I am not here to please you

Readers, I would like to draw your attention to a particular little issue that has really been annoying me for quite some time, only I wasn't quite sure about how to word it. Have you ever held a certain belief/preference for your life, only to find that others don't share that view? Of course, not everyone is inclined to agree with everyone! Then, when others find out that you don't share their views, they react with an unbelievably backhanded comment saying that you'd be "sooo good" at whatever it is they think you should be doing?

I really have found it so hard to answer that. Sure, I like to give and receive compliments. Who doesn't? However, it can be really tough to answer when someone is saying you'd be good at something you just do not want. It's almost as though they are justifying their disregard for your interests with a compliment.

Let's look at a few examples from my own life. I've been single and partnered at many instances of my life. During none of my single stages (including now) have I been unhappy in any way with being single. I'm actually pretty comfortable with myself no matter what. And I don't have any kids. I'm not sure if I want kids, but if I do, I'm leaning towards the adopting or fostering route. No problem with that. But whenever I get any questions about my personal life, it seems like people have absolutely no problem telling me what they think I should be doing, even if that's what I don't particularly want. And that really irks me. Some of the little gems I've received:

"Oh, that's too bad you're single. You're so pretty, you'd make someone a great girlfriend!"

"You don't want kids? Sounds like the words of a future mother!"

"But I'd love to see a little you running around! And you'd be so cute pregnant!"

Honestly, how do you even answer those?? It's like they're using their "compliments" to hide disregard for your feelings. And when you think about it, those aren't really compliments because they're judging me by what they want me to be and do, not what I already am and do. I mean, they're not going to get me wanting what I don't, so I don't understand their rationale. But how do I answer them? I've tried saying, "Thanks," but then I feel disingenuous, like I just validated their invasive comment. I've tried saying, "Thanks, but that's probably not going to happen," to get some pretty heated "I'm just being nice!" in response. (Note: That's not "nice.") Usually, I just change the subject.

But I really don't get it. That's a big part of why I try to remember things about people, things they already are proud of, and compliment them on that. Maybe it's best they tried to do the same.

In defense of Thanksgiving

Hey all, my apologies for not blogging more frequently (or at all!) in October. That month had some very personal difficult issues for me, so every time I began to write, I found myself somewhat overwhelmed. Now I am at a place where I can go back to blogging...

Yesterday was Halloween. I love Halloween! Costumes, candy, and celebrations are always something to look forward to. It's so much fun to get dressed up and to go out (this year I was Miss Viola Swamp from the kids' book Miss Nelson Is Missing! and I was pretty darn evil, if you ask me). After Halloween, I like to pick up any discounted candy or accoutrements, as they are all on sale.

HOWEVER...I was so not too pleased when I was shopping this past September, early-ish in the month. I went to the mall, and what did I see? Not back to school deals, not Halloween decor, not Thanksgiving, but rather...CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS! Yes! Three whole months before Christmas, and the trees and wreaths abounded. In October, when I was picking up trick-or-treat candy to pass out, I saw Santas and reindeer all over. Even in some of the small shops like Claire's or Hot Topic. Now it is November, and every store has Christmas merchandise in it.

Now don't get me wrong. I am no Grinch, and I absolutely love Christmas. However...

WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED TO THANKSGIVING???

Did somebody forget that there's another holiday coming up? And no, I do not mean the Eve of Black Friday. I mean a day for celebrating with family and friends. Expressing an attitude of gratitude. (And yes, I know the actual origins of the Thanksgiving holiday were pretty far-removed from the rosy picture you get in grade school, but I do think a day dedicated to gratitude and appreciation is important.)

What happened to Thanksgiving???

For a thankful revel, this will not do. At all. I hereby declare that I will not put up any Christmas decor until I have finished enjoying Thanksgiving. I will not put on any Christmas music until turkey day is done. I will wear my turkey and cornucopia pins rather than anything that seems like it's a month too early. And I will make it a point to enjoy November's holiday for what it is as opposed to rushing through it on the way to Christmas. I will be a friend of Thanksgiving and give it the appreciation it deserves.

...and I won't back down

I thought I was strong enough to resist Facebook, and because I don't want certain individuals finding me, I have still not joined.

Despite the fact that everyone under the sun and not under the sun have been pestering me about it. I still have not caved. To quote that Tom Petty song I like, "I won't back down!"

But flash-forward a few years, and the same problem rears its ugly head. Only in the form of Twitter! Aieeee! No matter what my friends and now coworkers (!!!) say, I am NOT joining Twitter! Sure, that little bird is cute and all, but Twitter has got to be the most boring kind of blog ever. All it is are little "tweets," with one sentence. And it's really annoying. Does anyone care if you are "Soooo in love!" one day and think "Boys R Crazy!" the next? I mean, come on now! Reading the Away messages on Google Chat provides about the same amount of entertainment. I really don't need it, and I don't see its appeal.

Not meaning to hate on the friends of mine who do have Twitter. Go and tweet away, just don't expect me to join in your flock.

Yes!

Most of the tables are filled!

Most of the fabulous groups are confirmed (three of which are new this year), and the number TOPS, TOPS, TOPS my record from last year!

It's a month till the big day, and my ship is on the horizon!

AV material is rented.

Playlist is created.

Draft of flyers is on my computer.

And turnout at meetings is bigger and better than ever!

Now all we need are the visitors!

YES!!!!! I have got this president thing down to an ART! And I couldn't have done it without such a fantastic group! After all, a good leader goes nowhere without good people for leading.

Everything's changing now...

We get a new treasurer for Fem Maj in the spring. We'll miss you, Christine!

There is a new director of advocacy, and she is...the vice director! Surprise!

General Eccentric, Moonstruck, Bar Giuliani, and Garcia's have all closed or will close for good.

Wow.

Although one thing has not changed.

The grad school process is STILL kicking my butt! If this keeps up, I'll go certifiably insane!

Something's gotta give

You know, it may be well-intentioned, but telling someone "You look tired" after seeing her is a fantabulous way to make and keep friends (sarcastically). Or commenting on the bags/dark circles under her eyes. Or telling her to "get some sleep" or that she looks "shopworn." (What do they mean by shopworn?? I'm not some product you can buy in a shop!) Or (my favorite, yeck) asking her if her boyfriend minds seeing her this way and if she hasn't tried out some new miracle concealer to hide the eye bags. (And both my guy and I are students, so it's only expected that we're working our butts off!) Try keeping my schedule and see how you fare. I will even throw in the five kinds of gunk I pile on my lids daily. See if you can go without dark circles. I'm only shopworn/tired because I've lived!

Three cheers for self-promotion!

She's a revel
She's a saint
She's the salt of the earth
AND SHE'S DANGEROUS.

She's a revel
Don't you know it?
Activistic feministic
In your face and rockin' widdit.

She lives the revolution,
The dawning of our lives.
She is so liberated.
I just can't deny it.
No I just can't deny.

She's a revel
She's a revel
She's a revel
And she's dangerous!

It'll learn ya way better than in school

The grad school process is royally kicking my butt.

I don't think it has all that much to do with me. I can whip up a cover letter that can melt the hearts of the heartless. I can scrounge up some references (I have three so far) that will sing my praises. My GPA is good, and my GRE scores are pretty kick-@$&. And my involvement is pretty enviable (three leadership positions, three committees, and a play! woo for me!).

Then what is my problem?

First I went to a lunch-and-learn at the African American Cultural Center about living on one's own. Later tonight, I was leading a Fem Maj meeting today and talking with my lovely members (I love this year's crop of feminists!!!), and three of them are in grad school. This year, we've upped the freshman, grad schooler, and male involvement. I love being the president of such a cool group! And all those grad students were giving me tips on how to survive and all were being sweet..."Oh Alex, I know you will get in" and the like. But I am royally getting nervous. I'm normally pretty darn confident...but it's the anticipation that's making me nuts. I have to send off all those letters/applications and wait and wait and wait and then see what happens. Yes, I have all the creds. But there are people out there with EVEN MORE CREDS. What then? One of my RCSers, who is one of the smartest women I know, got WAITLISTED for a sociology program last year. I am nowhere near as smart as she is, and she has TONS more experience than me (keep in mind she is also in her 40s and is a pretty high-ranking advocate). What do I do if that happens? If they can turn HER down, what about me?

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that once those applications are out, I have no control over what they do next. I hate having no control. These next couple of weeks where I will be getting those applications out is going to make me wonder if this is hell and what I am doing in an Alex-sized handbasket.

Shall I compare thee to a grad school search?

To PhD or not to PhD?
That is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of five-plus years of grad school.
Or to take arms against this binding commitment, and by going for an MA, end it.
To go for MA, two years and no more, and by two years to say we avoid
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That doctoral students are heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To go for MA, perchance to continue on.
Ay, there's the rub. For in that MA program, what possibilities may come
When we have finished our graduate thesis and may give us cause to continue.
There's the respect that eases the calamity of so long a study.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The professor's grades, the undergrads' inexperience,
The pangs of writing a dissertation, the committee's delay,
The difficulties of Higher Learning, and the spurns
That patient merit of the postgraduate takes
When she herself might her doctorate make
With a few more years? What would MA students do
To grunt and sweat under a weary load,
But that the dread of something after graduation,
That undiscovered country from whose bourne
Few return successful, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear the academic track that we have
Than fly to another that we know not of.
Thus indecision makes cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of going for an MA
Is sicklied o'er with the allure of the PhD.
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn away
And lose the name of action.

But soft you now, the fair admissions office.
In thy judgments be all my accomplishments remembered.

---

Graduate school had better be worth all this.

Clarification

Okay, I figured I would offer you all some explanation. I noticed a lot of my posts seem to be about me whining or getting angry. First of all, I'm usually not an angry person and I don't think I whine all that much. I usually try to take some action on an issue before getting worked up over it.

The issues I've discussed are usually ones that I have little or no power over changing completely. While I'm the kind of woman who tries to make change in her own part of the world and then see if it spreads, I realize there are some things I will never be able to have or change. I know that as one medical/court room advocate, I won't be able to stop all the victim blaming or re-traumatization of my clients (and I know that I probably won't see a time when my services are no longer needed in my lifetime). I am fully aware that even though I don't want biological kids, those governmental guidelines still see me as "pre-pregnant" because I am the proud owner (for most of the month!) of two ovaries. And I know that some of the most scary or difficult times in my life were when I had no control over what was going on.

So when I discuss some issues that rattle or bother me, it's not just me whining or being unreasonable. They're things that matter to me, and it's usually because I have done all I could or am unable to make much of an impact.

Under the summer rain, I burned away

Well, this is funny to have two summer-song titles for blog titles! Only AFI rocks a bazillion times harder than Seals and Crofts (then again, that's not very hard to do). It did rain a bit today, but that is not the subject of my post.

Yesterday was the LAS career night. I was kind of disappointed with it, because there was not much of a diverse group of people to talk to. I am talking about diversity in majors. Most of the people there were alumni who had become bankers or doctors, with LAS majors in Economics or Finance or any kind of Biology. When you're majoring in English with a double-minor in History and Gender/Women's Studies, there really weren't many people there to talk to or relate to. There were absolutely no GWSers, and the history folk I saw all had "law" added to their field. But I met a few cool people including some folks who work at RCS. So it wasn't a total waste. I didn't press and starch up my power clothes for nothing.

Then the meeting for one of my clubs. I'm an "officer at large" at one of them, so I have to go to the planning committee meetings. I love the planning committee for the most part because it's a great look at what goes on behind the scenes. And being on the planning commitee means that you are qualified to go to the county events as well. So I head up to the meeting (which is just one floor up from the career fair) with a fabulous array of ideas for the club. But what a shock! Only a third of the officers are there, and the meeting was lackluster. The girl who's the president looked like she needed a nap and she acted like she was about to doze off any second. I laid out my fabulous ideas, but people had next to no response to them other than "Whatever you want, Alex." I asked them if they could help me/if they had questions/comments/whatever, but alas, no response. Everyone was painfully silent.

The meeting was over. I gathered up my stuff, much discouraged, and began to head out. But who should I hear but Abby the social director? "Hey, Alex, wait up. I've got something to ask you!"

Aha! Someone cared! I was all ready to hear her questions and enlighten her with my fabulous ideas. All was not lost! Then she continued--

"I've been wondering this for a while, but I usually haven't gotten around to asking..."

"What's that, Abby?"

"Where do you get your clothes? I just love the little outfits you always wear."

Sigh.

Summer breeze...makes me feel fine

This sure has been one unseasonably warm September. The forecast for this week ranges from the high seventies to the nineties. I remember last year on my birthday I was wearing two shirts and tights under my skirt. This year, it felt like a summer day. It's more summer weather (but then again, this was a really hot summer) than fall type.
Well, that's good for going tailgating on the weekend and for going out. Who wants to get dolled up and go out and freeze? No one! Hopefully we have a warmer winter. I liked having the snow day last year, but I didn't like plodding through the snow to get to play practice or to run errands. One of the days in early November (I believe it was the day I saw the playhouse dance), the high was nine degrees. If I'm going to be taking the bus to get to work, I sure as hell don't want to be waiting out in the cold (my clients had better appreciate that!).
Guess the clothes and gear and chocolate perfume I bought for the fall will have to wait. I love fall fashions, but there's a time and place for those. This ain't it.

Two outta three ain't bad

So yesterday I went to see the acoustic set of the Pygmalion music festival. I had such a good time at it last year that I had to go again! This show had two things going for it from the start: being at my absolute favorite coffeehouse in this area and having last year's headliner, Ms. Lynn O'Brien (I've seen her twice). There were four other acts, three of which I'd never seen.
So my friends Addie and Kelly and I headed over to Paradiso, and the place was PACKED. Had we gone later, there would've been standing room only. It was packed, with the singers by the window. There was a miramba player who did her instrumental part before and between acts, and she had a cool sound. Kinda hypnotic, and kind of sounding like it came from outer space or something.
Lynn was the first act. I loved her at last year's show and at my feminist conference, but here she was even better. She was performing by herself (instead of with her family members backing her up) and she's really matured as an entertainer. She is a lot more confident and played some crowd-pleasers toward the end (my favorite is this slinky number called "Italy"), calling for the audience to join her in. My statement about her last year still holds--her music packs a groove so deep you need thigh-high leather boots to get through it! Only this time add some stiletto heels to the boots!
The second act was a guitarist named Angie Heaton. She sounds something like Shelby Lynne or Sheryl Crow, kind of old-time sounding rock but with some alt-folk thrown in there. She had a violinist play with her, which added a mournful tone to her tales of love and loss. She got the timid miramba player in on the fun by asking her to play along. Now I know what you're thinking. "A miramba for a bass line, Alex? Are you serious???" you ask. Well, let's just say that it sounded pretty damn cool! Angie's voice and stage manner have a sassy swagger to them, which is incredibly addictive!
Now for the third, this guy named Ryan Groff took the stage. Let's just say we didn't get past the first song. I don't know where this guy learned to sing or write, but he sang in this horrendously warbly falsetto and had some of the worst lyrics I've heard (the most clever line was a warbled-out "the people of the Midwest have giant hearts inside their chests," which was absolute torture to listen to). I felt like my eardrums were being churned up in a blender just listening to him (and he was one of the quieter acts)! So we left after that song, but hey, at least we got two good acts out of the deal. And I know who to avoid and who to see at next year's Pygmalion.

My birthday!!

I'm now officially the g-word: a geezer!

But I'm older and wiser and more opinionated than ever, and dammit, I love it!!!!

Ay, Wednesday is such an awkward day for a birthday, especially if you scheduled an interview the next morning! This weekend is sure to be fabulous, since the Pygmalion festival begins today and I will be off and rocking!

Still, I think this has been a good birthday. My buddies have been so cool and have planted surprises for me throughout the day! I've arranged all the cards I received up on my wall, and it's been a really good time. I can't wait till the weekend!

The Woes of an English Major

I normally consider myself to be a fairly calm and balanced person, but this made me want to rip out all of my hair and throw a dictionary through the windows of the English Building.

Apparantly our illustrious President has gotten into our English-language lexicon (or should I say dyslexicon?). For there, on the Merriam-Webster dictionary website (http://www.m-w.com/), the entry for the word "nuclear" says that it can be pronounced either "nu-clee-er," the correct way, OR (and THIS is what really pisses me off) "nu-kyu-ler" (the way our president mispronounces it).

Just because he is the president doesn't mean he's got control over our language. Since when has nucular been a word??

So this has got me thinking, as a good patriotic American, that if the word "nuclear" can be pronounced as nucular (and recorded as such in the dictionary, thanks to our president), then shouldn't the word "vernacular" have the alternate pronunciation of "vernaCLEAR" ? That would sound ridiculous! Almost almost almost as ridiculous (or ridicleas? why stop there?) as nucular!

We are living the age of the ridicleas nucular vernaclear. Or should I say the Bush dyslexicon?

The Family Values Tour

Okay, KoRn and Evanescence and the other nice people on that summer tour will have to forgive me for the title. I always find it funny that some of the darkest, creepiest, most morose and gloomy bands on earth always can be found on a tour named "Family Values," because they're the last thing anyone would think of when you think of family values.

But that got me thinking, what does family values mean, anyway? I recently had a conversation with a relative, and she was saying that this nation would not be in the state it was in if people "had more family values." I was pretty sure that my definition of it and hers were not the same thing, and her statement "Well, people need to be more God-fearing" only drove that difference home. Then I realized (as she elaborated onward) that that wish for "family values" meant the same thing a lot of the conservative right supports--"traditional" family (where the wife stays home and takes care of the kids and the husband is the breadwinner), an end to accessible abortion, prayer taught in schools, and absolutely no civil marriages/adoptions for the gay community.

I know she has a right to think what she wants to think, but I had to let her know that some of her reasons were wrong and that she left many more effective things out.
You want to talk family values?
I'd start by doing just that--valuing families. Raise the minimum wage. A family living on minimum wage cannot easily support itself, as they would be well below the poverty line. Maybe create accessible childcare at work. That way, not only would new jobs be created (by increasing the need for people to staff and maintain that childcare), but the parents wouldn't have to worry about their children when they're at work.
Another thing would be to improve the public school system. No, I don't mean call for prayer in public schools, but instead of give everyone a safe and clean and accessible environment. If kids are the future, then you need to treat them like a good future. It's disgusting to see how some public schools are clean and bright and have everything the students need and how others are dank and gross and generally unsavory places.
You want to talk about God-fearing?
Then start by living out your words. Why not start with getting rid of some of the evil you've helped create? Allowing millions of people to live on the streets without a home is evil. Not allowing a woman to have an abortion (a relatively safe procedure) when her life is in danger is evil (funny how that crowd never mentions protecting the life of the mother. Is her life less precious than the life of something that's still part of her?). Letting millions of people go hungry is evil. Fostering prejudice against any particular group (and then saying "that's the way things are" or "they're disrupting our way of life") is really evil. All of those are things that threaten the dignity of some families (and of life too).

So why doesn't the family values crowd talk about that or take steps or change all of that? The first place they can start is right here.

Pieces of me

All right, I REALLY can't stand the song I used to title this entry, but it was fitting for today. Well, today I've been feeling incredibly good about myself. I just donated a foot of quality Alex-hair to Locks of Love. My stylist just made a footlong ponytail and then practically SAWED it off with a scissors and then styled it to make it presentable. I must say, this is the shortest I've had my hair (aside from when I was a baby) for as long as I can remember. It's actually kind of cute--it's like a shorter page-cut, and it curls up underneath. Didn't know that would happen, but I like the results and think I will get it again this way. Either that or I'll grow it long again to donate another foot of it. It's so much more manageable than the mane was and it doesn't even mess when I headbang! It's kind of funny--I normally don't consider myself to be self-absorbed, but I've been playing with the hair at its new length and flipping it around (and when I got home, I just wanted to show it off!).

I'm not trying to sound self-righteous, but I swear, you've got bits and pieces of Alex going everywhere! I give my blood every three months (although I can't do it until September because of my recent piercing), I've given plasma at the plasma drive, and I've got the organ donor on my drivers license. And now the hair. Guess if I can't be of use to people, then pieces of me should be!

Where it all began

Let's go back in time to the nineties...where it all began! This is the story of how Alex became a feminist! I have been a feminist since the age of six. I know you're probably thinking "Are you kidding me?," but it is true. When I was in first grade, one of my classmates brought in a Susan Anthony coin for Show And Tell. I didn't even know who she was! When my dad came to pick me up in his blue Ford Escort, I was really excited to tell him that my schoolmate had showed us "a coin with a girl on it!" On the drive home (remember, we lived around twenty-thirty minutes north of the school), he told me all about who Susan Anthony was and about the fight for the right for women to vote. I didn't know what surprised me more--that there was once a time when they couldn't vote or that she got jailed for trying to! Whenever it was Election day, my parents would always tell me how important it was that everyone should vote, and they'd give me their little "I Voted Today" stickers. I was really surprised but completely intrigued by the story.

So I found out all that I could about the feminism. My tiny school library had those illustrated biographies of historical figures and I remember having as a kid this collection of biographies called the ValueTales (which told the story of a historical figure and a certain aspect of their life, often through the eyes of a historically-inaccurate anthropomorphic animal sidekick). I read and read. I was a total anomaly. In my hyperconservative WASPy grade school, I was one of the only liberals (not to mention non-WASPs). In fourth grade, I read more stuff about first-wave feminism and the suffrage movement. In sixth and seventh, I learned all about the ERA and second wave. I kept going. You couldn't stop me. Not that anyone tried.

...And here I am now....
See what a little lesson on a car ride home fifteen years ago can do?

My tale is a great story and one worth telling. And I have no problem with telling it. What's amusing to me is that it always really surprises or impresses people to know that it was a man who taught me about feminism. And actually, the dad is the one to identify himself with it--much more than any of my relatives. I'm serious!

Who says you can't go home?

With summer starting within a couple of days, I figured it was appropriate to make note of something I've been feeling pretty strongly these past couple of weeks. It seems like the places that are the most like home to me are the places I've sought out myself and/or created for myself. I don't mean to diss my family. My family is lovely, and I am certainly looking forward to seeing them. ALL of them!
But it seems as though I've felt the most welcome and been the most accepted in places where they know me and me alone/first. I haven't been very good at keeping in touch with high school friends. Many of us have kind of grown apart, or I've been the only one keeping the friendship alive. The place where I'm working is incredibly cliquish. I'm not trying to whine or be bitchy, but it really annoys me when it seems as though I'm making all of the effort to reach out and be friendly and no one reciprocates. I know I'm not shy anymore, and I do my best to remember important things about people. The weird thing is, when I'm back up north, I feel as though I'm just putting on a performance for people. It just feels kind of wrong...shouldn't your home be the first place where you feel like...well...you? I can't discuss many of my activities around certain relatives or high/grade school friends and certainly not around coworkers. If I told some of my coworkers that I was the Feminist Majority co-president for next year or that I participated in the Day of Silence, you can bet that they'd go out of their way to avoid me. If I told some extended relatives (not immediate ones...more like the ones you don't see as often) or high/school friends about the Ayyam-i-hah party I went to in February, they'd look at me like I was speaking Latin or something (although, technically the word "Ayyam-i-hah" is Farsi, not Latin). Even my own parents have asked me to tone down what I talk about, like my advocacy work or declaring. Topics like those are outside of the mainstream and outside of people's comfort zones, I guess.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

I just think that my experience in college has completely made up for all of that. Here, people know me for me. Not because they know my parents and by default know me because I'm their kid. Not just because I've lived there 10+ years. Not just because I obligatorily have to go there. People like me because they want to, not because they have to. I know that I'm not the most "ideal" friend--I can be a pretty polarizing and opinionated individual, and I can be a total bitch when I want to be (hell, I used that in one of my campaign speeches! I said, "I can totally bitch at people to make them vote. I'm a real live bitch!" when I ran for outreach director. I lost, but I did make 'em laugh!). But the communities I've either enjoyed being a part of or formed have all accepted me for me. Not for anything else. None of my professors know the rest of my family. They like my work because I do my best and it shows. They respect me because I put in a lot of hard work and talk my head off in discussion section (it's not unusual for a professor to tell me to let someone else talk for a change!). When I started attending devotions, I didn't know anyone there when I went the first time. But the people in the ECI cluster like me because we've taken the time to get to know each other. I didn't become friendly with them because they knew one of my relatives or lived near me, and they're just as nice to me as a declarant as they were to me as a seeker. Every club that I've joined is accepting of me because they know me and they know my work. I felt more like myself among my monologists (and that WAS a REAL performance!). At the Spring Social in April, I had a blast going around the teamster hall and introducing myself to all the other activists and talking with them. (And I didn't know anyone outside the planning committee! By the end, I had met all these cool new activisty people, and they gave me great suggestions for getting my word out!)

They say that home is what you make of it. I say it's what you make for yourself. I've found so much more respect and acceptance when I've been the one initiating it or making the opportunities for myself. While I am certainly looking forward to vacation and my lovely family and of course the fabulous concerts, I also am looking forward to the next school year.

A woman's place is...Anywhere she wants to be!

The above quote is a pearl of wisdom from one of my professors, and it will do very well for the title and topic.

My horrendously huge history paper was turned in today.

I finished it two days in advance.

I actually enjoyed poring over two decades of Look magazine to analyze representations of women in advertising. My teacher told me that if I could stand researching that thing and scrutinizing it to death, it would make a very good dissertation project. Seriously, I liked it. It was like a treasure hunt to find and scrutinize the ads in a way only the most militantly radical-feministy GWS students can do...

In sixteen pages (not counting works cited) of pure feministy goodness that is guaranteed to satisfy.

Is there something wrong with me?

I actually enjoyed said paper!