Here's why I love Joss Whedon. That makes me cry with the love and the truth and the just plain right-fucking-on-edness.

Man. You know this has been on my mind lately because of some recent writing I received from my great great great world lit. students. I, inadvertently, made a pretty women-heavy reading list for the class this semester. Pretty heavy, meaning about 1/2 of what we read was written by women. 1/2. But that translates into a feminist class, apparently.

Anyway. My students are great and have enjoyed most of the readings. That is, until we got to Mina Loy's "The Feminist Manifesto." Which, I grant you, is kind of cheesy. But oh man--I got so many journal entries just beating up on women and the femi-nazis--I didn't get this kind of angry entries when they read Harriet Jacobs's Incidents in the life of a Slave Girl or Gilman's "The Yellow Wallpaper." Anyway. It's just. I agree with Joss Whedon. I really really do.

Quick life update: still pregnant, classes have just now ended (as of 12 pm today, for me--though I still have students turning in work and will be grading like made for the next few days), still not finished with the house (but we're close). We're completely broke. And Ossie has started in with sentences--it's so cool. I mean, these aren't exactly grammatical sentences. But instead of saying MILK MILK MILK and signing it and trying to pull me to the refrigerator to GET THE MILK, now he has started saying MILK OSSIE WANT MILK. MOMMA. MILK. OSSIE. WANT. And then he tries to pick me (which he can almost do, incidently--that boy is strong and sturdy and indescructable as a tank, I swear) and carry me to the refrigerator.

He's also magically shedding diapers. He hates 'em. So he takes them off and then says RUN FAST PEE OUTSIDE and off he goes! He signs "run fast" and "outside." Cute.

That's it for now. Grading!