Musing

I was born in 1974. I played with gender neutral toys (with the exception of an extensive My Little Pony collection). I joined the first computer club my junior high school ever formed. I won a blue ribbon at the science fair. I smoked Marlboros in high school. Even with my generally girly college major, I chose a masculine, leadership emphasis. In the frat I was a champion belcher. I've always had the right to vote, been free to sue for sexual harassment, and only very rarely been made to feel that the world was not, indeed, my oyster. For that matter, I've spent what is nearly the last five years enjoying every natural advantage my gender brings to my job. In short, I am the product as well as the beneficiary of the feminist revolution.

So there I sat tonight, watching TV, cussing at Maureen Dowd for her anecdotal pile of crap masquerading as original political thought. Uh, I mean, her book. I was really working up a good head of steam when I had one of those head shaking moments.

My freshly baked apple cobbler was still warm enough to scent the room where I was sitting with my embroidery. Yeah, I'm really setting the world on fucking FIRE.