Mmmm...Feministy goodness

Katha Pollitt has a new book out (Virginity or Death!), a collection of essays, and Salon has a pretty good interview up, covering the book, feminism, and the negative review she got in the Times. I have to admit to being a 'bad' feminist - I'm not all that familiar with Pollitt's work. But based on the interview and skimming a few of her linked columns, she sounds pretty good to me. I just hope she's right:

I guess I feel that the rollback of our rights is only temporary -- and I say that in my introduction. That a big modern industrial country like America is not going to become a right-wing Christian nation in which you have to show your marriage certificate to get birth control. If you can measure the strength of an impulse by the ferocity of the opposition to it, I would say that feminism is very much alive. People don't spend a lot of time anymore bashing unions, for example. They don't spend a lot of time bashing the black power movement, but feminism really gets to people. So I think the fact that it really gets to people shows both its relevance and its power.

DFW* just abbreviated Peano's Postulates as P.'s P.s and I kind of love him for it. (improper application of apostrophes when pluralizing words is a rather large personal pet peeve)

*yes, I'm still reading A Compact History of Everything and More.

Alas, it's buried behind the Times Select, because I'd really like to read John Tierney's op-ed, if for no other reason than to be able to write an appropriately scathing letter. The tagline below his headline ('Let the Guys Win One') reads, " Why is it so important to cling to the myth behind Title IX: that women need sports as much as men do?"

My parents just got back from vacation (in the Keys, those lucky ducks) and Dad sent me an e-mail from work with no text, just the subject line, 'ran into this guy, he says he knows you.' Attached was a picture of a Captain Morgan statue on the boardwalk (presumably in Key West). Har har. Funny guy, my Dad.

Good News!

I just brought Cleo home! She's fine! (well, ok, mostly fine. turns out an abscessed tooth was the cause of all the drama. they finally sedated her and got a really good look in her mouth and found it)

As much as I try to stay away from terms like 'fur baby' and referring to me as her mother, when we got home tonight I was thinking, in a lot of ways, she is like my kid. She's definitely family. And I was so happy and relieved that she's ok, all I wanted to do when we got home was sit and look at her. I mean, there are days when she's all I've got. And I don't mean that in a sad or lonely (or crazy catlady) sort of way. Just that she was with me in Cleveland and Charleston and now Atlanta. She's been my little trooper, moving around with me, being a constant when everything else in my life was changing. She's mine, in a really deep and important way.

So now I'm one of those people. The type who spend an entire month's paycheck on their pet. (and we're (maybe) not done yet) But at least I'm feeling better (even if Cleo isn't, though really, who could tell?). We ended up at the emergency vet again last night due to me freaking out because I realized that she was drooling a lot because whenever her mouth did that weird twitchy thing the left side was slow to come back up (and she hadn't eaten all day). The er vet agreed that what once appeared to just be something in her mouth bothering her now looked more like a muscle spasm and possible neurological problem, so they kept her overnight. By the time I left she was a mess - drool covered chin and chest, barely able to get her tongue back in her mouth. Oh, and elevated calcium levels in her blood may indicate a tumor. So I balled my eyes out all the way home, talking to mark, then woke up corrine and wept a bit more at her place before finally crashing in my own bed. The er doc called this morning to report no new developments over night except that her fever did go up a bit, which was something that would need to be monitored, and set me up with a neurological consult. So I picked cleo up this morning and transferred her to a new clinic, where they're going to run a battery of tests and she'll see a specialist. But what made me feel better is that when I took her out of her box this morning she was practically normal - all cleaned up, barely twitching, and happy to see me. While it was annoying to wait over an our to see the new vet, it was nice to just sit with her in my lap and not obsess over her behavior for the first time all weekend. The new place seems really nice, the doctors seem really nice, and I'm just going to try not to worry until I know if/what I have to worry about. She's in good hands.