I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving
I Write To Understand. I Write To Stop Time
After a short conversation about a klassy car parked outside the office with the pink words “Ms. Thickness” stickered across the top of the back window, my button-down supervisor says to us quietly:
“Just for your own safety, don’t Google “Ms. Thickness” while you’re at work.”
Oops.
I have never forgiven my mother for this:
When I was in junior high, we went to church with a man who worked at one of the large event venues in downtown St. Louis. One year, I think in seventh grade, so 1991, my mother woke me up before school…
****wavy going-back-in-time window***
“Hey Sarie! You know Bill and how he works for the stadium? Well, he’s pulled some strings for us to go to the New Kids on the Block concert coming up.”
Inspired by another blog post that appeared in my reader, (and PSA, you should get tested to see if you’re a feminist – they gave us a sure-fire way to determine that HERE.), I was reminded of a meme that helps us understand Feminism and it’s sister, Feminazi:
Except it isn’t. At all.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 
