- also posted 12/3/07 - www.myspace.com/chief_reindeer -
This is not some grand academic exercise in post-modern feminist deconstruction of popular culture or media. If you want that, start with the basics (de Beauvior, Betty Freidan) and work your way up to Camille Paglia and Cristina Hoff Sommers. And I don't mean that as East Coast liberal as it sounds. Really, you should read that stuff.
And I must state, for the record, that I have been threatened with vaginal repossession not once, but twice. First by a dear purse-dropping friend (Turtles, you know the one, sweetie darling) who, upon hearing my dislike for f'me stilettos proclaimed, "That vagina is going back to the store because you just don't deserve it." The other time was in a classroom at Rutgers where I could no longer suppress the humor I was feeling. Seriously, there are few things more enjoyable than listening to a spoiled kid, who only 6months ago was angsting-it-up to Avril Lavigne and skipping school to stand outside the 'TRL' window, regurgitate that one semester of Feminist Theory with all the passion her 'I'm-just-experimenting', Ani DiFranco listening soul can muster. Dude, it's freakin' awesome.
But seriously, there are some things being a girl gets you that are, well, not fair. Don't get me wrong. It isn't easy being female. We have it comparatively pretty rough out here. I mean, other than figuring out how to sit down without crushing my very vital and precious organ, I think being a guy is suh-weet. Ya'll got it made-in-the-shade. And if you are Caucasian? Pfft. Fuh-getuhabit.
For example I can watch Lifetime and not be hassled for it. For some inexplicable reason, I find myself watching, often in writhing torture (remember kids, self-destructive) those stupid, stupid, stupid emotional movies. You know the ones. The stories of women coming back after being beaten down (often literally). Girl power for the menopausal. It's where 80s sitcom moms go to age gracefully in between their QVC appearances for their line of seasonal sweaters and stirrup pants. I swear, last night, I heard Meredith Baxter (don't call me Bernie) deliver the following line, with all the sincerity of David Spade helping you disembark, "It's a Christmas miracle that we are all together this year". Priceless. And very gay if you are a guy. Even if you are gay and a guy, it's pretty fucking gay. And as we all know, things that are pretty fucking gay will get your ass pretty fucking kicked.
Also, I get a pass when I do something stupid or manipulative. Ugh, cramps. Ugh, mood swing. Ugh, PMS. Sorry, Officer, just having one of those crazy girl moments *giggle giggle*. Air quotes included.
Yesterday I changed shirts before going to the store because I didn't want to wear a shirt I had bought to the store I had bought it from. When I told a friend this, and stated I already knew it was weird, he just laughed and said, "silly". But I'm a girl and that's ok. And it's kinda cute.
I'm not saying being a girl is all about emotion or clothes or quirks. It just is for me. I also told the same friend yesterday that I am my own emotional Indy 500. I see a brick wall and I want to run into it. Full speed. For the thrill and to say I did it. The bruises will heal. But I f'n did it. I'm out of control. I'm up and I'm down and, dear Lord almighty, I'm frequently side-ways and spiraling.
I'm a girl, though. So it's all ok. I don't have to be stagnant. I don't have to be constant and stable. It isn't fair. And I don't _mean_ to abuse the system. But I can't help it. Just like I can't help that I've lost the last 2hrs of my life waiting to see Judith Light locate that love-child she gave up 30yrs ago when she was 16 and scared. I think that is the name of it, btw, or it should be – "Sixteen and Scared: The Carrie Whethers Story".
My XX chromosomes can get me a lot of things. Unfortunately, though, no genetic preference can restore wasted time. Arggs! Now I'm late. Oh well, I'll just tell them I got caught up watching this movie. They'll understand. They are probably watching it too. Such girls!
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