For some reason last night, I was intensely feeling the weight of knowing that I might be a spinster librarian in the making. I was in my car, driving west on 700, thinking thoughts about being a spinster, and what really did me in was: "Nobody is going to buy you spaghetti at some restaurant with low lights and lots of wines and then hold your hand while you walk back to the car."
And then, the punk feminist bra-burning society-reviling Madi that I actually didn't know I had in me slapped me across the face and said, "Buy yourself some spaghetti for crying out loud! Take a book!"
There might have been an expletive in the first sentence when it was a thought in my head. Punk feminist Madi is seriously frightening. I'm going to have to do something about that.
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