This whole feminism thing…
So, I’ve been doing a fair bit of thinking, both in conjunction with my last post and in general. As the mother of a little girl, I am inundated with advice on how to raise her as a “feminist,” and frankly, most of it sucks. See, I’m a gal who likes to split the difference. I have really long hair, easily own my weight in jewelry, cannot easily give you the number of shoes I own, the folks at my local Bath & Body Works know me by name, as do the good people at Starbucks, one of my favorite outings is to the mall, I love to cook, and I like to show off my cleavage. I also drive a pick-up truck, drink beer, drink whiskey, know an awful lot about both of those alcohols, love hockey, swear a lot, hate make-up, hate the color pink,...
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