today, walking back from my job at wifp, and holding, mind you, two books, one of which was a biography of patricia ireland, president of now, some guy whistled and made a thoughtful, incisive comment on my breasts. i mean, i appreciate irony as much as the next child of the 90s, but sometimes it just gets tiring. especially since i’ve spent the last week — my first in the office — researching pornography and violence against women.

ah well. working for the feminists is pretty new for me: i come from a democratic family but not a liberal one, really. my father professed support for some version of socialism for about 6 and a half minutes during its heyday in the 50s when he was at uchicago; nowadays when he says “feminism” it’s generally in the same tone of voice in which he’d say “astrology” “spiritualism” “alien abduction” “football” or some other example of american dimwittedness. altho he’s making an effort to keep the eye-rolling in check since i’m devoting my summer to this non-paid internship, and i appreciate it.

i don’t know if my mother ever considered herself a feminist. she traveled and lived all over the country after college, including on an indian reservation for a while through the VISTA program, and didn’t get married until she was 30. and she’s worked more or less every day of her adult life. hmm. i guess i should ask.

i met my friend becca for coffee last nite in bethesda — we’re old friends, from cty (yay preadolescent overachievers!), and she’s one of the few people i know who isn’t taller than i am so it’s always comfortable to be w/ her: we’re actually at eye-level when we converse. that can be such a relief. anyway, she’s in town, living w/ relatives and working in mclean.

we were supposed to meet up w/ matt rubin as well. you might not recognize the name now but the odds are you will, someday. he’s also in town, staying the gwu dorms and working cheerfully on capital hill for the damn republicans. naturally, the three of us could not connect; becca and i ended up in xandos alone, and matt rubin (ruby) ended up in barnes and nobles, leafing thru Playboy.

a good time was had by all.

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