Give me a G-S-S

In addition to lots of other fun things



(such as staying at the Circus Circus Hotel...



...or rescuing Rachel Hansen's earring from the bathroom drain with a paper clip)

I got back in touch with my high school roots this past weekend in Reno.

People I have met since my days at CHHS are often surprised to learn that I was a cheerleader for 5 years. I generally take that as a compliment, although I wonder if I've lost my pep.

But with the help of Larkin and Rachel at the NAGPS regional conference, it was confirmed:



once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader. Go Graduate Student Society!

What are the chances?

About 5 minutes after I last posted, I saw a guy wearing a shirt that read:

"Feminist chicks dig me."

I'd say, slim to none.

The Feminine Misnomer

"Feminist" is a title that I would rather avoid. It has taken on such a nasty connotation--the man hating, bra burning, abortion advocating, I-always-the-victim claiming, liberated-from-responsibility woman. Nonetheless, I do consider myself as being very aware of and in many ways worried about the problems associated with gender discrimination and sexism. So if that makes me a feminist, so be it.

Unfortunately, I think that in at least one major respect the feminist movement has failed the women of this generation. Instead of expecting equal respect as women, we (referring collectively to the women who make up the feminist movement) demanded to be treated like men. We pushed for sameness rather than true equity. We vowed to free ourselves from the roles forced upon us by a male-dominated society of woman--homemaker, wife, and mother--instead of asking for both the freedom to CHOOSE our role for ourselves and for equal prestige in those roles.

In other words, we degraded ourselves further by spurning motherhood and childrearing as inferior instead of raising the prestige of those roles. And in the process, we have prostrated ourselves before the Gender Gods and offered a prayer to take away our femininity. We have hated ourselves and worshiped men by wishing more than anything to become them.

So now, instead of having a society in which men and women are equally respected, we are creating a society in which men's work is still viewed as superior, and only those women who become the most like men receive the most recognition and status.

And I am guilty of being a part of it. Because in all honesty I see my future career prospects as more prestigious than my future as a mother. And I FEEL guilty for it. And I need and want to change.

I don't think the solution is for all women to stay home with their children or for all women to go to work (which, of course, would change the definition of childrearing to "work" since someone would still have to do it, even if they are getting paid). But I also know that building walls and judging each other as women for the choices that we make in trying to navigate this sticky issue only contributes to the problem. We are our own worst critics.

I also recognize the caveat that this whole work-versus-stay at home discussion is really only germane to that portion of the female population which has the ability to choose. Many women would love to have children, or to stay home with them full-time, but are powerless to do so. As an upper-middle class, white, college-educated American, I realize that it is quite silly to complain about just about anything in terms of societal status and advantage. Oh, that poor woman who can pay all of her bills, live in a safe neighborhood, has a husband who views her as a full partner, and has control over her reproduction and lifestyle. She has it so hard.

But from the larger perspective of women's role, respect, and equality in general, I think we need to change our approach. And we need a new word to call it that isn't so polarizing.

For Brooke, my favorite married SIL

How long have you been together? We'll celebrate our third anniversary in August.

How long did you date? Eleven months, including engagement

How old is he? 26

Who eats more? Usually Chris, but sometimes I eat more for breakfast. Most important meal of the day!

Who said "I love you" first? Chris. I told him he couldn't yet because it was too soon. So he spent the next few months writing me love notes justifying why he really did love me. Then I let him say it (and said it back to him) right before he went home for Christmas...so romantic.

Who is taller? Chris.

Who sings better? The real question who LIKES to sing more? Definitely me--Chris calls me "Jukebox Wife".

Who is smarter? Me, of course. So goes the Bailey proverb: "Always listen to the wife".

Who does the laundry? We both do, and usually at my parents' house.

Who does the dishes? We both do, but Chris probably does them more often.

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Me

Who pays the bills? We both do. I pay the electric and phone, Chris pays the rent and insurance. It's just sort of worked out into a status quo that way.

Who mows the lawn? Neither of us, though when we have one, I don't want to do it. Chris maintains the porch garden.

Who cooks dinner? When we actually cook dinner...I initiate, and Chris is my excellent assistant.

Who is more stubborn? Probably me.

Who kissed who first? Chris kissed me first. But I was not subtle about whether or not he should.

Who asked who out? The love doctor Tina set us up...and I acted surprised when he asked me.

Who proposed? Officially-Chris. Practically-me. Chris was pretty much waiting for me to decide if I was ready to tie the knot. So I told him I was. We were sitting on the couch at my parents' house. Very romantic.

Who is more sensitive? Me

Who has more friends? Friends that we keep in touch with, probably me. Though we are both better at being friendly than at making friends.

Who has more siblings? Counting in-laws, me.

Who wears the pants in the relationship? Well, neither of us like to wear skirts, that's for sure.

Who are you tagging? Beth. I don't know if I have any other married blog patrons who would take the tag.

Step 2: Pass your oral thesis defense

Check.

Thanks everyone for your well wishes and encouragement. I started feeling better not a moment too soon, and my voice lasted just long enough.

Come on Tamiflu, don't let me down.

At a most unfortunate time, I have come down with the flu. So if any of you are available to do a presentation at noon on Friday titled, "Mechanisms by which Apoptotic Membranes Become Susceptible to Secretory Phospholipas A2," please let me know.

If not, just...pray that Tamiflu is worth $80.90.

Meant for private consumption

I realize that in some ways I am a very private person. So I find myself at times surprised by the things that some people deem acceptable to do in public settings. Take the following example...

I was in the BYU library using a computer at one of those clusters of computers on the fifth floor. The computer facing mine on the other side of the table was being used by a nondescript male patron. An amorous female who I assumed was his wife pulled up a chair next to him. They began talking and smooching and so forth. It was a little awkward.

Then, she did the most unexpected thing, and I wish that I had not seen it transpire--she reached over and popped a pimple on his face. They both continued the conversation, not missing a step. Obviously, this was common behavior in their relationship. Never has the phrase "get a room" been more appropriate.