I'm home with a sick kidlet today, thereby missing our company holiday lunch. As I don't think we were going to get to drink during this little party, I'm not too bummed about it. What good is a company party if you can't get a little buzzed and say all that stuff you hold back on during the rest of the year?
Lauren at Feministe repeats a question asked in a comment thread over at Protein Wisdom: Do we need feminism anymore in America? She breifly gives her reasons for saying yes, and goes on to ask for more elaborate answers in her comments. The best I can do at this point in the morning is a resounding, fuck yes! I will try to compose something a little more thoughtful before too much longer.
After having a crappy, hormonally-influenced bummer of a day yesterday, I realized that many, if not most, of my friends--both on- and offline--are taking happy pills. Although a fan of better living through chemisty (she says, sipping her coffee), I'll admit that anti-depressants scare the hell out of me.
In the spirit of family harmony and seasonal commercialization, the kidlet, his dad, and I went for the world's most expensive brunch on top of the Space Needle on Saturday. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience, framed by stunningly clear mountain views, crab eggs benedict, and no wait at all to see Santa.
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