I kinda like it but I kinda hate it

Early this morning, I wrote a well thought-out blog on racism in America. I let it live for an hour on myspace, then I deleted it. I decided that this space, my blog space, should not be a place of heavy left-ism thought. While indeed I am a liberal gal, there is no need shoving my agenda in anyone’s face when they’d rather read about how many times I hear the toilet flush from the crapper adjacent to my office. Anyhow, I’d rather consider the implication of having an office so close to the bathroom, than wage heavy political battles amongst my friends.

My how far I’ve come from those feminist days in college. I’ve traded Wollstonecraft for Austen. In my defense, didn’t Wollstonecraft try to drown herself in oven gas?

Here in this school of education, our firecracker Dean hired 2 somewhat questionable Assistant Deans. Wait, make that 3 questionable {This part was edited out, c’mon guys I don’t wanna lose the paycheck}

And the third. The "absent minded professor". How this ditzy woman made it through college we will never know. Although I am convinced she uses her stupidity as an excuse for breaking the rules. "Oh, I can’t take my family out to eat on VCU money? I didn’t realize that. Well, just see what you can do to fix it."

She just poked her head into my office and said in her light airy voice (which is a long description for totally fake) "There are donuts in the Dean’s Office. Krispy Kreme." I believe she was expecting me to jump up, grab her, kiss her flat on the lips, cry a bit, and dash for the donut box. She was rather disapointed in my reaction which was simply "No thanks." She frooze, gave me a weasel stare, then click-clacked off to the crapper.

Meanwhile my coworker, freshly returned from a root canal, is flying high off pain medicine. She is literally dancing in the hallways. She is a child of the hippy generation and I am slightly worried she may strip and run naked down the hall.

I want what she is having.

I went out to eat with Angelica a couple of days ago. She says "Oh you got your haircut. I like it, but I kinda hate it too." Bothered by this, I say to hubby, "do you like my haircut?" He says "Yeah, it’s okay." I said, "Angelica said she kind of hates it." He says "Well, I liked it better long." So I ask my coworker Heather, "Was my hair better before?" She says "Noway, it’s a change, change is good." I say, "Yeah but I don’t get hit on anymore." She says "That’s precicely why I cut my hair. I was tired of the Bubbas hitting on me." I say, "Yeah, thats true it was always the Bubbas when I had all that hair." She concludes, "Long hair makes the Bubbas think you are young, silly, and impressionable. Men can get in the pants of the long-haired girls." So I am left wondering, at almost 31, do I really care if I am the type of girl men want to get in the pants of? I mean shouldn’t that ego-stroking end at some point in a womans life when they decide to get serious about being a person and not just a piece of meat? Uh oh, I’m philiospohizing on a liberal platform again. But let me say one last thing, most women over 30 love short hair, and I get it. It’s easy to do. professional. and confident. Just like me...with the exception of easy to do, I mean seriously...

My coworker, Dana (the-hot-one-men-drool-over-that-also-sits-beside-the-crapper), is in Vegas right now loving life. I was supposed to be in Vegas next week. But I couldn’t pull it together. So instead I will be at home watching 1970 Oscar films. Honestly they should have shut Hollywood down during that decade.

So now just 2 more fake and bake hours left of this state-employee’s day. And then I’m off to pay my state-employee-fine (aka parking), then to the shrink, then to a dirty kitchen and two children who are bubbly no matter if the kitchen is clean or not.