Monday, November 17, 2008

It burns...

Dear feminist lesbian in my English class,

I'm cool with the whole woman empowerment she-bang. I like being able to hold a job, and God knows what kind of trouble my snarkiness would've gotten me into in the 1700's. I'm cool with you liking the lady-folk. Do what makes you happy, sister. (sista? sista feels more right.) And even though I am quite conservative, I think Prop 8 (along with all similar legislation) is a crock of shit.

However, I take issue with you searing the idea of Emma and Miss Taylor being lesbian lovers in my mind FOREVER. It was not enough to merely dangle the idea, oh no, you had to describe them sharing a bed, and use adjectives normally reserved for supermarket love novels. You know how in 27 Dresses, the main character says she feels like she just found out her favorite love song was written about a sandwich? That is how I feel right now. When we were given the task of writing a parody of the first chapter of Emma, that was about the last thing I was expecting. Now when I write any of the no doubt countless essays on Emma that lie in my future, that idea will always be lurking in the back of my mind.

And that? Is so not okay.

The apparently too close-minded sorority girl across the room from you


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