Deal Breakers

1. Educated.
2. Wants kids
3. Is okay with all of those kids being adopted
4. Feminist, even if he doesn't use that word for it
5. Pro Choice
6. Pro LGBT rights
7. Patient
8. Has a viable plan for his career and is working towards it
9. Not super religious
10. Is okay with me not being religious at all
11. Dog person
12. Affectionate
13. Can't be overly close with their parents, like to the point where they interfere with his life and/or our relationship.
14. No drugs!

I'm sure I'll think of some more later...

Lay Off T-Swift. Please.

Today, Jezebel had a short little snippet of Bazaar's interview with Taylor Swift in which she admits that she likes to be in a passive role in romantic relationships.  She said, " If I feel too much like I'm wearing the pants, I start to feel uncomfortable and then we break up."  In this particular article, Jezebel doesn't go after her too hard about this.  But they, and other feminist writers, have in the past.  Taylor Swift wears lots of dresses, sings sappy love songs and she likes to be submissive.  Cue feminist meltdown.

And you know what?  I think it's bullshit.  Feminism is about getting to be whoever you damn well please regardless of gender.  If someone was telling her she had to be soft and submissive because she has a vagina, I'd be mad.  But how is it any less oppressive to tell her she isn't allowed to be those things because she's a woman?  I'm not claiming T-Swift is a feminist icon or anything.  I have problems with some of her lyrics.  BUT she gets to be who wants to be.  If she wants her boyfriend to be more dominant in her relationships, that is her business.  As long as she doesn't go around demanding that all women be like her just because they are women, it's fine.  So lay off her for crying out loud.

Egg Update: The Evil Wand of Pain

As I have talked about before, I am an egg donor.  I just finished up my screening process last week.  I had two doctors appointments last week.  Both at 7:30am for which I had to get up at 6:00am.  Not fun.  The first appointment, on Monday, was an ultrasound appointment.  I got there a few minutes early, signed in and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  I waited 45 minutes for them to call me.  Now I know that doctors offices get backed up.  I understand that things happen.  But I had the first appointment of the day.  Or so I thought.  Apparently they don't limit the number of appointments they make at 7:30.  So there were a ton of people there.  I have a class that starts at 9:10 and I thought that to get to class on time I probably needed to leave around 8:30.  So I was antsy.

Around 8:15 they finally called me back.  They did apologize for making me wait and explained that a pregnant patient had had an emergency that morning that caused the delay.  So then, of course, I felt like a jerk for being so impatient.  So I'm trying to be extra nice and cooperative and the nurse tells me I need to go pee (actually she said "empty your bladder"  but that sounds weird, like my bladder is a suitcase or something).  She also tells me that if I have in a tampon, I need to take it out.  I thought that was a little weird since I thought they were just looking at my ovaries, but whatever.  I'm not a doctor, what do I know?  So I just followed her instructions and got settled.  Then the ultrasound technician came in and took out this big scary stick.  Seriously, huge.  She then informed me that this ultrasound was going to be transvaginal.  WHAT!!!!????  No one warned me about this.  I was not pleased.  I told her as much.  She told me that my coordinator was supposed to explain all of it to me.  But the technician took the time to tell me about what she was going to do and why.  She said she needed to check the lining of my uterus, to make sure everything down there was healthy, and then she needed to count the egg follicles in each ovary to ensure that I am fertile enough to donate.  I calmed down a little bit and she started the ultrasound.  At first it was fine.  It was a little bit uncomfortable, but nothing I couldn't handle.  Then she started to look at my ovaries.  It was awful.  She was jabbing me in the side of the uterus at this horrible angle.  The angle of entry of the wand was killing my poor little vagina and cervix.  And she was literally using the wand to shove the side of my uterus up against my ovaries.  It felt like there was an alien being trapped in my body trying to stab its way out.  Horrible.  The next day I had to put in my new Nuva Ring and it was so painful I teared up.  My cervix and vagina were sore and swollen from the ultrasound.

On Wednesday, I had my second appointment, this time for a physical examination with the doctor.  I again waited 45 minutes to be called back.  This time I was given no explanation for why it had taken so long.  The nurse took me to an exam room and gave me the horrible paper clothes to wear.  I changed into said horrible paper clothes and waited.  Another 15 minutes.  15 minutes sitting in a cold air conditioned room wearing nothing but a paper vest (if you can even call it that) with a sheet over my lap.  I was miserable.  I finally saw the doctor at 8:30, a full hour after my appointment time.  The exam was quick and painless.  They asked some health history questions and checked me over.  It think this visit was mostly for the doctor to see me.  I imagine I need the approval of an actual doctor to be an egg donor and this was the first time I'd met her (I applied in April).  Then they made me watch a video about the possible side effects of egg donation.  I was glad at first to watch this video.  If I'm going to do this, I want to know what I'm getting myself into.  But the video was designed for women who were having their eggs harvested, fertilized and then reimplanted.  Since I'm only doing the first half of that, I have no idea how much of it applies to me and how much is from the pregnancy itself.  I was taking notes and whatnot so I could ask questions when it was over.  They had also given me a release form to sign which said that I had watched the video and asked any questions that I had.  This confirmed my understanding that I was going to get to ask questions.  When the video was over, I signed the paper and opened the door like I had been instructed to do.  One of the women who works the front desk came and got my form and told me I could leave.  I tried to ask questions and she told me she didn't know any of the answers.  So I left.

At this point, I'm not sure how I feel about this whole thing.  I really do want to do this.  I want to help (and I need the money if I'm going to be honest).  I also know that all the things that are frustrating me are not the fault of the individuals or couples seeking to have children who would benefit from my donation.  And when you get right down to it, I'm giving them my eggs, not the clinic.  But I really feel like the clinic is struggling.  It always takes them much longer than promised to return my calls (Example: After my last appointment I was promised a follow up call in "a couple of days" a couple, as in two.  It's been a week and half, still no call).  I wait ridiculous amounts of time at every appointment.  And, the big one, they are not getting informed consent from me because they aren't informing me.  I did not consent to a transvaginal ultrasound until seconds before because no one told me it was necessary.  My consent form is useless because no one actually answered my questions.  I am planning to call my coordinator soon and insist on talking to a doctor or nurse who can answer my questions about side effects.  To do this I have to get shot full of hormones and put under for an extraction proceedure; I think it is reasonable for me to want to talk to someone about that beforehand.  Even so, I am willing to do this.  I am giving a stranger a part of my body.  Maybe I'm wrong here, but I think that's a pretty big deal.  All I want is a little respect during the process.  Respect for my time and respect for my body.  Is that so much to ask?

Defining Feminism

I ordered a great shirt today.  An awesome friend from Wofford posted a picture of it on her facebook (I'm not going to name her here because I didn't ask her permission).  As soon as she told me where to get it, I ordered it.  Here it is:

The quote on this shirt is from Cheris Kramarae.

I love this shirt.  I also definitely think this, treating women like full members of society, is at least part of what feminism is about.  But if I was asked to define feminism, this isn't what I would say.  This got me thinking about what feminism is.  So I looked into some definitions.  Most definitions talk about a movement or a struggle that seeks to help women gain equality to men.  I understand why that is.  I understand that feminism began at a time when women didn't have some of the most basic rights that were afford to men.  I get the historical context.  First wave, second wave, radical, liberal, all of that.  I know about that.  But I think we need a new definition.

Feminist scholar and author bell hooks examines the question of how to define feminism in the second chapter of her book Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center.  The chapter is called "Feminism: A Movement to End Sexist Oppression."  She criticizes the standard definition because she says that it is a definition formed at a time when the movement was composed almost entirely of rich white women.  Since rich white women were the movement, they defined it, and in so doing they excluded the concerns and voices of women of color and women in lower socioeconomic classes.  She calls for a redefinition.  She says "Feminism is the struggle to end sexist oppression.  Its aim is not to benefit solely any specific group of women, any particular race or class of women.  It does not privilege women over men.  It has the power to transform in a meaningful way all of our lives."  I really like her definition.  I like its inclusiveness.  I also like that she points out that we don't want to overpower men.

bell hooks also has a book called Feminism is for Everybody: Passionate Politics.  It is utterly fantastic.  (It's also pretty short and an easy read.  I own it if anyone would like to borrow it.)  I think that this book title is the best definition that I have come across.  Feminism is for everyone.  For all races, socioeconomic levels.  All sexual identities and orientations.  For men and women.  Feminism is not about lifting women up above men.  It's not even just about lifting women up to be equal to men (although that's part of it).  It's also about lifting men up where they are disadvantaged by their gender.  It's about making it safe for men to show emotion.  It's about changing a military system that requires our young men to register for a draft, but not our young women.  Think about that.  What does that say?  I think it tells those young men that their lives are worth less than mine, that they are disposable.  That's unacceptable.  I'm just as angry about that as I am about the pay gap.

I could talk about what I think feminism is for hours.  Seriously.  So I have had a really hard time trying to come up with a concise definition, but here is my try:  Feminism is a social and political movement that seeks to ensure that no person is restrained by gender bias or stereotyping from being themselves or from achieving all that they are capable of achieving.  Feminism is about destroying the boxes that patriarchy forces us into so that all people can move freely in all spheres of being, doing and expressing.

Maybe that's not a good definition.  And I know that a lot of feminist won't like that I have taken the focus off of women.  Let me make it clear why I did that.  I included men because as long as the dialogue about feminism stays in these gendered terms, it remains a struggle of "us" against "them."  It remains a fight.  But feminism really is for everybody.  I think if we can reframe this discussion, not in completely genderless terms, but in terms that are more inclusive, we can move from a fight to collaboration.

I would love to hear from some of y'all about this.  What is your feminism?  How would you define it?  Also, if any of you are interested in reading further about this topic, I have several books on it that you are welcome to borrow.  Or if anyone has any reading suggestions for me, please share.

In Defense of Greek Life

Over the weekend, I went to the gym (shocker, I know).  On my way in, I passed a group of women who I assume, based on their dress and proximity to the Greek village, were on their way to Sorority Rush.  The greek women of The University of South Carolina have been out in force, wearing their letters and repping their respective sororities like champs since the start of classes.  It makes me miss my sorority.  I know that some of you are thinking, "She's greek?  But she's so feminist and liberal.  I thought sororities were hazing-ridden trophy wife training grounds."

Look, I know that horrible things happen in greek organizations.  They also happen within sports organizations, student groups and classrooms.  Hazing sucks.  It's an evil, mean spirited cycle of hate and violence.  I support efforts by schools, universities and the legislature to stamp it out.  But I get so frustrated when people insist that hazing defines the greek experience.  I hate it when articles talk about greek women like we're all idiots for enduring hazing.  First, not all greek women experience hazing and assuming that your experience (or the experience of someone you know or read about) can be extrapolated to all of us is exceedingly unfair.  Second, even in the case of members of greek organizations who have experienced hazing, what makes you think it is your place to judge them?  The psychology of abuse is incredibly complex.  So please try not to judge others or look down on them for not leaving violent or oppressive situations.  You don't know what you would do in their shoes until you have actually been in their shoes.  Again, let me say here that I know everyone has different life experiences and thus every sorority woman and fraternity man will experience greek life differently.  I want to make it clear that I do not presume to speak for anyone but myself.

Because of the hazing issue, some articles I have read have come right out and said that being a greek woman and being a feminist are mutually exclusive. Apparently I can't be both.  But I am.  (I've decided this makes me a mythical creature of some sort, like an elf or a centuar.  I did always want to be Galadriel.)  So I call bullshit.  I'm a feminist (a radical feminist according to a survey we took in my feminist philosophy class).  I'm also a Delta Delta Delta.  I cannot and will not give up or compromise either of these identities.  So to help people understand this, I want to talk about some of the things that I learned from my sorority.

Things Tridelta Taught Me:

1. My opinion is valuable.  And the opinions of others are equally valuable.  Decision making processes that allow everyone to give input lead to the most agreeable and mutually beneficial results.

2. St. Jude Children's Research Hospital is seriously awesome.  Tridelta's philanthropy is children's cancer charities so in addition to volunteering at and donating to local pediatric oncology hospitals and programs, we had a partnership with St. Jude.  St. Jude is a research hospital so it is a last resort for some children who have conditions that are very hard to treat.  They NEVER turn a patient away due to inability to pay.  Tridelta has done some really awesome stuff at the hospital, raising 10 million dollars in our 10 in 10 initiative so quickly that we changed it to 10 by 10 (aka 2010).  It took only 6 (or 7?  I'm not 100% sure) years instead of the hoped for 10 to raise 10 million dollars.  I'm so proud to have been a part of that effort and relationship.

3. Always look for common ground.  Since I graduated from college I have come across fellow Tridelts in lots of place.  A law school classmate, a friend's girlfriend, someone in my group exercise class.  Most of these women were people I wouldn't have met, wouldn't have talked to, if we hadn't found out that we were both tridelts.  But I have often ended up finding that we had much more in common than our love for triangles.  When you give people an opportunity, when you open up, people will surprise you.

4.  Shirts with frockets are far superior to their frocketless counterparts.  This is simply fact.   (Frocket = front pockets or frat pockets depending on who you ask.)

5. I am strong.  Women are strong.  We do not need men to lead us, to teach us, to organize us.  We can do it on our own.  In this group of women, run entirely by women, we got shit done.  I don't just mean we planned parties.  We mediated disputes between members, we planned charity fundraisers, we competed in intramural sports, we generally kicked ass.  We supported one another through marriages, dating, break ups, pregnancy scares and abortions, stressful classes, graduate school and job choices, parent's divorces, deaths of family and friends and many many other major life changes and struggles.  This is a big one for me, especially when I am confronted with people who assert that sororities are "unfeminist."  

I was a member of the Gamma Psi chapter of Delta Delta Delta.  Sometimes it was frustrating, or annoying.  Sometimes I didn't want to go to chapter and sometimes I thought the leadership made bad decisions.  But overall, I think I came out of the experience a better and stronger person.  I also think that being a sorority woman made me more of a feminist, not less.   I'm not saying greek life is right for everyone.  I'm not saying that awful things don't happen within the greek system.  But I am saying, emphatically so, that I am a radical feminist greek woman and I'm here to stay.  

Legalize Gay

Recently, I went to D.C. to visit the wonderful Samantha Dahl.  I could tell you about the trip, but then I'd have to kill you.  Seriously.  But that isn't the subject of this post.  While I was there, Brittany, John, and I visited the Human Rights Campaign store.  It was pretty awesome.  For those of you not familiar with HRC, they are a LGBT rights organization.  The yellow equal sign inside a blue square is their symbol.  They had flags, shirts, bags, watches, bracelets, pins and pens, all sorts of stuff.  While I was there, I bought this awesome bag:

I am completely obsessed with it.  Since I got back from D.C. I have been carrying it around with my purse and a library book or two in it.

Those of you who know me well already know where I stand on the issue of gay rights but here it is for the rest of you.  I think that this movement is the civil rights movement of our generation.  I want to practice civil rights law when I graduate, ideally for Lambda Legal, the ACLU or South Carolina Equality.  But even if I don't get hired by any of those organizations, this is what I want to do with my life.  This struggle for equality, for love, is my calling.  I feel strange using the phrase "my calling" because of its religious connotations but no other words express how strongly I feel about this.  I think it is what I am meant to do and I won't be fulfilled doing anything else.  I simply can't sit and watch this battle, I have to be involved.

Now back to the bag...  Since I have been carrying my Legalize Gay bag, I have left it at home more than once because I didn't want to have to deal with people's reactions to it.  Thursday I went to dinner with my mom.  My parents are very very conservative evangelical christians.  They barely know me at this point in my life because it's just easier to not tell them things than to get the "You're going to hell" lecture.  I haven't told them what kind of law I want to practice because I know they would be disappointed but that won't change my mind.  If I tell them now I'll have to deal with their disappointment and their efforts to change my mind/save my immortal soul for the next few years.  Now once I am actually a lawyer I'll absolutely tell them but for now it's just easier to omit it.  That has been my general theory with my parents on a lot of things in my life (sex, drinking, the whole not going to church thing) and it has worked fine thus far.  On Friday, I took the bag to the Strom (USC's student gym).  While I was walking around the track between lunge sets, I kept looking over to where I had left it.  I wasn't terribly worried about it being stolen, I was more worried that someone would vandalize it or something.  Yesterday I babysat for my cousin's two little ones.  I traded my stuff over into a Tridelta tote before I went to get them because I didn't want to have to talk to my aunt and uncle about it.  I went to Skyline (a line dancing club in West Columbia) last night and left it behind.  Usually, I would just bring a small purse to Skyline but it was raining when we left so I wanted to bring an umbrella too.  I saw the bag on my bed and almost grabbed it so I could carry both things together but I stopped myself.  I was worried that someone would see it and try to bother me or mess with it.

So I have left my bag behind three times and one other time I have been concerned about its well being.  I've owned it for less than a week.  This whole thing has made me very conscious of the privilege of being straight in our hetero-normative society.  While I consider my dedication to the LGBT rights movement as a very important part of who I am, it is not nearly as basic as my sexuality.  I go out with my boyfriend to bars, restaurants, the grocery store, wherever and I don't have to worry about the kind of reactions we'll get.  I get to be proud of him, to show him off.  I was always aware of this privilege somewhere in my little brain, but this one week of "Should I bring the gay bag or not?" has made that knowledge so much more real to me.  LGBT individuals don't get to leave their sexual or gender identity at home.  For them it is more a question of "Should I hide who I am?  Is it safe to be me here?" and that fucking pisses me off.  They don't always get to show off their awesome significant others or even themselves.

My experiences this week have also made me wonder if I should be more honest with my parents about who I am.  To understand the extent to which this would hurt my parents, you need to understand what they expect of me.  They want me to be a good christian girl.  There are lots of definitions out there of what makes a good christian, I don't mean to say that the one I am about to put forth is right or wrong, it is just what my parents believe.  They want me to believe in God and Jesus his son.  They want me to accept Jesus as my personal savior.  They want me to not drink, smoke or cuss at all.  Also, no drugs.  They want me to go to church at least once a week.  They want me to wait until marriage (to a good christian man) to have sex.  They want me to take a passive and submissive role in my dating and marriage relationships as the bible says is appropriate for women.  They want me to be a conservative, pro-life republican who opposes LGBT marriage and rights.  I am almost* none of those things.  So when I say "I support LGBT rights" my parents will hear "I'm an unsaved sinner who is going to hell."  My mother will be devastated and my dad will be livid.  But is it fair, to them and to me, to not tell them?  Am I essentially lying by not telling them these things?

I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do but when I do, I'll let y'all know.

*I don't smoke or do any illegal drugs but that's because those things are super bad for you.

Egg Update: August 2012

This egg donation process is frustrating.  As I told y'all earlier, I had to go in and have blood drawn.  A lot of blood.  I handled the needle and all a lot better than I expected I would.  When I left, the lab technician (or nurse or doctor or whatever her title was) told me to make another appointment as I left for one more test with them. I also wanted to talk to my donation coordinator because I had about a million questions for her.  At the front desk, they wouldn't make me another appointment, they said they would have to call me back to do that, and my coordinator wasn't there so she was going to have to call me too.  That was last Monday.  On Friday, I left for DC.  I decided to give them until Tuesday, when I would get home from my trip, to call me back.
On Monday, a full week after my appointment, my coordinator called.  So I had a conversation about eggs and lady bits while strolling down the street in DC.  We made an appointment for my remaining lab work and I asked some questions.  I wanted to know what was next.  Where am I in the process?  How long will all of this take?  Will I have to be re-screened each time I donate?  She told me that I am still in the screening process.  Once all of my lab work comes back I'll have to do a full physical (gross).    Once all of the results are in and they're sure it's safe for me to donate, they'll match me up.  She said the screening process can take months and really depends on how busy they are, etc.  Once I get matched, donating would take a little over a month.  She said there are some recipients interested in me so there shouldn't be too long of a waiting period between the screening and getting started with donation.
I really do want to do this.  Honestly.  But I am so tired of waiting.  I started this process in April.  4 months later, I feel like I haven't really done anything.  It's frustrating.  And I am by no means a patient woman.  I just don't understand why it takes so long to return my calls.  I'm trying to give them something that isn't exactly easy to come by and they act like keeping me informed is a burden.  I know that medical tests and all are necessary and sometimes they take a long time.  I'm not suggesting they cut corners.  But how hard could it be to pick up the phone and let me know what's going on?  Frustrating.

Eggs (the baby-making kind)

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow.  With a fertility clinic.  Yep.  I applied to be an egg donor in March.  On April 25, the day after my 24th birthday, I went and took a personality test.  I guess to see if I'm crazy or something.  Then I didn't hear from them for months.  In late June, I got a call that the woman in charge of my case (file? whatever) was out of town and that she would call me in mid-July.  She finally called me 2 or 3 days ago (which was in August, may I point out) to make an appointment for me to come get blood work done.  So tomorrow I am going to a doctor's appointment to allow a nurse, who works for a very non-responsive doctor's office, to steal a bunch of my blood so that I can help a total stranger maybe have a baby.  I'm a little nervous about the whole process.  This is what will happen:

- First I applied
- Then the personality test
- Then some blood work
- Then I'll have to take birth control of some kind to sync my cycle with the recipient mom's cycle.  She'll be doing the same thing.  We'll do that so that when I ovulate and they take my eggs, she'll be at the most fertile part of her cycle which will maximize her chances of conception. (This part makes me think about the scene in Bridesmaids where all the roomies are laying around devouring cupcakes together)
- In the last few weeks of the process, I have to take hormones everyday.  Injected hormones.  You know, with needles.  I am terrified of needles.  Also, these hormones will make me a little crazy.  So I'll be even more of a raving lunatic/raging bitch than normal if that's even possible.
- On "the day" I'll go in, they give me some anesthesia and they'll go in and take out my eggs.  Hopefully the hormones will have caused me to release several so the recipient mom can have a good shot at getting preggers.  I'm still hazy on the details of the procedure.  I know they won't be cutting me open (they'll go in vaginally) but I don't know how anesthetized I'll be.  I'm not sure if I'll be completely out or what.  Hopefully completely out.

I'm very nervous about the needles.  But I figure, I'm 24 years old, I should probably face this fear.  And hopefully, the great Monica Ploetzke will be administering the shots which calms me.  I trust that woman with my life.
I'm slightly worried about how the hormones will affect me when I'm also dealing with the stress of school.  Everyone at school has already seen me cry in class and scream at people in the lobby so I doubt public opinion could get much worse.  But what if I can't handle it?  Law school really stresses me out in the first place and I can't imagine how I'm going to handle it while I'm juiced up.
I'm also a little nervous about the extraction proceedure.  I've never had real surgery.  I had my wisdom teeth removed in college.  The recovery was pretty smooth and it wasn't too horrible of an experience.  But I have never had real surgery or anything.  I've never been hospitalized, never been to the emergency room, nothing.  I have been so lucky to be healthy.  The idea of being unconscious and having doctors I don't know prodding up my lady bits is, at the least, disconcerting.
But more than the needles, more than the crazies, more than the procedure, I'm nervous about how I'll handle not knowing how it turns out.  There is a strict anonymity policy.  They'll know about me (health history, education, etc), and they get my picture but not my name.  I don't get to know who they are.  At all.  There is a 50/50 chance that the recipient mom will conceive through this method.  I don't get to know if she gets pregnant or not.  If she does, I won't get to know the baby's gender or birth day or name.  Nothing.  There could be a little me out there running around and I won't have a damn clue.  I'm afraid the wondering is going to make me crazy.  But I'm going to do it anyway, lord help me.  So I'm going to try to blog about the process in the hopes that it will help to ground me and remind me why the hell I decided to do this in the first place.

Bombshell Brunette Desperately Seeking Blonterage

Fun-loving 20something brunette seeking fantastic blondes to make up her blonterage for pool days, girls nights in and wild nights out.

These are a must:
- MUST BE BLONDE (natural or not so natural applicants will be considered but if you dye, do it well)
- Must have at least a bachelors degree
- Must be gainfully employed (or graduate student)
- Must love to dance
- Must love Wagon Wheel
- Must be willing to go in costume to non-costume parties (think Legally Blonde)
- Must live in the Columbia area
- Must not judge what other people eat
- Must love dogs

These are a plus:
- Can apply fake eyelashes to other people
- Is planning to reside in Columbia for the forseeable future
- Loves Target
- Wears a size 8 shoe (for tradesies!)

Please send your application, with picture, to rumleral@gmail.com.  If you are selected for an interview, you will be contacted.

Kids

I have always wanted kids.  A whole mess of 'em.  I've said for years that I wanted 6.  I've also always known that I would adopt most if not all of those 6 kids.  (And before you ask, no I am not adopted.  No one in my immediate family is adopted.  It's just always been my heart to adopt.  And it just makes sense:  I want a kid, you have one you don't want.  I'll take him or her off your hands for you and I don't have to wreck my vagina.  But I digress...)  In college I dated a wonderful guy who also wanted kids.  We planned a future together.  Marriage, kids, house with a white picket fence, the whole nine yards.  So there I was, 23 years old happily dating my boyfriend of three years with whom I had a solid plan for the rest of my life.  I knew what I was going to do (be a lawyer and mom) where I was going to do it (South Carolina) and who I was going to do it with (Chip).  Then we broke up.  The how and why of that are complicated and honestly still painful so I'm going to skip over that.  The point is the relationship ended and there went my perfect boyfriend and my perfectly planned future.
My current awesome sauce boyfriend does not want children.  At all.  Doesn't even want to consider it.  This throws a tiny wrench into my 6 kids plan.  I know I'm only 24, I have plenty of time to build a family.  You don't have to marry everyone you date, I know that.  I know that there are perfectly happy couples out there who know for a fact that their different life plans are going to eventually end their relationship.  And they're okay with that.  They live and love in the moment.  And that's great.  Really, it is.  But it's just not for me.  I knew that if I was going to have any shot at a happy healthy relationship with Charles there had to be at least a chance that we could go the distance.  Which meant that I had to consider whether or not I would be willing to not have kids.
So I started to think about it.  Why did I want kids in the first place?  Would I be a good mom?  The answer to the first one is easy: kids are awesome.  That's just a fact, people.  When you talk to a child you get to see the world in a whole new awesome way.  Their innocence allows them to see the good in everything and everyone.  And their ability to see the good in everyone allows them to love you in a way that adults just can't.  The love of a child is such a precious thing.  My god brother, Ty, will drop what's he's doing, walk over to me and hug me saying "Annie, you're my best friend" for no apparent reason.  I want that in my life.  Also, kids are hilarious.  Before his bath last night, Ty danced around the bathroom singing "Country girl shake it for me, girl.  Shake it for me, girl.  Shake it for me!" while doing some incomprehensible wiggling dance.  It was hilarious.  And last weekend when we went to the beach, Payton (Our friend Linda's son) almost made me pee in my pants on the way home.  Ty called out to me from the backseat "Annie!  Payton licked his shoe!"  "Licked his shoe?"  I'm thinking...wtf?  I thought for sure Ty was just making up some nonsense to get Payton in trouble and to get to talk again because they had been bickering for the first few hours of the ride so I had told them both to not talk at all until we stopped for lunch (I figured it wouldn't lat but it was worth a shot).  I turn around and Payton has dirt allllll over his mouth.  His chin is covered.  It looks like he ate a chocolate ice cream cone.  He had licked the bottoms of his Spiderman flip flops completely clean.  When I asked him why he had done that he said "They were dirty" as if that was the most logical thing in the world, as if we all licked the bottoms of our shoes to clean them.  I thought I was going to die laughing.  Kids are unintentionally hilarious and bring joy into the lives of the people around them and that's pretty awesome.
The second question, will I be a good parent, gives me more pause.  I am not a patient woman.  I can also have a temper.  I got both of these qualities from my dad.  And while I love my dad dearly, I am also rather terrified of him.  He and I no longer have a relationship because anytime I express an opinion he disagrees with, anytime I'm not who he wants me to be, he completely loses it.  Just loses his shit and screams and rages and is so angry he eventually literally can't form coherent sentences.  There is never any resolution.  So I just stopped talking to him.  I do not want to be that kind of parent.  But the thing is, I don't think my dad wants to be that kind of parent either.  I think he just can't help it.  He is who he is and I am his daughter.  I know I have some of the qualities that make him that way (he's also fanatically religious which I am not).  Who will I be when my child makes a decision I don't agree with?  Will I rage and yell and effectively kill communication like my dad?  Or will I be able to talk to them and try to see their point of view the way my mom does?  Is it even okay for me to have kids when I can't answer that question?  If I know there's a 50/50 chance that I won't be so hot at this parenting thing, should I even be allowed to try it?  I don't know.
In all of this thinking I've concluded that I don't know anymore whether or not I want children.  I do know, however, that I want to make that decision myself.  I don't want to just defer to my partner's wishes.  I'm way too opinionated for that.
Most of you (if anyone has actually read this far) probably think that I shouldn't be worrying about this now, it's too early.  I still have 2 years of grad school to finish so I won't be having kids for at least that long.  And you're right.  But I can't wait until then to make up my mind.  When I come to that moment, the moment I can have kids if I want them, shouldn't I already have my mind made up?  Don't I need to know where I'm going to know how to get there?  I don't know.  When I was 6 and wanted to grow up to be a ballerina, I knew I would also be a mom.  In high school when I wanted to be a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon (ha!), I knew I would also be a mom.  At any given point in my past, past-me looked into the future and saw kids.  Saw mommyhood.  Now that I'm reconsidering that HUGE part of my future, I'm feeling unhinged.  I know I have direction.  I'm in law school for christ's sake, my career is chosen.  But I hate law school.  A lot.  If I could be wrong about the mommy thing, maybe I'm wrong about the lawyer thing too.  And if I'm wrong about both of those things then who the hell am I and where am I going?  I'm not sure I know anymore.  Is there a such thing as a mid-20s crisis?

Things that I hate

1. Cold.  I hate to be cold.  Seriously.  I bring a sweater with me almost everywhere, even in SC summer heat because apparently triple digit outside temps justify turning the thermostat to negative gagillion.

2. People who do not speed.  Just get out of my way.

3. Listening to people talk about sports, especially during the game.  My boyfriend loves basketball.  He probably loves it more than he loves me.  I've made peace with that.  I've also made peace with watching basketball.  I even kind of like it.  (The fact that Kevin Love is one of the most beautiful men on the planet helps.  Go USA!)  But I cannot stand the stupid sportscasters who will not shut up during the game.  "He shoots!  He scores!"  Yeah, thanks.  I saw him, I don't need your eye witness account, okay?  My grand daddy, brilliant man that he is, watches baseball on mute.  

4. Needles.  Those motherfuckers are scary.  I know that at 24 years old I should be able to handle getting a shot.  I know they don't hurt that much.  I know that I need them to stay healthy.  But they still scare me half to death.  

5. Heights.  Also scary.  

6.  People who say "Oh I don't read."  You might as well say "I'm really stupid."  It would have the same effect with me.  Note:  This is not the same as "I don't have time to read"  which is valid especially in the grad school world.

7.  Law School.  Law school is a life ruiner, it ruins people lives.  I hate the Socratic method.  I hate the gigantic text books.  I hate that I can't ask questions.  Maybe, I don't want to yell at you and tell you you're wrong.  Maybe I just want to clarify your position.  Or maybe I'm just confused.  But no, if you speak in class you better make a statement and be read to defend it.  What the hell kind of way to learn is that?  I also hate the fact that every one you come into contact with is an argumentative asshole.  Not that I hate argumentative assholes in general as I myself am one.  But when you and everyone around you love to argue just for the sake of it, it's really hard to just sit down with someone and talk about yourself or your day or whatever which makes it extremely hard to make friends.  My boyfriend has managed to make lots of friends in law school and since he likes me, they let me hang out with them. But after two years with the same 80 people I still don't feel comfortable or like I'm part of the group.  I don't expect that my next two years will change that.

8.  Anyone who does not see the Mean Girls reference in #7.  It's right there people!

9.  People who write in Library books.  I don't care that you think this line is "important" or "Brilliant!"  Also, it's just disrespectful to write in a book that doesn't belong to you.  Shame shame.

10. Sports Cars.  Oh, your car can go from 0 to 1000 in 2 seconds?  I don't care.  Also, why buy a car that is designed to go really really fast when you have zero opportunities to drive it really really fast?  This is not the autobahn, kids.
11.  Men who try to impress me with their sports cars.  See above.
12.  Car Sticker Families.  What is the appeal here?  Since when has anyone wanted to be portrayed as a stick figure?  And the ones depicted in other shapes are even worse.  I jog past one house who put flip flop stickers on their van to depict their family.  That just doesn't even make any sense.
13.  Slut Shaming.  Leave me and my vagina alone.  My sexuality or sexual expression is absolutely none of your business, unless I'm sleeping with you.  Which I'm not so there.
14.  Children who scream "CHIHUAHUA!" and then run towards my dog.  No, you cannot pet her.  She's scared of you.  Probably because your hollering sounded like a war cry to her.  Leave her alone.
15. Business School.  It takes my boyfriend away from me, stresses him out, drains his energy and then sends him back to me exhausted with a shit ton of work to do.  Unacceptable.  
16.  Social work students who say "South Carolina is so backwards.  I'm getting out of here as soon as I graduate."  If you want to leave this state, that's totally fine.  If you get a job somewhere else or just feel a special calling to work in another location, by all means go.  But fleeing our state because it has problems is the antithesis of being a good social worker.  You are supposed to help, to effective positive change, to speak truth to power.  Isn't that why you chose the field of social work?  Don't turn your back on a state that needs you so desperately.  

17.  People who malign college greek life.  If you weren't greek, then please don't tell me how harmful sororities are for young women.  My sorority built me up and supported me.  Don't blaspheme Tridelta or you and I will have words.
18.  Speed Bumps.  I like to drive fast, get out of my way.  However, I love those "Speed Humps" signs because they are hilarious.
19.  People who look gorgeous at the gym.  That is simply not fair.
20.  Diet Soda.  If I want something without calories, I'll drink water.
21.  Orange.  I grew up in Columbia.  I've been a Gamecocks fan all my life.  I just have this mental block against the color orange.  

There are many many more things that I hate.  I'm good at hating (which is kind of sad, isn't it?).  These are just the things I could think of when I started.  It's kind of a downer to start my blog with but this is what was on my mind so this is what y'all get.  Maybe I'll make a "Things I love" list one day. We'll see.