While sitting on the back patio Friday night a conversation came up regarding feminism. It was a brief conversation, but it occurred to me that even in 2006 there are still so many misconceptions on what feminism is, and what it is not.

I can’t speak on behalf of the entire movement, and I most certainly can’t speak on behalf of the 3rd wave (what with me being just a wee bit too old to be one of those fierce little bitches, Goddess bless ‘em), but I can speak for myself.

Might I suggest stopping here, taking a bathroom break, getting coffee, and then coming back to read? Get comfy, this is going to be a long one.

Read the rest of this entry »

For the last several weeks I’ve been attending weekly training sessions here at work. Sort of interesting, I suppose. Yesterday was actually even entertaining. Most of what we cover, however, I already know, but when your boss signs you up for classes designed to further your career within the company, you can’t really say, “Oh, no, that’s cool, I already know that.” Well, you could, but it may reflect poorly on you later when you are telling explaining to your boss that you need a raise and a promotion tout de suite.

*cough* Moving on.

Read the rest of this entry »

A comment I made over at c@t(-)*er*!ne’s blog, and have made elsewhere in the blogosphere got me thinking about a question once asked on another blog that is now defunct.

The question was simple. If we are all required to wear signs clearly stating our issues, insecurities, mental hangups, what would your sign say and why? Would it be an honest reflection of your personality, or would you pretty it up and pretend to be perfect?

Mine would say “Does Not Do Drama”, with probably a little subtext that said “No, really, drama makes me explode.” Why? Because drama makes me insane. I don’t respond well. I’d like to, really. I’d love to just be able to look at someone and say, “Oh, aren’t you a drama queen?” and then laugh at them. But, alas, that is not the way things go. I get angry and resentful. So, uh, keep your drama to yourself, k?

How about you, what’s your sign?

Hooboy, here it is… Breast Cancer Awareness Month! Oh how terribly exciting! Every single year my doctors see fit to scare the shit out of me. Not this year, you soul sucking bastards! Screw the mammogram, screw the ultrasound, screw the unneeded biopsy. I’m going straight for the MRI. Take that!

For the fifth year running, a group of bloggers is promoting the Annual Boobie-Thon. The premise is… interesting. You send in pictures of your boobies. They put your boobies on their website and charge people $50 a pop to peek at them, if they are bare that is. Covered boobies are free to look at. The money is then donated to either The Komen Foundation or Children’s Hospital Boston.

According to the site, “If they’re worth looking at, they’re worth saving!”

Uh. Yeah.

Breast cancer isn’t about not being able to look at someone’s tatas for pleasure anymore. Breast cancer is about life and death. It destroys more than just boobs, it destroys lives, victim and surviving family alike. And I am more than just a place for my boobs to rest.

Needless to say, I won’t be sending in a picture. Knock yourself out if you want to, I’m not here to judge you. It’s a good cause, and while the Komen Foundation is one big marketing machine, some research is better than no research I suppose.

If you’d like an alternative, check out one of my absolute favorite bloggers, Twisty at I Blame The Patriarchy. For every person that doesn’t send her a boob shot, she’ll donate $1 to Breast Cancer Action. Her deadline is midnight Tuesday.

And don’t forget ladies, get your mammograms done. If you are 40 and over, get busy making your appointment. If you are like me and have a serious family history of this disease, start getting them done when you are 30. And get them done Every Single Year. No good comes from waiting.