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Language Log

Monday, Nov. 03, 2008 - 10:15 p.m.

We're back home from Memphis. The house smells like crap because the cat(s) keep crapping all over the floor of the garage, whether or not their litterboxes are clean or not. And now they're being whiny for no good reason. I am annoyed.

I upset J's father by screaming and fleeing when he joggled a baby in my direction the other day. J got a talking to later that night. I am a jerk; I like to torment the nice. His parents have been perfect in-laws, I owe them much love and gratitude, and at the same time as I genuinely feel those things, I also feel a wicked joy in tormenting them with my non-compliance with gender norms. Yeah, I'm an asshole. I know. Here's the thing: I can be an asshole all I want, but I'm also falling in line. They'll get what they want in the end. But anyone who expects me to fall in line without a little fight first doesn't know me. (And they don't know me, really-- they're nice folks who fundamentally don't understand people who don't mind being assholes).


I really want the damn election to be over with. We're taking food and our services down to Obama headquarters tomorrow morning.

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