In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

Commune

Tomorrow the school year starts for yours truly, the last semester of my undergrad years if I manage to eke out without too many mistakes or bluffs. I am so grateful to go up north and visit with friends this weekend before the dreaded semester begins.

My friend, coolest single mom alive, invited over a bunch of other single moms on Friday night. We sat around chatting about all sorts of family, work, and personal issues while the kids played and dumped an entire can of parmesean on their bowls of spaghetti.

Saturday we headed off for her boyfriend’s parents’ mansion (technical term since they only live there watching the mansion for a world-travelling playboy) and spent the next seven hours soaking in their massive swimming pool. I mean, the mansion had it’s own island. The entire house was filled to the brim with enormous fossils, hunks of jade that easily weigh 500 lbs., and beautiful, original artwork. For someone as unimpressed by massive displays of wealth as I am, you could, perhaps, color me impressed. The art will get me every time.

We also managed to go thrifting, hitting up numerous stores for cheap items. I picked up a few trashy nightgowns, some pool toys for the kids, and a 3/4 length jacket that looks like it belongs in a blaxploitation movie. Me and Pam Grier! Like sisters! I digress.

The most important thing was that Ethan and I had a blast. Chances are, this semester won’t afford the kind of time or money to enjoy ourselves like that for awhile. Part of my good time was the ability to commune with other single parents. I simply don’t know many here, and most of the single parents I know are either busy as hell or trying to bootstrap their ways into or out of drug addictions.

I need more true peers and I know it.