I know I don't have a lot of friends on here, so the four that I do have should totally check out this article on Salon.com:
It's really insightful commentary on the lack of intelligent successful role models for young women. It's funny, because I wanted to write a blog about this and here's an article that completely mirrors my thoughts on the subject... Check it out!
Today is my twenty-fifth birthday. This morning at around 9;34 a.m., I was pulled over because my tags are expired. I explained to the officer that I already got a ticket for this, and that I was planning to get new tags with birthday money, but this did not matter. The officer gave me a ticket for $7.50. I burst into tears and drove away. As I was quietly weeping into my steering wheel, the car behind me honked loudly b/c I didn't move fast enough at the light...then they proceeded to flick me an obsence gesture, to which I gladly returned. Then they pulled up in front of me and started screaming obcenties. If this wasn't bad enough, I got home and found a bunch of overdue rent notices because my landlady missplaced the rent check I gave her a week ago. All of this before 12:00p.m. and pretty much all I want to do is stay in bed all day to prevent anymore depressing episodes. If this is any indication of how my 25th year is going to be...okay that's just too scary to contemplate...I'm not even going to go there.
I believe with all my heart that credit card companies are the spawn of satan. First I'm charged $60.00 for paying after 3:00 p.m. ON THE DAY MY PAYMENT IS DUE and next I'm charged $30.00 for going over the limit because of a $4.00 charge THEY tacked on for payment protection...the nature of the industry itself is rooted in the weaknesses of human nature (here's all this money you can spend right now and pay for it later) and the fact that I continously recieve advertisements for new credit cards in the mail when I am a poor student and already over my head in debt is evidence enough of this. Some day I'm going to make Captialone pay for all my misery. Those lame commercials with David Spade are complete B.S. It's the worst credit card company I've ever been involved with.
Last night I watched the new documentary "Grizzley Man". It's the true story of a washed-up hippie man, Timothy Treadwell, who went to live with grizzley bears in the Alaskan wilderness. He lasted 13 summers, or "expeditions", as he referred to them, and then was, appropriately, eaten by a bear. "Grizzley Man" raises a lot of thought-provoking questions, like, should normal people try to live side-by-side with wild grizzley bears? Was Treadwell violating the unspoken laws of nature by fraternizing with the bears? Was he just plain crazy? Did he regret his "expeditions" while being consumed by the bear? And most importantly, should I feel sorry for this man and his untimely death at the hands of a hungry bear? The bear, afterall, was hungry, searching for food in the last months before hibernation.
A very provacative movie, with great footage of Alaska, as well as insightful commentary by Treadwell ("I love these bears, I'll die for them, I love these bears, I love these bears...") and the German producer who put the footage together.