virgole, sulle parole esatte, ma nessuno mi toglie dalla testa che il messaggio generale della nostra Costituzione sia quello della piena uguaglianza e tutela di tutti i cittadini italiani, che devono avere the same opportunities and freedom of expression and personal fulfillment, family, social and professional. Here, from this point of view, a provision that provides for a 30% quota for women on the board of listed companies seems to go, albeit slowly, in the direction indicated by the Constitution.

I will not dwell on the details of the legal dispute, but only carry the excerpt I was most indignant

"Again we are against the Constitution states that the 'principle of proportionality is observed, while the effects of sanctions could be' devastating 'for these companies and the led,' creating management problems and with repercussions on the job '. "

In practice, the penalty for companies that do not include 30% of women in the Board of Directors, consists in dissolving the Board itself. That, frankly, it seems to me the least, as well as absolutely "proportional." Why is this the small detail that makes us understand how great is the discrimination against women: consider exaggerated a penalty in front of a form of racism. It means that an accident did not understand the problem, which is a problem cultural and social in the long run also brings a financial loss. It means that the issue is serious and requires serious attention. So, if you tell me that is no exaggeration to close a Board of Directors for this shit, allora ti dico che è anche esagerato che tu guadagni un milione di euro l'anno per amministrare una società in perenne perdita. Applichiamolo ovunque allora, questo benedetto principio di proporzionalità. Per me, quello che ti aspetta sotto casa per tagliarti le gomme della macchina potrebbe anche cavarsela con una sanzione amministrativa di 5 euro. Non vorrai mica denunciarlo? Per me non sarebbe proporzionale: in fondo ha solo tagliato le gomme a te che te lo meritavi.

Chi si prende la briga di contestare questa sanzione, evidentemente non ha ben presente il tipo di danno che il comportamento illegale reca alle donne, che è un danno che, oltre che economico, è anche psicologico e sociale. Una donna non sarà libera of self-determination. And for me, the deprivation of liberty is a serious issue. Now, you can tell me that the legal standard there is nothing to prevent women from access to the Board, but, as I have said elsewhere, there was not no law that prevents you from learning to read and write, yet they felt the need to make school compulsory. And why? Because of illiteracy, as well as the exclusion of women from vital centers of power and economy worsen our civilization.

Well, coming back to practice, now it appears that the shares rose will begin to enter the scheme in 2018, ie seven years (probably a man, a member of any Board, si è fatto il conto di quanto gli mancava alla pensione) e pare che la sanzione prevista per le società che non si adegueranno sarà, udite udite, una diffida della Consob e una multa.

Preso atto di ciò, vado a pranzo, che per protesta non cucinerò io.

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shares rose unconstitutional (and vicinity): revolutionizing the job?

Questo post a blog unificati nasce da un'idea e uno scambio di vedute su Twitter e in rete tra Monica Cristina Massola , Stefania Boleso , Lorenza Rebuzzini , Manuela Cervetti , Benedetta Gargiulo , Maria Cimarelli , Paola Liberace e Mariangela Ziller .

After an excerpt of transactions on the network:

"Do not just be for women to be candidates, this is exploitation."

"But if I'd really like asking" Who's good? "Were women in mind"

"The question is: is this enough to introduce people to the event (as will happen in banks CDA) as long as women ?

"I'm sure there are smart women ready to assume important roles. How to get him the chance?"

"More and more clear to me that this is not part of time or conciliation: you need to revolutionize the work, nothing less "

" revolutionize the work! It 'the only one. But starting with the women (mums!), Not imitation of men. "

(following in the Twitter hashtags # rivoluzionareillavoro found no record of sentences that have made us think ...)

we decided to write on topics of real opportunities for women in the profession: how to revolutionize the current organization of work, and the law currently under discussion in the Board shares rose.

Come avrete intuito, questo post va in onda a blog unificati. Tipo messaggio del Presidente della Repubblica il 31 dicembre. E, non per darmi delle arie, ma anche io vi faccio gli auguri. Auguro a tutti, uomini e donne, che domani venga approvata la legge sulle quote rosa. E così vi svelo già la mia opinione in merito: un terzo delle donne nel Consigli d'Amministrazione delle società? Sì, grazie. È un po' poco, ma per ora ci accontentiamo. Meglio un terzo che un milionesimo. Certo, le solite prime della classe, tipo Norvegia, Spagna (?) e Francia (?) hanno quote del 40%, ma insomma, non vorremo mica stravolgere così di botto secoli di inciviltà italiana! Bisogna andare per gradi. Magari un giorno facciamo assistere le donne a una riunione del CdA dal buco della serratura. Il giorno dopo le facciamo entrare, magari per portare il caffè. Il terzo qualcuna si può appoggiare al tavolo di cristallo, meglio se in posa accattivante. Così, dopo una settimana di silenziosa presenza, l'uomo medio italiano si sarà abituato e sarà pronto per assorbire lo shock di condividere il potere con il genere femminile. Comunque il panico farà presto a rientrare, dato che "un terzo" coincide matematicamente con il concetto di minoranza. Per cui non ci sarà il pericolo di una guerra tra i sessi.

Detto questo, leggo ovunque i commenti dei soliti moderati (tipo mia madre), che con una certa spocchia criticano il meccanismo shares rose. They say that the presence of women can not be imposed by law. They say that the shares rose to hurt women. Alessandro De Nicola wrote on Sole24Ore a few days ago that "It is idle to discuss whether women are good for the budget of the society, and the manager so good, bad or inappropriate ones do not. Surely it will not be any bureaucracy can be determined." Idle a tube. If I read the data that say that, where there are also compounds of the Board of Directors by women, companies have better performance than those in which the Board is 100% testosterone, means that, regardless of whether the women managers are good or bad , the shares rose improve the situation. E De Nicola continues: "The price rose is counterproductive in other respects: it makes the ladies chosen to consider the simple 'recommended' and creates a small caste of 'golden skirts' as they are called in Norway ... "I mean, we have not even begun to provide for a lousy 30% of women in SO that's already talk of recommendations and golden skirts?! But we would like to say something about the "gold pants" instead? and recommendations Gender enjoyed by men? "I mean, today, and not by law, the majority of the Board of Directors Italian companies is made up of men only. Of these, many have also bad figures. I think to Alitalia for example, or Trenitalia (everything ends in "Italian" in short. Ah yes, Telecom Italy). In this case no longer speak of recommendation? What, only now suddenly discover the value of the capacity and preparedness? Now we're talking about women? Behold, I send this thing to me really angry. Covertly, but even so, I say, "Well women, but they must be able and prepared, eh!" And then say something unpopular: who cares if they are not brave or prepared. Some will be good, some not. Some will be awful, some not. Just like men. For me this is the real equality: women must have the same right to fail as men. It is not that because now they allow them a third of the seats, these women must work twice as many men.

The main critics of this law is much talk of meritocracy. They say that the positions of power must be filled by qualified people, regardless of gender. Well, I say. But today we are confident that the seats in the Board of Directors are assigned to real merit? Because if not, then what are we talking about?

Sorry, I increased the pressure. Now I am calm.

Instead, there is another issue that concerns me, that is precisely the number of women interested to take advantage of the shares rose. Are there? And how many are they? And where are they? At what step the organizational company have stopped (or have been stopped)? There are many companies that count rates in Italy high level of women in clerical, some level framework, and virtually no leadership. If within one year should come into force on the mechanism of the shares rose, we should take a crash course in management for women. It would also be nice that there were parallel course to explain to people how it is normal and due to that they also will occupy the children and home. Why are you doing? Incentives for women to have a career to pursue all his skills and then leave her children by the social worker? But in the end there is another thorny issue which is discussed shortly, which is the imbalance in work and private life. It is assumed that you must necessarily choose: between work and children, work and marriage, tra lavoro e salute. Sì, lo so, sto facendo un discorso da femmina. Mi è stato detto proprio l'altra sera a cena: le donne vogliono fare tutto e non sono disposte a concentrarsi su un'unica cosa. Vogliono essere madri, mogli, amanti, lavoratrici, amiche. L'uomo invece, una volta che ha scelto il lavoro, non si pone altre questioni. Sta bene così. Beh, scusate, ma a me pare riduttivo. E comunque, statistiche alla mano, la qualità del lavoro aumenta quando aumenta anche la qualità della vita, e questo significa che se ho il tempo per andarmi a fare una birretta con gli amici, o fare i compiti con mio figlio, poi sarò più produttiva in azienda. L'attuazione delle quote rosa in Italia, seppur con percentuali ben lontane dalla parità, implicherà anche una certa rivoluzione nel lavoro. Come tempi e come modi. E di questo, ne godranno anche gli uomini.

Se volte altre opinioni in merito, sicuramente più serie delle mie, questi sono i link dove potrete trovarle:

http://www.mammeacrobate.com/work.html
http://www.workingmothersitaly.com/category/blog/
http://pensieridistefania.blogspot.com/
http://milanoelorenza.blogspot.com/
http://pontitibetani.wordpress.com/
http://www.controgliasilinido.com

Salary Canada Average Comercial Pilote

Telecom champion of women

Non so se si era capito dal post " Terrore al centro estetico ", comunque chi mi conosce lo sa molto bene: a me piace mangiare. Ma non scafandrarmi qualsiasi cosa. Non sono il tipo che si fa fuori un vaso di Nutella davanti alla TV, per intenderci. Cioè, se ci fosse, la Nutella sicuramente avrebbe vita breve, per cui non la compro direttamente. Ma non mi costa fatica, giuro, ci rinuncio volentieri. Quello a cui non rinuncio è la buona cucina. Che ne so, la pasta al forno con le polpettine, per esempio, il filetto in crosta di pane, gli spaghetti allo scoglio, i ravioli alla zucca con ricotta affumicata. Cose così. Ecco, più che la Nutella davanti alla TV, prediligo quei tre-quattro etti di pasta al forno. Senza fondo alcuno. Non sono mai stata particolarmente attratta dalle cosiddette "schifezze", quelle che la mamma ti dice not always eat at school for snack. I do not like the snacks (not in industrial quantities, at least) or the McDonald's sandwiches. Of course, to maintain balanced the amount of toxins in my body, sometimes I eat me a sandwich. But it will happen twice a year. Mc Donald's is the epitome of "junk" we always knew even before he saw the movie Super Size Me. That chemical aftertaste that is common to a cheesburger Mc Bacon and a Big Mac and that, in fact, makes the same all these sandwiches, sometimes frightening. That cucumber then goes neither up nor down. And then we talk about the bread? But it is bread? We'll never know. In short, much better as a calorie sandwich with the mortadella. Maybe in a baguette with a drizzle of mayonnaise (you can see that I have not had breakfast today?). What always amazes me is the advertising of McDonald's sandwiches. Last week, the train station in Milan, I saw huge totem shouting concepts like "authenticity", "quality", "Italian." Totems were advertising McDonald's, not the De Cecco pasta. This trend upsets me forever. And just say that I do this work. But nothing, then when you see the end result will surprise you every time. The symbol of a worsening diet obviously has a desperate need to clean up and give a positive image of themselves. Especially in Italy, where good food have a sense, where the pizza is still the best on the sandwich, where the Mediterranean diet has just been named World Heritage by UNESCO. But at some point, when the lens is so unattainable, I say, you might as well change its strategy. I know, use irony. Say, "Okay, if you only McDonald's food will die young, but sometimes we're just fine. Type after a cinema. Or when you want to reward the teenager in you." Here is "Love the adolescent in you: take a sandwich."

But why am I telling you all this (besides the fact that I'm hungry)? Because there are operations that are really advertising beyond decency. I venuta in mente la storia del Mc Donald's quando ho saputo che Telecom ha aperto un blog dedicato a donne, lavoro e questioni di genere . Allora, per chi non lo sapesse, questa cosa delle aziende che sposano una causa sociale è una tendenza che va avanti ormai da molti anni. Serve a far percepire come "buona" un'impresa che comunque ha come obiettivo principale quello di fare utili. E a dare la mazzata finale ci ha pensato Naomi Klein con No logo, che ha definitivamente rovinato la festa, parlando delle multinazionali che sfruttano, affamano, truffano. Oggi un'azienda ha il dovere di sentirsi in colpa per il solo fatto di fare profitto. Insomma, ha fatto di più la Klein nel 2000 che Marx in un secolo e mezzo. Così adesso abbiamo aziende che costruiscono asili, che finanziano ospedali, che sposano la cultura, che aiutano i giovani, che promuovono la pace nel mondo. Tutto questo, chiaramente, non come anonime benefattrici, ma come soggetti ben visibili, con il loro logo, con comunicati stampa, con campagne pubblicitarie, in modo che tutti sappiano che sono aziende buone e sensibili. Bene, assodato questo, c'è da vedere quale causa sociale viene scelta da ogni impresa. Di solito quella più vicina ai valori del loro marchio. Che ne so, Ikea, che fa mobili e usa il legno, sposa la causa ambientale piantando alberi per esempio. Così ti può dire: "Vedi? Io non disbosco l'Amazzonia per fare i miei prodotti. Ma pianto apposta la materia prima". Then comes Telecom, which now seems to have espoused the cause of social protection of women. Maybe they thought you could do as Ikea, saying: "See, I exploit women in my audience by showing half-naked and alluring, with a background of sexist jokes, but then I open a blog to their defense and against discrimination." But there is something wrong. It's like Ikea, in its advertising to the ground with napalm radesse a forest to create attention, then opened a blog on the love for the plants. But in Sweden would not do it ever. In Italy, however, this reasoning is possible. You can torpedo Belen giving all the blame for the decline in sales. You can replace Belen belle with another that will do the same things he did Belen. And then you can denounce "prejudices" and "stereotypes of the female figure" Blog of the holding. Behold, this was frankly incredible. If she died, Klein would turn in his grave. Besides, if they can propose a McDonald's as genuine Italian product, why not believe in Telecom, a champion of human rights and dignity of women?

Home Made Propeller For Weedeater

If not now, when - Trieste

"How nice to make love from Trieste down" sang the Carrà two thousand years ago. In fact, Trieste, my city, has always been enough note in the collective national as the place where most are indulging in the joys of love. Maybe because it has always been a seaport, it will be because he lived under the influence of Austrian until recently less than a century ago, it will be because the Trieste has always had a reputation for being beautiful. I do not know. However, just to say, my maternal grandmother in the thirties he went to see her relatives who had moved to Lazio, and we went alone by train. Always alone, my grandma used to go to the movies, to enjoy some relaxing time. After arriving in America, my grandmother made the scandal, of course. Trieste still shows us that what I say is true: in the center of the bar meet ladies eighty years of drinking coffee and make conversation. The city is full of them. The bars and ladies of eighty. Once, the hairdresser, I heard an elderly lady told that after the dye was going to sea, leaving her husband a delicious sandwich with mortadella on the kitchen table. Just move a few miles further north or further west, already noted for the change of scenery: the bars are populated by men of eighty drinking glasses of wine and playing cards. Even the shadow of women. I speak to older generations because Trieste is also one of the cities with the highest average of the elderly in Italy. I think that kind of 70% of the population here has more than seventy years. Last short dettaglio che vorrei precisare: Trieste è una città di destra. Per ragioni storiche, sociali, politiche che adesso sarebbe lungo spiegare. Ma fidatevi. In tutta la storia politica della città, l'unico sindaco di sinistra che abbiamo avuto è stato Riccardo Illy, l'imprenditore del caffè (poi diventato Governatore del Friuli Venezia Giulia). Quindi capite anche voi cosa intendo.

Insomma, tutto questo per dire che le donne a Trieste non hanno mai brillato per castità, né si sono mai particolarmente distinte per campagne di moralizzazione sessuale, né hanno mai dimostrato un particolare attaccamento ai precetti della Chiesa, e detestano i comunisti. In pratica, le sostenitrici ideali del nostro Chairman of the Board, if he did not concentrate all the nightlife in Arcore, maybe we would have to Trieste, perhaps enjoying himself with more experienced women, given the average age.
These thoughts I was doing yesterday morning, on my way to Piazza Unità d'Italy to attend the event "If not now when."

"I'll find someone? And if so, how will they be? Ten, twenty? Three according to the police? Damn laziness: I had to go to Rome."

But, to my great astonishment, great joy and a little 'parochial pride, I found three thousand people waiting for me. That is, wait and welcome women of all age, political beliefs and cultures. Obviously, the average age of the square was about sixty years, by force of circumstances. But beside the point. Instead I found it interesting that women historically free and very accustomed to being offended (I forgot: here we have the highest rate of topless beach, too, alas, all ages), chose to take to the streets to protest for the dignity trampled upon. I mean, we have to put your pain even if the Trieste feel the need to mobilize. It still makes me laugh more Santanchè (that already I find it hard to follow since the Cortellesi seriously started to imitate it), because when he speaks, along with Ferrara, rod and bigoted, not knowing a provincial capital in the far northeast, where there is the highest consumption of Viagra in the country, is blatantly denying. In short, this latest, sterile polemics of women who consider the escort moralistic and their right to engage in prostitution, is neither in heaven nor on earth nor, I add, on any program I've seen the show.

Evidently, the Trieste (Trieste and) felt the need to say something, to prove a hardship. And it is the discomfort that unfortunately in this town women often live. The discomfort of being asked for job interviews if you plan to have children, il disagio di guadagnare di meno rispetto a un uomo a parità di livello e competenze, il disagio di non poter fare carriera, il disagio di non sapere dove portare i figli dalla fine della maternità al terzo anno compiuto del bambino. Sopportare tutto questo è già abbastanza impegnativo, se poi ci aggiungiamo anche il Rubygate, e cioè l'ennesima celebrazione del maschio dominante che si diverte sulla nostra pelle, beh, pure le triestine non ci hanno visto più. E mi pare anche tutte le altre. O meglio, tutte quelle che sono abituate ad affrontare quotidianamente i problemi e le difficoltà reali delle donne, piuttosto che a cazzeggiare con considerazioni politiche fini a se stesse (a destra come a sinistra).

Bene. Detto This, along with the old ladies of Trieste, I was there. There were several friends of mine. Many acquaintances. The photographer Massimo Battista, whom I thank for the picture opening this post. Some political campaign for the next administration. And a dear friend from University who came with the flu, he did not want to miss. But the man could not: he had to take a shower. Right. Hygiene first.

Cost Of Movie At Silver City

brief reflection on a tragic end

today to reflect on this. As the bad luck is never alone, in addition to the ominous prophecy of the Maya, there is also this thing of the canons of the overlap with various holidays on Saturdays and Sundays of the year. Practically we can not console ourselves with some impromptu trip taking advantage of the classic decks. And so we meet our doom working and accumulating vacation, which we will not enjoy then ever.

on this depressing scenario has recently expressed Marcegaglia, president of Confindustria, by the way of our one glimmer of hope: the celebration of the unification of Italy on 17 March. That is a Thursday, oddly enough. He says that because the economy is in crisis, there is no need to lose a day (or two, with the bridge work).
Then, my dear Emma, \u200b\u200bI know that as a woman you have to prove to work twice as hard to be met half, and I appreciate molto il tuo sforzo. Davvero. Ma poi arriva un momento in cui tutto questo perde di significato, e questo momento è il 2012, dove, crisi o non crisi, uomini e donne saranno tutti uguali. Uguali davanti all'asteroide che ci colpirà (era previsto un asteroide? Non ricordo). Per cui, cara Emma, lasciaci godere in pace di quest'ultimo ponte, ché tanto nessuno sopravviverà per chiedere il TFR.

World's Biggest Online Skate Park-tech Deck Live

Sull'ossitocina and other amenities

Stavo per andare a letto, ma poi la mia vita sociale virtuale mi ha fatto rimandare. Su facebook una mia amica segnala un articolo del Corriere che dice: "Per le donne un pranzo con le amiche è meglio di una notte di passione ". Capite anche voi che non posso andare a dormire rimandando comment on this blog. Even so, a few hours before, just with my friend we decided to go out to lunch next Sunday, after the event for the dignity of women. So I feel personally involved in this murky history of women, lunches and nights of passion. Of course, she joked, commenting: "I do not exaggerate." In fact, the article seems a bit 'over the top, but as usual they lead you to witness a series of scientific research and international experts who say this: women prefer sex with her friends. And do not talk about sex bad, eh, but the normal, average, satisfactory. So you say that during a lunch with friends, women produce the same hormone that is produced by orgasm: oxytocin. What then is the same that occurs during childbirth, but the fact that women prefer a lunch with friends at pains, I think we all agree, even without scientific evidence.

However research tells us this: with the girls produce oxytocin with oxytocin produce an orgasm. At this point it is clear that the two are on equal footing. But no, because it seems that more and more women prefer to be single and do not give up their friendships, in relationships with men because they feel more under pressure. In other words, oxytocin to oxytocin, it is better than no contraindications. There would be in realtà da specificare la natura della relazione sessuale a cui si rinuncia, perché l'approccio della giornalista (e dei ricercatori?) è abbastanza tradizionalista: si dà per scontato che il sesso sia possibile solo all'interno di una relazione stabile, per cui alla fine la scelta è tra essere single o essere in coppia. Non ve lo devo spiegare io, ma è chiaro che in mezzo a questi due estremi ci sono tutta una serie di altre possibilità che a questo punto sarei curiosa di capire come vengono interpretate da questa ricerca. Per esempio la mia amica è single. E infatti ha giudicato esagerato questo articolo. Probabilmente, se la prossima domenica alla manifestazione per le donne incontrasse un uomo attraente che le proponesse un pomeriggio di passione, io e le altre saremmo destinate a pranzare da sole. Quindi non è solo una questione di ossitocina, mi pare. Cioè, se le dicessi: "Dai, resta con noi, ti garantiamo lo stesso apporto ormonale che avresti con quel tipo lì" non avrei nessuna speranza. Garantito. Ecco, abbiamo appena dimostrato che non sempre le donne preferiscono le amiche alla notte (o al pomeriggio) di passione. Certo, la mia non è una dimostrazione scientifica, ma a volte il buon senso può fare miracoli. Credo che la questione sia invece un'altra, ma che ha meno a che fare con l'ossitocina. Sull'evidente tendenza che hanno le giovani donne a preferire la singletudine alla vita di coppia, mi interrogherei con ben più di una ricerca. Sicuramente ci motivations are sociological, psychological, anthropological, economic, and everything that ends in "that". But perhaps even this famous devaluation and disrespect for women is that makes you want to come across is coupled (in a relational sense). Maybe someone is wondering who makes you do at home to relive all that is already living outside or in the workplace. Okay, this seems as much a provocation, and perhaps it is. But still, someone to tell them to researchers for women has not even easy to live with men.

Manual Versus Electric Pump

Where it all begins

'm on yet another train that takes me in Milan, but now more for pleasure than for duty. I'm going to present the book of Martha Zacchigna "Milano to bare "and this reassures me a lot, and because the author is a friend of mine, both because it gives me the opportunity to live Trenitalia as a free choice and not as an imposition. Before leaving I stopped at newsstands, so to buy some newspapers to browse casually in the face to all those who work sitting in front of me. Of course there is always a kiosk station monstrous row, so I am stepping stone religiously waiting for my turn. And then my gaze wanders among the magazines on display here and there. Barbapapa I see the album with various gadgets attached, see the papers of hunting and fishing alongside those for animal lovers (which seems quite a contradiction), then I stop softened sui periodici per teenagers. Avevo già fatto outing a suo tempo parlandovi delle mie letture adolescenziali all'uscita dalla chiesa (vedi: trattato su Cioè, nel post " Una bella gnocca sul calendario "), per cui capirete che per me, vedere esposti tutti i giornaletti che mi ricordano quanto ero felice e spensierata più di vent'anni fa, mi commuove come la fine del film di Forrest Gump. Noto subito che, accanto allo storico Cioè, sono fiorite negli anni decine di riviste parallele, segno che il segmento tira molto. Fra queste, compare Ragazze (o Ragazza, non ricordo bene), che in copertina ci offre un sunto di quello che troveremo all'interno: c'è l'immancabile test ("Arrossisci o fai arrossire?"), the inevitable freak who can not sing or dance or act, but it is so beautiful, the inevitable articles on the difficult tasks that life requires us to (know how to do hair, how to conquer the classmate, make-up in the elevator without be discovered by her mother) and, finally, a serious warning to all readers, about Sexting. It seems really disturbing. I read the two lines below (the line is still on sale because the old lady in front of Italian cuisine is paying a cent coins): "Note that your risque photos are available to everyone!" OMMIODDIO! But it is terrible! - I think now with a vague sense of unease - now who said to my father? And my mother? Will still speak to me? And you, regular readers of this blog, you will have the same esteem for me, if you've ever had, after seeing my photos risque?
Luckily my apocalyptic frenzy lasts a few seconds. Which photos? The only date back to when I'm naked a couple of baths that I made innocently and in 1975 when I was too small to demand the rights to my parents. I was forced. I did not want (that picture I was in tears). I calm down. I look again at that magazine. It really looks like a serious problem. And indeed it is, because it is assumed that all the young readers of that magazine have risqué photos. That is, it is normal to have. And as is normal, then they put you warning of the dangers of their distribution. So I wonder, dear, old, modest, naive readers, did you know that you pre-teens today, just have a cell phone in hand or a digital camera, the first thing they do is recoil in risqué poses? I now know, and are also more aware of how, at some point, we gathered to organize events for the dignity of women. The old woman comes from newsstand, I buy the "Republic" which at this point, I think the sequel to "Girls".

Albuterol Recall 2009

The inadequacy of a woman in haberdashery

morning I jumped into a shop to buy some patches for the pants of my firstborn. I confess I have always had strong resistance this type of purchase, because I clearly recall the image of us children of the seventies, dressed in blue overalls and red, with white stripes on the side, and the patches that were previously oval velvet sewn by our mothers even before they bucassero is, at the knees. Well, that image has always made me a bit 'sad, because I know a little' foundling orphanage Candy Candy ". However the style of that era was so, and over time I learned to accept it and look at old photos with more indulgence. And then, as a favorite of my eldest son is the "Space Drift" on his knees, too type pants made only twice a break up come se avesse passato un mese nella giungla. Quindi niente: o toppe o morte. Questa storia dell'acquisto delle toppe sembra banale, ma mi sono presto accorta che non lo era. Intanto, già per uscire dalla logica consumistica del "si rompe = si compra nuovo" ci ho messo un po'. Poi, una volta accettata l'idea della toppa, si è posto un altro problema: dove si vendono? Qualche supermercato le ha, ma ogni volta che mi ricordo di cercarle, trovo sempre l'espositore semi esaurito. Bene, vuol dire che non sono l'unica. Qualcuno mi parla della merceria, dove credo di non essere mai entrata in vita mia.

"Sai, quei posti dove vendono tutte le cose per il taglio e cucito, fili, nastri, stoffe, aghi, puntaspilli..."

Okay, and where can I find one? No, because I can tell you exactly how many wineries are there in my city, I always know what is the nearest bookstore, the record shop and even the fishmongers. But the haberdashery not appear on my display. Not even on the phone with the latest location-based applications (a sign that Mercer is a popular spot even from other smartphone owners). I noted a friend. Later I find myself in a kind of souk, where ladies from the eighties up jostle to attract the attention of the orders. I immediately hung up the patches: there's Winnie the Pooh, there's Superman, Batman is, in short, a great variety of shapes, colors and testimonials.

"I want those patches."

"applications, wanted to say."

I was immediately corrected by the contract, emphasizing the important difference in terminology (and therefore my ignorance). Evidently, the patches have remained obscenity oval velvet that law in the seventies (and in the centuries before), but then came the applications, you can place on any item of clothing, just for decoration. But I saw there the right to cover the holes in the pants. However, show off a false consciousness of what I was saying and agree, "Yes, yes, applications, of course."

The contract looks at me with pity, and my eldest son definitely give it the context of our situation: "Mom, can we buy these colored wires for my father, who always uses them sewing?"

Thank You Letter For Destination Wedding

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Maxine The Cartoon Character Interview

Lessons

Lezione di tecniche di vendita a una classe di un istituto commerciale. Avevo una seconda, che di solito implica un'età che si aggira intorno ai quindici anni, e invece in quell'istituto la media per le seconde si alza a diciassette. Qualcuno arriva a scuola in macchina (nel senso che la guida). Quando chiedo ai ragazzi la motivazione che li ha spinti a iscriversi a quella scuola, la risposta corale è: "Perché è la più facile". Sarà, ma questi qui fanno lezione fino alle cinque del pomeriggio. Hanno rientri pomeridiani praticamente ogni giorno. Sono sempre stravolti. Mi domando dove stia tutta sta godsend. I mean, am I that I enjoyed at the grammar school, where I finished at noon three days a week and the other at one. Okay then I had to study at home, but at least I had all afternoon.

anyway. I try to set the lesson so that I can follow them all. So speak as if addressing me in my four year old son. And yet, there is someone who falls behind. Usually those with the car, probably because they think when they do the review. A girl in the middle of the explanation, he raises a hand to be the decisive word. M'illumino of immense. I will happen twice in my (thankfully) infrequent life teacher to answer questions di studenti particolarmente attenti.

"Prof, posso andare in bagno?"

Ecco. Sono la solita ingenua.

"Speravo avessi qualcosa di più intelligente da chiedermi".

"No - ride - no, no".

Improvvisamente comprendo tante cose. Comprendo tutte le facce che ho visto nella sala insegnanti, quei tic nervosi dei docenti di ruolo, che magari sono vent'anni che insegnano in quella scuola. Comprendo la vicepreside che urla la sua frustrazione agli altri professori. Comprendo il bidello che rincorre gli studenti con la ramazza. E quindi, in definitiva, comprendo anche tutta la situazione italiana.

Proseguo imperterrita con esempi, casi pratici, citazioni da film di serie B, e alla fine, arrivata al capitolo "cliente", chiedo:

"Qualcuno mi sa fare un esempio di stereotipo di un professionista, mettiamo di quarant'anni, maschio?"

Silenzio. Ma non di quei silenzi carichi di tensione, come quando la professoressa d'italiano chiedeva a quale verso della Divina Commedia siamo arrivati.  È un silenzio sereno. Indifferente direi.

"Sapete cos'è uno stereotipo vero?"

Un'altra ragazza alza la mano. Stavolta I do not care. "Go."

"So stereotype means ..." And I begin to explain. As if that would do the trick.

type After half an hour, between exits the bathroom, dissertations terminology and variations on the theme, back to my original question: the stereotype of the professional male of forty years.

The boys are ready now. Reagents. They put away the cell phones. Are present and begin to respond in detail.

"She dresses in a suit and tie."

"She drives a Mercedes or a BMW, o un'Audi".

"Va in vacanza ai Caraibi".

Il bullo della situazione dice la sua: " È stronzo".

Una ragazza, con sguardo malizioso risponde: "Ha un sacco di donne. Oppure è sposato e ha l'amante".

Raccolgo la sfida e rilancio: "E se invece si tratta di una professionista donna?"

Unanimi, e quasi stupiti dall'idiozia della mia domanda, mi rispondono tutti: " È uguale!"

And I suddenly feel I love them.

Elite 1500 Laser Rangefinder

The spot of discrimination

The Dutch have just launched a campaign against discrimination. One TV spot, and its forms printed invite to report that we have witnessed or experienced discrimination. The concept is: "You are forced to hide your true self to be accepted?" The spot is very explicit: in the order we see a Muslim woman leaves the house, a black boy who wants to date a white girl, two lesbians who are married, a woman police officer struggling with a national rage, an elderly couple that come into the office, another black man waiting for a taxi and then a young man with Down syndrome who returns home. All these people are hiding behind the image of what the company should have been. Watch it.

Of course I was immediately struck by the case of discrimination against women. For some reason, the man who was chosen to impersonate a citizen who rails against the cop is black and probably extra. From the way you dress seems just landed from an African country. Looks like a seller di tappeti. E mi domando come mai i creativi dell'agenzia che ha realizzato questo spot abbiano fatto questa scelta. Voglio dire, non poteva andare bene un cittadino qualunque, vestito banalmente in jeans e maglietta? Evidentemente no. Evidentemente la scena sarebbe stata giudicata di poco impatto. Vedere un uomo qualunque che si concede la libertà di inveire contro una poliziotta perché meno autorevole dei suoi colleghi maschi, non sarebbe stato, in Olanda, molto rappresentativo. Forse lì i cittadini non si sognano di fare differenze tra uomini e donne sui posti di lavoro? Forse rimane solo un problema legato ad altre culture, diverse dalla loro? O forse non volevano calcare troppo la mano. Chissà.

Certo è che se questo spot venisse aired in Italy, it would take an adjustment.

Large Amount Of Renal Cysts

preload escort

Today I feel a kind of media pressure. I see post on facebook, read anathemas on other blogs, I browse the pages of newspapers full of articles on moral drift. And I'm here, writing about the various amenities. On men and women who strive to live in peace, small daily events that we spoil the day, children, cartoons, trains and supermarkets. I feel inadequate. Someone also asked: "But do not write anything about Berlusconi?"

And what could I write that has not already been said or written? But most of all: how to preserve intact my irony and lightness? As Usual the will to live?

To tell the truth are not much shocked by recent events. In short, I would not say the usual sentence opinionated (but always gives so much satisfaction): "I told you so." Yes, because the fact that in Italy we are fearfully back with equal opportunities, the fact that you can not move with strollers, the fact that you can not change a kid in a bar or restaurant, the fact that fathers do not have five months of compulsory leave of paternity, the fact that people look at me wrong with a kitchen Ikea gift to my son, in the end, all these facts lead to this result. And what is this? That a man of power over seventy possa intrattenersi con delle giovani donne (che ne ricavano lauti compensi), senza perdere il gradimento nei sondaggi. Perché in fondo è un maschio e gli piacciono le femmine. Che ci può fare? Anzi, cosa sarà mai tutto questo clamore attorno al mito del fascino latino? Sì, vabbè, magari avrà commesso qualche leggerezza, perché in fondo, il maschio latino è sempre un po' ingenuo. E anche molto creativo e fantasioso. Per quello gli è scappato di far passare una ragazza marocchina per la nipote di Mubarak. Se gli italiani non fossero fantasiosi, non potremmo avere un'intera economia basata sull'export del made in Italy. Di giustificazioni se ne possono trovare mille. E sono tutte dettate dalla nostra cultura. La stessa then, in the research tells us that over 70% of women after work, perform household chores, cooking and ironing, while men do not. The same culture that is cool to hold an event on cars and stuff half-naked girls. Possibly lay on the hoods of those cars. For example. In short, everything I've written so far on this blog, leads to the conclusion that we see today in all the news (including that of Minzolini, which rightly is not exempted from the law of gossip), and we read everywhere, online and offline.

And what about Ruby and the others? I wrote a comment on the blog of Stephanie : I was struck by a conversation intercepted by these girls. He was talking with Minetti, former Premier of the dental hygienist, now the Lombardy Regional Council, and complained of his precarious situation. She said he was weary of waiting, that she could not risk of finding themselves with nothing and be forced to look for work from 1000 € per month as all his peers. No, the prospect terrified her. He wanted a real advantage by Berlusconi. He wanted to settle down, in fact. This particular matter, this surreal conversation, made me laugh. It also made me think. Why did you think of how many sacrifices to get where you are now, every year on the books, the questions at school, university exams, and then for job interviews (and especially the answers to sending your curriculum: "We regret to inform you that ..."), the unpaid internship, the project contracts without leave, without disease, but with" duty "time fixed (at least ten hours), wages paid little, paid late, unpaid, to their male colleagues who went on the other hand, the leaders who winked and you never responded. Here, think about all this and then think of Ruby, just eighteen years old, but also to Patrick D'Addario, Minetti or herself, or even to your former colleague who gets a promotion because he has given to his boss, or All women who barter it to go forward, to make a career for arrivare dove voi non arriverete mai. Che effetto vi fa? A me un'invidia pazzesca, giuro. Nei momenti di stanchezza mi ritrovo a pensare: "Se solo avessi due gambe come quelle di Ruby, i suoi capelli. Chissà dove sarei adesso. Siccome sono anche abbastanza stronza, sicuramente molto in alto." Ma poi leggo quell'intercettazione sulla precarietà e mi ravvedo. Ormai l'offerta ha superato la domanda. La "via più facile" non è più tanto facile. È diventata stretta quella via, e piena di concorrenti agguerritissime. Tipo il concorso di Miss Italia, o il casting per scegliere due veline su 500.000 candidate. Lele Mora non ha più spazio nella sua agenda ormai. Pensate che sfiga: oggi una donna non può più nemmeno prostitution in peace to get what you think, because the system is so saturated with these mechanisms, the woman is likely to remain unemployed and also with the real risk of having to send your CV to agencies. Only in very few make it, for all other our fate is the same: the insecurity, uncertainty, the uncertainty of the future. But at least, I console myself, I will not have to give it to a septuagenarian. That is no small thing.

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story

is the third time that I receive from you by e-mail this story. To this day, I think the case of advertising, such as hostility nice week. Sure, especially compared to last post "The ideal man " seems a bit 'stereotypical and perhaps more suitable to describe the situation of certain older generation. But sobering sull'atavico the same sense of duty, responsibility, sacrifice and the all women who have.

The story is based on the book by Ann Crittenden "If you've raised kids, you can manage anything".

Mom and Dad are watching TV when Mom says: "I'm tired, I go to bed." He gets up and goes into the kitchen to stir the sauce, pull out the meat from the freezer for dinner tomorrow and apparatus for breakfast. Then load la lavatrice da far partire l’indomani, riattacca un bottone caduto. Passando nel corridoio raccoglie un paio di giocattoli e riporta al suo posto l’agenda telefonica. Qui trova il diario del figlio, con una nota della maestra alle quale scrive una risposta. Già che c’è butta giù la nota spese per il droghiere. Giunta in bagno si pulisce il viso con la lozione “3 in uno” e si lava i denti. Indossa il pigiama e controlla che la porta sia chiusa a 4 mandate. Nel frattempo Papà dall’altra stanza annuncia: “Sono stanco, vado a letto”. E ci va.

Well, when I say that the generations are evolving, I also think to myself that when I'm on the couch to watch TV, I fall asleep directly.

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The ideal man

spot in an old Alfa Romeo, where the machine is completely ice-skating a Venice, it was said that the most difficult conditions that can give its best. Today I find myself remembering the advertising (for training or professional bias, you see), combined with a contemporary fact very positive. Meanwhile, I state that this post is a pretty revolutionary than the others. It is a good place, which looks at all the good things that surround us, that feeds on the hopes and above all he sees men who work with women to build family balance upright on equality and division of duties and responsibilities. Well, now I think of all the men around me. To those young people like me (do not laugh). I see them cooking for example. Many are also good. I mean, not that you only cook a pasta with a sauce ready, but we make the commitment. A few weeks ago, has made a cr ê pes , for example, also demonstrated some ability to turn them without breaking them (which was taken by the wife, the first reduction in an omelette). They are generally very tidy. I hear stories friends of the exasperated because the comrades beset on cleaning the kitchen, that they, men, glazed with great meticulousness, unlike women, apparently more superficial. Many men go to the grocery store and came home with things that were on the list. Nothing more and nothing less. The only exception is my brother in law, that once I asked him to buy two cucumbers, zucchini is back with two. But we were still young, carefree and without a family. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt. I have seen male friends who spent the rag on the table, after drinking the tea, so, absently, as if it were a natural act now. The same people who just came home they take off their scarpe, le ripongono nella scarpiera e si mettono le pantofole. Insomma, ho visto cose che voi umani non potreste immaginarvi. Non tutti questi uomini provengono da famiglie in cui la madre è morta quando avevano due anni. Anzi, molti di loro continuano ad avere un forte legame con la loro genitrice, che molto spesso, appartenendo ad un'altra generazione, ha una concezione diversa dei ruoli maschili e femminili. Eppure loro sono diversi. Cos'è? Che malattia hanno contratto? Nessuna malattia. Come l'Alfa Romeo dello spot, e come milioni di anni di evoluzione umana, hanno imparato ad adattarsi alle situazioni più difficili. E da quelle più estreme ne sono usciti più forti e indipendenti. Sono degli uomini migliori. E quali sono queste situazioni difficult? Well, for example, to live alone outside the home without afford it. My generation was born precarious and often coexist peacefully enough (or perhaps just resignation), but does not give up this freedom. So, belated than their Anglo-Saxon, these men at some point leave the house and not necessarily to marry. Maybe they are single too. It can be found, alone, to face life with all its tasks. Then, the first week eat only pizza and Chinese takeaway. The second dare to buy a supermarket cold cuts and sandwiches. The third find the dough. The fourth meat. The fifth experiment with the combination of pasta and meat, and so comes the sauce. In parallel, the shopping cart begins to fill even products as "detergent", "floor cleaner", "the abrasive sponge," "the duster." And so, their lives suddenly become dignified. Some, more fortunate, has even made the university away from home, already twenty years learning what it means to look after himself. But I do not dwell too much on this category. If nothing else, because I remember a particularly brilliant in terms of hygiene of the apartments of male students that I attended in the past. It takes a short time.
Of course, now I'll be telling you about all the men who know che portano le camicie a stirare dalla mamma, che si fanno preparare le monoporzioni di lasagne da surgelare, che non hanno mai passato l'aspirapolvere. È vero, esistono. Ma come in una sorta di selezione naturale, questi uomini si accoppieranno con donne predisposte al martirio. E felici di esserlo. Per tutte le altre donne, quelle con un istinto di sopravvivenza più elevato, ci saranno invece uomini temprati dalla vita domestica. Pronti. Autonomi. Uomini che non vogliono essere accuditi come dei bambini di quattro anni. Uomini già predisposti al concetto di parità e per questo, anche più rispettosi nei confronti dell'altra. Ecco, di molti di questi uomini io sono amica, e ne sono orgogliosa. E soprattutto, mantengono in vita my hope for a better world.

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Women

Several times I have focused on aging (my). Not that this is an obsession, for heaven's sake, but in short, when your child begins to ask when you go to heaven with angels, you start to really think about it. And then, since I turned 35 years old, in my inbox, no one knows how, has begun to dawn on classic spam, a newsletter disturbing. To Federanziani (can not remember if I had already told you, here, see? Are already early signs of AD). Obviously the trash without even opening it immediately, such as e-mail about Viagra. Today, however, not content, wanted to do more, and they sent me another newsletter, also sponsored by Federanziani, called Children and Family Magazine. In other words: we're old, but we love the children. I succumbed to the insistence and I read the first news. Sweetener killer, carcinogenic effects of smoking, Sting, telephone bills, food adulterated. So, where are the children in the midst of all these tragedies? Here comes the bottom of the page and find the answer: Boom of frozen eggs. The over 35 postpone motherhood. Fortunately, at least two eggs I put them to good use and now weigh respectively 20 and a further 13 pounds, otherwise I do not know how I would react to the article. Maybe we talk about it in the next post. Meanwhile, I wanted right next to discuss the news: Paternity mandatory? Women like.

Here. Since I have seen very lively and thoughtful comments in the post " The new family plan (English, of course) " I wanted to deepen the discussion. Then, the article says, in essence, "bla bla bla, bla bla bla" and "bla bla bla." The data is rather this: "According to a poll conducted by women's magazine Elle, 74% of women would welcome the change." Very superficially takes this by saying that it would be the case to be made mandatory paternity leave and that the time is ripe, and abroad are ahead of us and that companies bla bla blah, blah blah blah. It's stronger than me: I can not focus on other attributes of the article, because the fact that 74% of women are in favor of this change struck me as a stroke (which in fact given the age and the lifestyle that I lead, it may well be). Meanwhile, guess who had the idea of \u200b\u200basking women if they are for or against paternity leave. I mean, but you did a survey of men instead? Oh well it was Elle, which is a magazine for women, maybe you should do those of Men's Health, if they were not so busy on the Decalogue of the Perfect Latin lover. However, I would have taken for granted that women would been favorable to this change. And I'd be wrong. In the end, those of Elle had reason to do a survey, because the result shows that not everything goes smoothly. 74% in favor of women also means 26% of women or that otherwise have no opinion on the matter. On large numbers, I'd say there are 260 women in 1000, 2,600,000 to 10,000,000 women in Italy who does not like or would like to know if the men took care of their children as mothers do today. Two million six hundred thousand women. What then, if we refine the sample on a national scale, 26% of the Italian female population counts for the Istat, 29,044,615 members. 26% are about 7,551,599 women. This is significant given the newsletter promoted by Federanziani: that more than seven million women in Italy do not have the slightest intention of sharing the care of children with legitimate fathers. What if they are to work well these men who are not able to do much more. That they continue to deal with their affairs, such as washing machine, change the bulbs and then the plasma. And then if they stay at home as well, who's who runs the cabin? Farewell and goodbye holidays in the village Valtour manicure and styling. It still has never seen a man has to change a diaper. Who knows, maybe these women have tried to imagine the scene: they come home tired from work, with a hungry black, open the door and found her husband on the couch playing with the playstation and the child chews the controller cord. Nothing could be ready to eat. Only crumbs everywhere, dirty dishes and empty fridge. "What have you done today?"
"No, we went for a walk in the park. It's nice, you know there are a lot of young mothers with children. By the way, I think the baby this morning at the park has done a poo."
Well, in some cases it might be. But frankly I think a thought and some stereotypical views as "comfortable" to do. In reality, this poll is clear that women are not really that ready to share in the domestic life and parenthood with their peers. For lack of trust, jealousy of the children, and a sense omnipotence. Who knows. One thing is for sure though, if we are far behind in Italy on social policies and equal opportunities, responsibilities we have a good women, too. Exactly 7,551,599.

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contrary to the new family plan (English, of course) As we were

Let me tell you a story that you probably will not ever heard (and the rest of it myself), the chronicles of international politics. Yet it is an important story that is worth much more than a thousand articles.

The British Prime Minister David Cameron, Conservative (I want to say), last August had a daughter Florence Rose Endellion. To mark the happy event, the Prime Minister announced its intention to take the two weeks required by law to be with his newborn. And he did. So much so that in September when the Pope arrived in London, he did not show up. Probably because he was changing a diaper, or taking a walk in a park with the baby in the carrier, or singing a nursery rhyme.

course, the fact that in England the fathers can take two weeks paid parental leave, is not very comforting. I mean, you learn just two weeks to figure out which side buttoning the body. And then still remain the mothers to care for the babies for months, home from work. In each case two weeks are better than nothing, and above all, history tells us that it is not an employee of the Post Office to be left Busto Arsizio home, but British Prime Minister. Can you imagine in Italy, Silvio Berlusconi not only, but any Prime Minister of the Republic, announcing: "Sorry, but I for the next two weeks there are because I have to be with my newborn daughter. No, I do not give nothing if the Pope, and there are enough "?

I know it's difficult to make an effort to imagine such a scene. Also because the Italian political class, given the age, it is more likely to have grandchildren and great-grandchildren rather than children. However I do not think that in case of paternity, an Italian Prime Minister drop everything for two weeks to stay at home with his wife and son. If someone asked him, would answer con le solite frasi di rito: e l'impegno istituzionale, e le responsabilità verso il Paese, e abbiamo due tate a disposizione, etc.

A seguito di tutto ciò, la notizia che oggi ci dà il Corriere è che in Inghilterra, da aprile, entrerà in vigore il nuovo "piano famiglia", che prevede che saranno le famiglie a valutare "se spetterà alla donna o all'uomo chiedere la licenza o di maternità o di paternità per un periodo massimo di dieci mesi. I neo-padri avranno così la possibilità di affiancarsi alle mogli nel primo periodo post parto poi di ottenere l'estensione del permesso nel caso in cui la mamma opti per il rientro in ufficio". Ovviamente questa idea alle imprese non piace. E te credo: come fare adesso a discriminare sulle nuove assunzioni in azienda? I selezionatori dovranno chiedere anche agli uomini se hanno intenzione di avere figli? Improvvisamente non avrà più senso avere tutta una fascia di manager e dirigenti per la maggior parte maschi? Eh già. In Inghilterra, da aprile in poi, anche il mondo del lavoro dovrà mettere in atto dei cambiamenti, o meglio, delle aperture al lavoro femminile. Quasi quasi mi verrebbe da chiamarlo progresso. Ma non oso. Mi limito a riflettere sul fatto che in quei quindici giorni che il Primo Ministro inglese ha scelto di occuparsi della sua paternità, la politica e l'economia del Paese non sembrano averne risentito. Ne avrà risentito invece la figlia, che, appena nata, ha you could well understand the concept of "parents" instead of that of "mother".