tuckova

I am definitely having a damn humans get off my planet kind of week.

First
of all, problems with the computer, which, if you know me, you know that is Not Good. I concede that my relationship with the internet is a little like an addiction, except that I think junkies go through withdrawal more pleasantly. I must also add in my increasingly
shrill voice that I Need It For Work. Listen, YOU try editing a paper
about the isolation of ligands in a single step gradient elution without
the internet. I need it first so I can find out what ligand field theory
is, and second so I can rest my eyes on that pretty Gotye video.

Second, I went to the equivalent of a book group meeting on the "What
About the Mens?!" article in the increasingly tree-wasting Atlantic
Monthly. Being a feminist is a lot like being an American, I am
realizing. You spend a lot of time splaining how things are not what
people think they are, and trying to get people to see both your own actual point of
view and further how other people in the group might have their points of view, etc., and
well mainly my conclusion is that a body cannot consume enough alcohol
to make the conversation go quickly enough. I did agree with the article
insofar as yes, it is neat how the ladies have been given the vote and
now even upgraded to second-class citizens, that sure is exciting
progress. Then the next day I went to Czech class and the
twenty-something teacher, you know, the beneficiary of the hard work of
my generation, made a rape joke and I am not entirely convinced I ought
not live in a cave somewhere.

Third, I have some massive issues with Other Parents. It is to do
with striking the balance between making sure your child knows about
unconditional love, and making sure your child does not expect the rest
of the world to give it. I maybe cannot explain it well. It is a thing I
think about a lot, the desire to armor your child for the world and the
desire to require them to forge their own armor. I feel like the parents who work hard for
their children to be cool, or have happy childhoods, or never worry
about adult problems, are in a way not helping the children or society
as a whole.

Basically this week I am thinking with great longing towards my future
in a nursing home for Victorian feminists, where I will needlepoint cushions that say IBtP. I hope they have a good
internet connection.