Feminist Anatomy Lessons

Tonight in my women’s studies class, one of the discussion facilitators asked us to draw (to scale) portraits of our clitorises (clitorii?). In light of a bizarrely unsettling class, I don’t have much interesting to say, except that I’m looking forward to the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner with all the gusto of someone who has been subsisting on cup-o-noodles and rice-a-roni for weeks. Oh, and a thoroughly scathing review of the parade will accompany (er, preface) said dinner. And ruminations on the terror of working retail on Black Friday.

First major holiday away from a family: two days and counting.