I'm not sure how I feel about summer classes. On one hand, it's relieving to be able to put a four-credit class behind me after only four weeks. That literally equals out to one credit hour a week, which is, I have to admit, borderline absolutely ludicrous. I've appreciated our class discussions but don't feel like I've really benefitted or retained a significant amount of information. We don't even discuss the assigned readings. We just hang out, talk, and watch the occasional video about environmentalism (which, I guess, relates to contemporary humanities, and can be extremely moving...I got all bleary-eyed today in class watching clips about mountaintop removal and factory farming and felt motivated to construct an essay on "Why I am a Vegetarian" to reaffirm my values...that's on the back burner right now. Tragic how fleeting inspiration becomes). So, I am grateful and at the same time yearning for more of a challenge. Well, cut that last part.
I almost started working on my final exam right after finishing up my midterm (again, their proximity to one another is both glorious and preposterous), but then a cold beer called. Then some chocolate-covered peanut butter pretzels my roommate bought called even louder (why, God, do such things have to exist??). Then I found websites where women were creating art out of their menstrual blood (I was searching "contemporary feminist art"...go figure) and proceeded to scroll through blogs and photographs, caught between a gag and a laugh the whole time. Mostly gags.
I'm all about woman power, but come on. I saw a video where one of the artists was talking about holding a "red tent" affair where menstruating women gather inside some kind of red-colored structure and bond over their shared womanhood, or something like that. Basically it was just the artist and a drugged up-looking hippie and another girl who probably didn't speak English, lighting candles and talking vaguely about the sacredness of bleeding and motherhood. Honestly, I can't imagine a worse idea than getting together a bunch of women on their periods, especially in a red building since A) red is an angry color and B) red makes you hungry. I feel like most women would probably end up screaming at each other and would only want some chocolate and peace and quiet. Unless they were high, or an absolute psychopath feminazi who likes painting with vag-blood (aka "Moon Blood" give me a break).
I really don't know why I posted any of this.