Saturday, January 30, 2010

feminist crazy-head

it's possible (or likely) that nobody is reading this. i'm okay with that. (though it might be cool.) but that's not the point. it was just a thought.
yesterday, i worked something like 13 hours? it sucked, not gonna lie. i consumed much more caffiene than usual. then i got back to my room, then i crashed. (but first i ordered pizza, because they bring it right to my door. i was a big fan of that.) (oh, and it was delicious. don't knock the unhealthiness.)
where was i?
oh, yeah. so i used to tease my boyfriend about packing his lunch one day, and totally putting mushy love notes in it. turns out, he loved that idea. which is awesome, because i love the idea. who doesn't want to find a love note from their love in the middle of the day? ( love a love note most days. total pick-me-up. thanks.) now, my boyfriend is my fiance. which is super, considering we have grown rather fond of one another. seriously. anyway, the teasing went from love notes (which he loved the idea of) to packing cute bento lunches (look it up if you dont know what it is, they're cool). and he loved that idea too! and i can play arts and crafts with food? uhh...yes please. duh. so for our anniversary, i sent him his first bento box. and i look around occasionally for fun rice shapers, or nori cutters, or whatever. stuff, you know?
(if i could figure out how to insert a picture [here] i would. my bad.)
which brings us to women's fear of becoming the fifties housewife. really? that's ridiculous. id rather make my hubby's lunch to save money and keep him healthy, and pack my own for the same reason. i'd rather spend my eating-out budget on doing fun things together. and a drive-thru won't give you a love note. (i hope.) so spending a bit of time on packing a lunch? kk, not sexist yet. i might even wear an apron. and red lipstick. and heels. and pearls. bite me, feminists, i want to look cute. (i can think of the things that this kind of outfit would lead to when hubby walks through the door and sees it. i'm not complaining, and i don't imagine hubby will either.)
i'm just saying. don't pull your feminist crap on me. i'm a happy little soon-to-be wifey. boo-ya.

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