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Saturday, December 13, 2003 

Sometimes, I really wish the feminist movement hadn't gone and guillotined Miss Manners. I never thought engraved calling cards were outrageous. Never. Ditto with crust-less cucumber sandwiches, obscene amounts of tea, or societally repressed sexuality. They might have had a thing going with the bra-burning, but after Gloria Steinham got married, I'm a bit confused. I mean, who am I supposed to go to now for answers if my roommate, who leaves for Winnipeg tomorrow, gives me a last-minute Christmas present and I've been more fixated on hating French for the last three days?

And one of my MUG leaders just came by with chocolate cake for me and my roommate. Home-baked, for the coup-d'etat. I feel like such an ungrateful and unconsciencious toad next to her; we both have the same French exam tomorrow morning, but she goes downstairs and chats him up, while I thank him, promise to try some tomorrow, and slink back into my room. They're still there, I think, and this of course is after I go downstairs to boil water, making it abundantly clear that I am an antisocial, myopic (the best kind) geek.

I hate that the Japanese can be trendy, extroverted, and have great minimalist style simultaneously. As someone from a heritage that likes covering all architecture with great swaths of red and fake gold paint, I'm feeling like the next time a guy at Second Cup marks me out as of Hong Kong descent I'm going to make like I'm Mongolian. Or Polynesian. I figure there's no better way of getting over my ab insecurities than wearing a hip-enhancing grass skirt and lei.

About me

  • I'm daft
  • From Arlington, Virginia, United States

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