Dear random old man I passed on the street-corner one morning,
The morning began like many others: I woke up, ruing the three glasses of wine and four gin and sodas I’d consumed the night before, not to mention the chicken nuggets I’d subsequently drunkenly shame-eaten in my bed. The empty ripped-apart McDonald’s bag lay on the floor, eliciting as much regret as a used condom beside a college girl’s bed the morning after a questionable Tinder date. I pulled myself together best I could and mentally prepared myself for the long day of peddling mediocre vegan food that lay ahead.
Continue reading “an open letter to the random old man i passed on the street-corner one morning”
So, I have a confession. This might come as a surprise, but…I am a feminist. A big, huge, raging Crazy Feminazi™. Actually, that really shouldn’t be a surprise. If you’ve read more than one of my posts and haven’t figured that one out for yourself, I don’t really know what to tell you.
As you’ve probably noticed, feminism has kind of been having its day in the light for the past couple years or so. Some might even call it “trendy”. Nowadays, it seems that every time a female celebrity gets interviewed, she gets asked the question, “Are you a feminist?” And, I mean, I guess that’s better than asking mundane questions about their diets for their latest movies or where they get their hair done or whatever, but many of their answers have revealed something about the public’s view on this controversial topic:
People really, really don’t know what feminism even is.
Of course, I’m far from the first one to try to correct these misconceptions, but I thought I might as well add my voice to the crowd, because I really like hearing myself talk (reading myself write, whatever, same/diff). So, without further ado, here are a few of the most common “myths” about feminism that I encounter in my trollings around the Web and in my daily life: Continue reading “feminist mythbusting, part I”
Dear dude on the subway three Thursday nights ago,
It was 10 o’clock on the night before Halloween, and the first night of Halloweekend. Halloween is one of my favourite times of the year; you get to be whoever and whatever you want, be as sexy or silly or weird as you want, and nobody will say anything about it.
Or so I thought. Continue reading “an open letter to the dude on the subway”