12.07.2007, 10:48 am
Yes, the time has come again when classes at UVA begin to take turns penetrating my narrow anal opening using gigantic dicks the size, shape, and temperament of volcanic formations. And, as always, I am grateful despite my bitching.
The light at the end of the "wake up every day at 7 a.m. in the summer to sit for two hours in plastic chairs in a seminar class" tunnel is the fact that my professor is very active, outside of academics, in child advocacy. As she gave an introduction about her background she informed us of a few internship opportunities essentially helping her to achieve her dreams. One of these opportunities to help someone else achieve a dream involves working at a child advocacy center she helped to establish in order to streamline the process of compiling data for analysis in order to present an efficacy report. Certainly I would like to partake in that shit. Of course, immediately after noting this to myself I blurted out a fucking moronic response to a question and spent the subsequent two hours trying to compensate for it. I must now memorize every article, respond to every question, maintain constant and unwavering eye contact, arrive to class early and stay late, and knock every assignment out of the fucking park. I am running out of time to find research work and to establish some connection worthy of a recommendation.
I was certainly not permitted to forget the fact that every UVA student and their fucking gardener wants to go to grad school. I GET IT. I fucking get it.
Thankfully, I was rewarded for my major change with a class primarily of men. Relief washed over me. Unfortunately, the class is inexplicably comprised primarily of men who are on UVA's soccer team. Now, the only UVA students who are more vapid than the females are the male athletes. Did I hit the jackpot? I don't know. Which is worse, hearing about shopping and makeup or hearing about athletic drills and drinking? Of course they don't even have the decency to talk about sex around me, because obviously I am a woman and would thus take offense.
Which leads me to a conflict I have with this course. It is called "Family Violence Across the Lifespan" and includes intimate partner violence. (violence is a blanket term to include anything harmful, physical or otherwise) There is such a defensive, overprotective reaction to men hitting women that it seems to preclude the possibility that yes, in some cases, a woman getting the shit slapped out of her can have either no effect or a beneficial effect. The sexuality of a BDSM relationship is often extended to a lifestyle which seems to indicate it should be acknowledged outside of simply being a fetish. Some relationships thrive on either corrective measures such as verbal remarks or physical consequences. I am curious about how/when the line is crossed in terms of consent to abuse. Certainly some abusive relationships must use this as an excuse, and members of other relationships may not realize their lifestyle preference is actually abusive. There is a difference. My professor, and the other women in my class, bristle at the idea of a woman being punished or trained using any form of operant conditioning. I think it's far more oppressive to limit a woman's ability and desire to pursue personal satisfaction, as a result of your own biases and "icky feelings", than it is to simply slap her across the face. I thrive on the comfort and reassurance of corrective measures, in many instances, and the violence itself only punctuates the consequence. I like BDSM. Do I like abuse? I will mention this at some point in the semester...eventually. I thought it more appropriate to, you know, wait until at least the first fucking day is over.
Ten minutes into class this non-soccer player guy, certainly in the minority, made a family violence joke. I was the only person who laughed. He got railed on behind his back during the break. Did my laughter reflect poorly on me? I don't know. I also don't know that I particularly care. It was a funny comment considering the juxtaposition of the context welcoming the discussion and its role in our culture as being taboo.
You just can't tell me that family violence is NEVER funny. Come on. There is nothing that is NEVER funny.
Apparently I'm also moving into University Place. Today I walked home. It was a quiet, peaceful 30 minute walk in relatively nice weather. After I move to UP I will no longer be able to walk to campus, but thankfully will be graced with the heavenly opportunity to partake in the complimentary public transport no doubt in the careful hands of a crowd of individuals on par with UTS retards. I mean assholes. I mean drunk drivers. I meant retards.
I didn't go to the gym today because I only got two hours of sleep last night. I'm sure I could've pushed through it, as I have before, but while the spirit is willing...the flesh is so weak. NAP TIME!!!!!!!11111111
