April 17th, 2003

Daria

Noooooooooo!!!!

According to Time magazine: "To all those lovelorn Gen-Xers who've been waiting for geek-hunk actor John Cusack to show up outside their windows with a boom box: he's not coming." Because he's dating Meg Ryan.

It's bad enough that he's not dating me (seriously, there is no accounting for some people's taste), but couldn't he date someone cool instead of fluffy-brained, post-feminist Meg Ryan?!

(kellinator and atomicnumber51 collapse in a sobbing heap)
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    snarky
Daria

Speaking of post-feminist...

Here in Georgia they've been talking a lot about Martha Burke, Hootie Johnson, and whether the Masters should admit women.

Well, I think Hootie Johnson is a cranky old coot and the Masters should join the twenty-first century and admit women already. But I have to admit, when I think about all the issues of concern to women today, I understand why fewer and fewer women self-identify as feminists. We used to talk about this in my women's studies classes as a sort of ivory-tower effect: the feminist spokespeople making most of their noise over things which are not necessarily of interest to most women. As far as I'm concerned, Hootie can keep his boys' club if we can have equal pay for equal work, affordable child care, and a myriad of other things that I just think are of far more importance to the average woman than joining a club that only filthy rich people can afford to join anyway.
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    thoughtful thoughtful
Daria

So, when do I start feeling like a grownup?

Tuesday (April 22) is my birthday. I'll be turning 25. I'm starting to feel old.

Yes, I know 25 isn't "old"! But I'm frustrated with what I haven't accomplished, especially in the last three years when everything went to shit. I'm digging my way back up, slowly but surely, but I realized last week that I made a goal on my last birthday -- write my novel -- that I didn't even come anywhere close to. (I wrote Homicide fanfic, does that count? I probably wrote enough stuff in here to make a novel, how 'bout that?)

I have to admit I get a lot of satisfaction out of my job, even if I am just a glorified gofer. (Official title: Interlibrary Loan Specialist. Unofficial title: Copy Bitch/Errand Wench.) Yesterday while sailing out the door I tossed off to a coworker, "If anyone's looking for me, I'm in a meeting at General" and felt utterly grownup and sophisticated. (The meeting was boring as fuck, but that's not important.)

But I guess I'm still waiting to see when I start feeling grownup. I have a feeling I'm going to be waiting for a while.
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    weird weird