Make Your Choice

You probably know this, because you are very clever and worldly (and I'm a sycophantic boob), but   Any Other Woman was celebrating International Women's Day yesterday with hourly guest posts on the topic of choice.  It's lucky for everyone involved that I would never ever have been asked to contribute, because I probably would've written something that sounded vaguely like a late-night infomercial.  Like:

TRACY, LOOKING FLY YET DIGNIFIED IN A PUSSY BOW BLOUSE AND BLAZER:  I've spent most of my life suffering from indecision.  Even the smallest choices left me baffled and disappointed in myself.  Friends and family tried to help, but it only made things worse.  I tried to tell myself that I was just that easy-going, but that wasn't it.  Something was missing.

But finally, thanks to the POWER OF SELF-ESTEEM, I realized it was because I worried too much about what other people would think of my choices!  Now, I just force myself to make decisions and state opinions or preferences!

(Shots of Tracy asserting herself in various situations, flashing a glinting, debonair smile at the camera)

I hate pineapple on pizza, but if you're set on it for some freaky reason, we can go halfsies on toppings!

No, I do not want to play chess; it is boring and snobby and I'd really rather step on a fire ant hill while grizzly cubs lick honey off my bare flesh!

I understand that a daily diet of jelly beans, Taco Bell, and energy drinks will lead me to an early grave; but at least I'll die with a contented, bloated belly, dammit!

We're gonna need a bigger grave.

I tried to celebrate International Women's Day by planning a lesson for my kindergarteners to switch basic gender roles.  But the kids ended up taking too long eating their afternoon snack, and then they chattered through Never Spit on Your Shoes like little, squawking birds that wake you up at ungodly hours on weekend mornings and you wish - oh, how you wish! - you could just reach out the window and wring their tiny, brittle necks!!

...Anyway, I had to keep stopping to shush them with my sternest hiss, so all I got to tell them about International Women's Day was that they should give their mommies and grandmas an extra hug and kiss when they went home.  Another day for that lesson plan, maybe.  Although in general, they really seem to like play-dough a LOT more than exercises in social justice.  So we'll see.

Image via eportfolio.

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