My boyfriend removed the pen caddy from the kitchen and now my whole life is falling apart. Ok not really but honestly I am disproportionately distressed by it. I need them just rarely enough that I never manage to put it back, but often enough that it throws me. And yesterday he took the tissue box out of there, too.

Is The Bottom Of This Bag Just Cold, or is it Damp?

My fancy expensive bag only has either a long cross body strap, or teeny handles so you CAN'T actually fit your shoulder in there. So either cross body or dangling from hand carrying.

I spent a stupid amount of money on this bag and also had a week long meltdown about it (them signifiers, I tell you what) and it's not big enough and the straps are dumb. HONESTLY.

It does get me good service in shops, though.

Turns out that yesterday, what was jingling was actual literal jingle bells that I bought as christmas decorations a week ago.

This is the bane of my life. Honestly.

This week we had a fire alarm in the building and had to evacuate and stand in the 40 degree heat at midday for twenty minutes.

That morning I had taken the fan and sunscreen out of my bag, like 'I've been carrying these around for a MONTH without using them'.

So karmically that fire was my fault, is what I'm saying.

I am feeling so grateful rn for my male university lecturers who were so lovely and respectful. And also the three or four who, in retrospect, were clearly keeping some of the others in line. They get gold stars and, when we have to send all men to the tundra, perhaps they will qualify for the occasional extra blanket or something.

Yes. I want to be able to read these books, if I choose to do so, without feeling shitty about my intelligence if I don't like them.

I still, as a 32 year old, feel grateful for every instance of an article like this. Because I need permission. Because I was told too many times that I wasn't like other girls, that I got it, that I was SMART, because I liked or understood the right things. And now any time there's a 'classic' that I haven't read or didn't like, I feel guilty and scared, like it will disqualify me from being worthy as a human.

Fuck that. These books exist. There may or may not be good things about them. They may or may not be worth reading. They are in no way intrinsically better than thousands of other books, whose authors happen to think I am a human and my experience with and opinion of their book is valid. Not 'right' but that I am allowed to have an opinion about it. I felt so often that my options with these man books were 'love it or shut up'. No room for 'well I like this about it but this other bit is awful' because they are celebrated as Great Novels. If you don't like them you probably read ROMANCES or something. (yes I fucking read romances, because I read for fun and romances are fun)

Anyway, I guess I am mad about this thing. Reading this article was like standing under a fan on a hot summer's day. I needed it, and I'm glad that it exists. I note that she does say 'read whatever you want'. It's just giving us permission not to, and not to want to, and not to want to see these authors held up above other authors - especially in lists like the Esquire one which seem to hold them up above other authors BECAUSE of their toxic masculinity.

I had not heard this thing before, but this was my reaction to it too, upon some thought.

Yes, white women could play roles of those people, in a thing. But this is not that thing and it is not FOR us. It is importantly FOR POC. It is fucking shitty to be playing oppression olympics with it, and it's typical white bullshit if I may say so, to be like 'oh a thing! I'll take it! What do you mean I'm not allowed to have this *one specific thing* even though I have access to many other things? How dare you!?!' Being a person who is oppressed for another reason doesn't actually dilute the shittiness of that - like what if a white gay dude said the same thing? No, thanks, white people, please cut it out.

I remember having a big argument with my mother about this, because the girls in my social group and I all used 'chicks' and it was a strong identifier for us and felt good to use. And she was like 'no it's demeaning never say it again because ~~feminism~~' I remember feeling really hurt and confused (I would have been about 14 I guess) and not being able to articulate how it was upsetting because she was taking our women-centric identifiers away from us, in the name of feminism. I think about that feeling a lot as a reminder to me to tread softly when I deal with other women with things like these, because I don't know their subcultural context, and that is an important thing.