Wednesday, November 24, 2004


When I was a senior in high school, I wrote an essay asserting that the custom of women shaving their legs is disempowering. (The essay is posted below.) I maintained my hairy, femi-nazi ways until shortly before I joined the USMC. Pulling your hair back and donning baggy camouflage utilities will make a girl realize how good being feminine can be. No longer a ball-busting social reformer, I have swung to the other extreme. My littlest sisters, self-described tomboys, now turn up their noses at me and call me a “girly-girl.”

It’s true; I am enamored with all things domestic. Last year, for Christmas, I asked my husband for a crock pot and a cake dish. Most women are offended when they receive small appliances as gifts from their significant others. I use the crock pot often and the cake dish is lovely. My latest domestic purchase is a VACUUM CLEANER.

I have owned one vacuum cleaner since leaving home. It was a “restored” upright from the local Hoover repair shop. It didn’t work so well, but it was all I could afford on my meager income. Once I started making the big bucks, I dreamt of the perfect vacuum: a vacuum that sucks, a vacuum that is quiet, a vacuum with a HEPA filter, a vacuum for my newly installed carpet. Still a scientist at heart, I researched my choices with Consumer Reports and settled on the Kenmore (Sears) Whispertone 23513. It meets all of my requirements and, best of all, it is red and oh-so-sporty!

I am a little ashamed to have let down my sisters with my descent into domesticity, but I have not completely turned to the dark side. On the same night that I purchased the vacuum cleaner, I also bought a jigsaw. There is nothing like a power tool to channel the inner tomboy.


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