I woke up at 5 for a few minutes because my lovely mother, who gets up at that time, tried to get me out of bed (off the couch) for breakfast. I mumbled something and slept until 5:40, when I opened my eyes with a start and forced myself to go to the kitchen.
During breakfast, my mom tried to get open a plum jam jar and failed. “Wir brauchen keine Männer! (We don’t need men!)” I proclaimed, and proceeded to pop it open and walk away in triumph to the sound of her surprised laughter…
When I lived at the City College dorms, my roommates and I often had this difficulty. Be it a jar of tomato sauce, some almond butter, or a jelly container, I refused to let chromosomes determine our lives. At first, I offered my ideas about feminist liberation by simply taking jars from my roomies while repeating the “We don’t need men!” mantra. If I’d taken a moment to look at our kitchen, I’d have realized that needing men had less to do with anything than needing one of those “shark” floor cleaners you always see in infomercials. But, hey, live and learn.
The way a flashback about kitchens should be...
Diana and Giulianna found this quirk slightly comical, but after I displayed my jar opening prowess, they sometimes came to me before giving up on a particularly pesky lid. Of course, sometimes it was necessary for me to swallow my pride and ask a male visitor to open something. I don’t like to remember those moments, for I am woman, and I like roaring a lot… Unless I’m visiting a boys’ room and randomly doing his dishes…. >< I can overcome stereotypes, but some dishes just need to be done.
Much Love (especially to my roomies and to boys that never make jokes about girls washing their dishes… *sarcasticface*),
Julia
P.S. The dorms=okay. The people in the dorms=best.ever. <3
