last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2003-04-30 - 10:00 p.m.: breastmilk

the thing that sucks about working in a women's resource center... with women, for women, serving women's needs...is that i can't say "damn the man!" when i'm stuck working a 14 hour day.

*sigh*

but i guess, in this case, i can say "damn the men."

(specific men.) (not you.) (or else i'll kick your ass.)

explanation:

there's this thing on campus called "midnight screams" during finals week... it's been going on for years and years. my second year here it got crazy in the old army barracks and people dragged desks and chairs into the volleyball pits and set them on fire. for the rest of that summer we'd finish long games with ash in our shorts. this year's screams have taken on a different sort of flavor, with large mobs...97% male...gathering outside of south complex dorms, banging on windows and yelling "hey sluts, show us your tits," "we want titties," pound pound pound, grunt grunt, vomit, etc.

yay higher education.

i mean... GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK. the worst part is that the women who *do* end up pressing their oh-so-delicious mammary glands up to the glass are being ticketed/fined/arrested for indecent exposure. indecent exposure. IN THEIR OWN FUCKING DORM ROOMS.

when does the injustice end? (obviously not here. we've been pushing for three days for something to happen... meetings upon meetings and lots of angry calls from angry students who can't study, can't sleep and feel understandably harassed. the police say there's nothing they can do unless they start spraying tear gas into the crowds, which they won't do near the dorms. tear gas? what?? in the meantime, the best they can do is sit in their cars and videotape the windows so that they can be sure to catch all acts of indecency on film. for prosecution purposes, of course.)

(fuckers.)

in other news...

there is no other news. i've been at work all day. i'm tired.

goodnight. :oP

*do i need a disclaimer for this? yes? no? okay: "nothing in this everchanging diary of mine is true or false, and nothing i say may ever be used to harm or hinder my diagonal, horizontal, vertical or otherly-dimensional movement in this crazy little universe. thank you.

inward...outward