All the stars, they shine so bright in the front row

Oh man, it's already been a week since my last post and everything has collapsed upside downwards since then.  How nice.

Turns out that I don't have time to get my wisdom teeth pulled till after the new year since that is when I plan on getting hammered and eating shit, instead of eating through a straw and downing antibiotics.  Also, I am, of course, behind on my assignments, yet surprisingly on time with my readings.  Still not sure whether my tutorial leader has H1N1 still, but am not sure what to do if she does?  Ie. Do I fail? Does she fail? Does she get fired? Does she die?

Er, er.

No no, I wouldn't wish that upon anybody.

Another thing to note: drunken men are scary pieces of shit.  And I swear a lot more now.  Also - boys have problems. Big mental man problems.  They look like the fucking Undertaker (wrestling, and I know this because of my job, thank you very much) but sitting in a pink dress and bawling, with no teeth.

Absolutely no self restraint.  Is it society that has made me despise the view of a grown man crying uncontrollably? Highly possible, but also possible irreversible?  I mean, who am I to question society's standards (err...), and go against the common grain of humanity?  Well, I guess I am a writer. But it is hard to override instincts in yourself, they are programmed in there pretty well due to life experiences, stereotypes and learned biases against men and weakness. "Boys Don't Cry" is even a freaking Hollywood movie. I'm not sure what it's about, and it's possible that it is in fact about the opposite of this fact, or about a male ballerina or something, overall proving men's inherent femininity, but it doesn't stop the pressure on men at all. In fact, it probably increases it because now they feel like they have to prove themselves even more.

But I'm sure someone's writing a thesis about this in their bedroom somewhere, I'm just not the one to delve into subjects like this with no abandon. I need to be prepared. And to be honest, I have no interest in being prepared.  I have shit to do, and I don't care about why men are supposed to "not" cry.  I know that I don't particularly enjoy when my significant other bawls in front of me unabashedly and I am supposed to sit there and comfort him while he's telling me he wants to be alone and to go away.  I am just not that interested in situations like that, even accounting for his hard past.  Buckle up, bud.

Buckle up. And bring me a sandwich.

Mmmm.... ardent feminism, the stench is overwhelming. I also feel very strong when he cries.  What does that say about me?  Am I evil?

The possibilities are endless.

Ciao. Ak.