New discoveries worth mentioning: I absolutely HATE medical-surgical nursing, The Amazing Dr. G is moving away, and my therapist is probably the most awesome fucking feminist in my area.
I don't have much to say about school. Just that December can't get here fast enough. When I embarked on this nursing school journey, I was easily pulling As in accelerated core classes. Now that I'm in the midst of all things nursing, I find myself rejoicing over anything above a 75%. It's hard, because I may not be a genius, but I am *not* stupid by any means. My test grades don't always reflect that.
Dr. G is moving close to her hometown, which happens to far away from me. I was sad for a few days, then I remembered that this time next year, I could potentially be in a completely different state and I see her once a year... So, fuck... Cut your losses.
My therapist (gotta think of a name for that fantastic bitch) is outraged about the whole "women can't get birth control" thing and how a man in our area got a penile implant and it was covered by insurance. Her advice was to "get him a strap-on and let him play with that shit." If I were thin, blond, and white, she could totally be my mom, because we have pretty much everything in common. She is so fucking intelligent.
Feminism has newly piqued my interest. I consider myself a feminist. Honestly, I didn't even know what a feminist was. Well, I did know, but I didn't think my understanding matched the actual definition. Turns out, it's... pretty simple: Equality. Awesome. I am with all that shit.
I bought the book "Full Frontal Feminism" by Jessica Valenti in an effort to... Fuck, I don't know what my reason was for ordering this damn book. I don't have time to read it unless I'm on the toilet and it's not related to anything I should be studying. I guess I bought it because... I'm curious. I just wanted to learn and understand anything that she could offer me on the topic of feminism.
I'm only a few pages in and I have mixed feelings. I find myself rolling my eyes and sighing at the overall "homegirl attitude" of the book. I feel like she's trying too hard to be relatable and appealing. Then again, I can't imagine finding this book worth reading if it was full of black and white feminist history with no personal experiences or opinions. I read it in spurts and I don't find myself eagerly anticipating the next page turn. I guess I don't really like it, but I'll definitely finish it and add it to my personal library, since I paid for it.
I think there are so many types of feminists, which is why the reputations range from "angry and insufferable bitches" to "whiny sluts who need to shut the fuck up." I think that's why I was so apprehensive to identify myself as one. I fucking hate labels. I hate the stigma that comes along with identifying myself as anything...
I don't identify as bisexual. I love people, not women or men. Of course, I have my preference as everyone else does, but every person I encounter can potentially be a partner for me, because I don't identify people by what is between their legs. I care more about that wonderfully wrinkled hunk of matter between your ears.
I didn't want to identify as a feminist because sometimes I feel that some feminists border on female supremacy over gender equality. I don't like that. I don't think I'm better than anyone. Wait, lie. I do think I'm better than some people, but it's not because I have ovaries and a vagina. Whenever I identify as something, I wish people would respond with "Well, what does that mean for you?" because their understanding if what I am may not parallel with the actuality of what I am.
I guess this circles back to the whole "labels and definition" debate. Don't put me in a box. Don't try to understand. Just let me be the person who defines who I am.