Four years ago today, somewhere in a castle in Ireland, ‘him’ and ‘her’ decided that we should probably become ‘us.’ Happy Anniversary, hon.

posted by paula 10:28 AM

My co-workers and me. Again.
Once again something that’s happened in the workplace has fueled a topic of discussion. And once again, while being trapped at a mid-morning breakfast and trapped in a co-worker’s cube my team and I have informally assembled into what appeared to be (insert pause for dramatic effect) a personal conversation.

Whilst it pleasures me beyond belief to discuss my ideologies with those around me, I have to openly admit that I’ve learned to stay well the hell away from my co-worker’s lives and personal convictions. I’ve found that once one opens that door, it’s never to be shut and said co-worker usually invites him or herself to plop down at your desk and discuss their medical problems, cross dressing issues and even ask you out on a date despite the fact that they know your boyfriend is at college and visits on the weekends.

And once again, this morning, my team and I, comprised of five women and one man – all of varying ages, marital and child bearing status – seem to continue on a conversation about our personal beliefs surrounding feminism and the duties of women in the household, which like other conversations, eventually gets around to men bashing. Believe me, I hardly participate and when I do, I am usually defending the opposite sex. And of course, said bashing only leads me to sink deeper into my convictions and when all is said and done, even when the token male of the group won’t stick up for his own sex, I think I might just be a little closer to being anti-feminist and more typically male chauvinistic without actually alienating any of my own rights.

But dear, sweet Jesus is this what I have to look forward to in life? Will my late twenties and early thirties no longer address the worries of how much sleep I get on the weekends or whether the washer is mysteriously and slowly eating one of each and every one of my socks? Instead, will I be forced to worry about if I’m staying true to my gender and whether my other half sees me as the child bearer and therefore keeper and doer of all things household, nurturing and dealing with daily food preparation? Will I be completely uninterested in whether the dorky systems admin is really sleeping with temp in human resources or how short the trashy administrative assistant’s skirt really is? Must we revisit such topics over and over again without delay or sensitivity to those around us that just want to download their Britney Spears mp3’s in peace?

posted by paula 5:17 PM

To sue or not to sue?

Well, the weekend went well. My parents and Ryan and I had a great time, although the time was short. We spent most of Friday afternoon and all of the evening together and said our goodbyes that night, since they were headed home the next day. And the apartment viewing went much better than I expected. My father seemed pleased, but not thrilled which isn’t the reaction I had hoped for but I can’t really say I’m surprised to see. He acknowledged that the cost of living in Minneapolis is much higher than that of Wausau, WI, which I took as a sign that he understood that whatever we’re paying, he knows that it’s much more than an apartment of our size would go for in my hometown. Still, it could have gone better if he added a little “You’ve got a nice place here” or “I like the apartment!” but I guess what we got out of it was just fine.

On a completely unrelated note, I was looking through this morning’s news when I stumbled across this story. It seems as though the doctors at a local hospital mixed up some lab results and mistakenly told a woman that she had a very aggressive form of breast cancer, needed a double mastectomy as well as extensive chemotherapy and radiation. It was only after the surgery that they discovered the error and told the woman that her original test results were negative for cancer cells. The woman is still contemplating whether she’s going to sue.

I can empathize on a much, much smaller level with this woman. When I was 23, I found my new OBGYN in the Twin Cities. Having just moved here, I was preoccupied with work and didn’t find a doctor immediately, so I was a bit overdue for my exam. Everything went fine, until the doctor started lecturing me on how horrible it was for me to wait “that long” to schedule an exam. She proceeded to ask me if I was planning on having kids and when I told her that I’d like some ‘someday’ she started warning me about how my eggs were reaching a point where they were getting old and if I waited much longer to have children, I was entering a stage where birth defects were becoming an issue. That ‘having kids at my age significantly increased the risks of having children with Down’s Syndrome.’ Imagine my horror, being told at age 23 that I needed to get on the stick (no pun intended) or my kids would be handicapped. At least that’s how I interpreted it.
Half way through another warning speech, I asked how all of this could be possible at age 23. It was then that she realized the error. My patient sticker had been put on the wrong chart and she thought she was speaking with Kathy Somebody-or-other, who was 35 years old and also having her first exam at that particular clinic that day.

And I don’t consider myself to be a particularly litigious person. In fact, I’m rather anti-litigious and bothered by how our society has become so willing to enter into litigation proceedings at the slightest wrongdoing. But there’s many a stigma and power put to a woman’s breasts and should mine ever be taken away ‘by accident’ I can’t say that I wouldn’t be extremely incensed about the whole thing.

Somewhere, between the awkward stage of puberty and sometimes shortly into college, a woman realizes the power of her breasts. That if beyond all reason, begging, pleading, crying and yelling that breasts, can somehow get whatever it is that needs to be done. Women are evaluated according to their size, shape and perkiness and on occasion, they’re a focal point for both sexes, either in admiration, envy or disgust. It’s because of this stigma that I find myself being a big proponent of augmentation surgery if it suits a woman and like many other women, contemplate the future of my breasts post motherhood. I can honestly say that like many others, if I had less than what I have, I’d probably get a few implants myself. But that’s neither here nor there. And beyond their appearances, one has to realize that a great majority of being a woman is centered around her breasts, both physically and mentally. They give us identity as mothers, allow us to feel in some way sexual and in result, nurture whatever children might come from that sexuality.

I’ve always had ones bigger than my neighbor and on occasion, I’m subject to my less well endowed friends asking me if I’ve ever thought of getting mine reduced. I find that generally, these women are preoccupied with how I manage to carry these things around, as if they’re baggage or something. At first I was a little shocked by these inquisitions, making bumbling excuses and feeling like I had been put on the spot. And then I realized that the tone in which the questions are delivered is a little alienating. Something like saying “It’s alright for me to be flat-chested, but not alright for you to be well endowed.” Considering the status of breasts in our society, I’ve always been amazed that women don’t feel a bit rude asking me such questions. After all, how would they feel if I returned the favor by saying “How ever do you survive without getting implants?” And it was then that I realized my real feelings on the whole subject: Breasts are so much a part of being a woman, that being without them would certainly throw me into an identity crisis – something that mastectomy patients go through on a daily basis. After all, isn’t it the number one apparently visual quality that defines us from the opposite sex? So as difficult as it is for me to say this: If I were in this woman’s shoes, I’d consider a malpractice suit, too. But again, one has to ask themselves “Why didn’t she get a second opinion?”

And apparently there’s a whole bunch of other women who feel the same way I do. They’ve started a little website called The Breast Chronicles.

posted by paula 4:35 PM