Greetings from the desolate land of Any-place-in-Louisiana-besides-NewOrleans. We have reached an outpost called Covington, at which I have found very little evidence of intelligent life, and the situation is becoming desperate. My parents, my only companions, have fallen victim to a strange slumber and have been in its clutches for approximately one hour now. The time is currently 8:40 pm, and I have yet to become infected by the ailment, which leads me to believe that anyone under the age of 50 must be immune.
However, I seem to have fallen victim to a different sort of local illness. I find myself having strange urges I am not familiar with. My symptoms include following up to seven new people on Twitter, and sending a total of one tweet. Even more disturbing: I have the urge to send more. In the course of the last hour, I have had ideas and urges to execute up to 4 different tweets. So far I have not succumbed to these temptations to broadcast dull and unimaginative information about my personal life to those who do not give any kind of a shit, but I am grieved to report more complex aspects of my developing condition. A strange urge to turn on the television has overcome me. This sort of behavior is very foreign indeed, and I wonder if there might be some sort of spores in the air that are infecting my neurological functioning to the point that my brain desires to be force-fed either tasteless humor about casual sex and awkward social situations, or mundane images of stereotypical housewives and their over-hyped satisfaction with various cleaning products. Whatever the case, I am afraid I will need to check myself in at sickbay because McCoy seems to think I am displaying symptoms of a common local syndrome known as Boredom.
I will attempt to continue this log as long as my symptoms do not worsen.
I don’t deserve to feel like less of a feminist when I say that I am pro-life. This post isn’t meant to argue about when human life begins, but is about respecting other feminists. Just like how other women shouldn’t assume that girls who wear makeup only do so under the pressures of patriarchal society, they shouldn’t tell me that I’m a controlling bitch who couldn’t possibly understand the feminist movement.
Maybe I can’t speak for all those who take up the whole pro-life stance on abortion, but I can tell you that the reason I’m pro-life is because I believe life starts at conception, not because I want to control other women.