I feel like being very honest today; very bold, candid. I was going to tweet something about giving book recommendations to a friend and fellow romance reader. It would go something like this:
All book recs to friend measure kink levels against @KresleyCole’s #TheProfessional. “There’s some but not like #The Professional!”
But then I couldn’t remember if family members followed me on there. Do I even care? In the infamous words of Eric Cartman, “Whateva, whateva. I do what I want!”
I posted something on Facebook from Huffington about Mayim Bialik’s claim that breastfeeding is not a sexual act, because she was berated for feeding her baby on a subway. She said that was the best way to calm the crying baby and was what she felt best for the entirety of that subway car. I completely agree: we’ve sexualized women’s breasts so much that when they’re used for the most primal of acts for their child – giving sustenance – society sort of flips out. Those kinds of articles piss me off. A.) Mind your own damn business. That’s her kid and her choice to make. B.) Get over yourself if you think your opinion on her choices is important. I was looking to pick a fight.
I turn 35 in a month and I am totally OK with this. It’s not 40 – yet – and I don’t feel very old, thankfully. But I want to do something for it, if even just a night out with friends. I’m thinking about reserving a couch at Level 8. My problem is that I have two friends who I’d invite, and they know each other. They were a part of this group we had before people started getting divorced or moving away. But then there are a couple other friends I want to invite who don’t know the others. Do I try to get everyone together or is that going to be awkward? I remember the birthday party I had in third grade. I’d recently left a private school and gone to public. I made the mistake of inviting about 5 girls from my previous school and 5 from the current. They created factions against each other and I remember there being a lot of drama that I tired desperately to mediate. It was NOT a good time. I’m obviously not nine anymore so this can probably be avoided. We’re adults and we’d be drinking so, do you think I ought to just invite everyone? I’m nervous about this.
I got into a discussion yesterday about whether or not it’s right to tell people your personal opinions on stuff. More specifically, it was about people who protest gay marriage and that kind of thing. What it all came down to was this: I really don’t give a rat’s ass if you think – inside your head – that gay marriage or being any other X, etc is wrong. That’s fine; that’s your right. But you do not have to go and share that with everyone else, especially if it’s going to lead to something as unproductive as a rally or protest. Put it this way: I HATE Tom’s shoes. With a deep, burning passion. But I wouldn’t ever say to someone how their shoe choice is WRONG, because when they bought those shoes, I bet they brought them a good deal of satisfaction. And who am I to take that away?
Now I did tell this guy the other day, who was smoking right next to the FSU is tobacco free sign, that we are indeed a smoke-free campus. The problem, you see, is that it’s not enforced. It is, apparently, just a suggestion. But I have always been the kind of person who, although I may break the rules sometimes, my first reaction to that would be to obey the sign. I guess I would have been more mad if I were still pregnant. Because it’s just fucking rude to smoke around other people, in my opinion.
I feel sick today and I’m in a shit mood; let’s see if I can make it through student conferences without being too punchy.