This day stands as quite an accomplishment for the women’s movement. It ususually turns out to be very empowering and motivivating for the women who get to participate in the day’s festivities. However, I have to ask, is this a happy day to celebrate womanness? Is there a woman’s movement or is it fractured much like the idea of identity is broken by people like me? The resulting disharmony from unified and idealistic commitments made on this day usually dishearten me. I never get too worked up over the day because for me, every day is international women’s day. For most of us ovarian-types every day includes work (most doing 2 full time jobs) and continuing to recieve less earnings than men for doing exactly the same job. Lookey here:Women’s Earnings as a Percentage of Men’s, 1951–2006(for year-round, full-time work) Year Percent1956 63.31966 57.61976 60.21986 64.31995 71.4%1996 73.82006 76.9Source: U.S. Women’s Bureau and the National Committee on Pay Equity. Reproduced by InfoPlease with permission of the National Committee on Pay Equity.These stats don’t make me feel so good, and I don’t think it was the lobster I had for dinner last night. Additionally, I am thinking all are surprised that I have not chimed in on this historic primary election cycle. With a black man and a white woman in the running for a new president against my home-stater — war veteran. I have remained mum on the topic because I remain a frustrated voter. I am sure I am not the only one. As a radical feminist. I should be voting with the shadow of my ovaries in this shell of the womanly body I have. Yet I feel like I already voted for Hillary. I voted for her and she blew it. I know I should be supportive of all the good feminine ideals about ‘standing by her man,’ but I would have A LOT more respect for her if she left the cheating bastard. Obviously the bigbottomed tartlet has her own guilt, but it was slimey to negate the presidential responsibilties of abstaining from sexual meanderings with a person whom was employed by his staff. Plus, I equate cheating with lying which is a bad, bad deed as far as I’m concerned. Lying is the worst sin. To be caught in a lie is to break the bond of trust. When I trust another it is a sacred relationship. I do not trample such commodities which are in limited supply in my life. So when Bill ran for president the first time, I was impressed with his wife and figured if a dufus like him could be with a smart and sassy woman like her, then maybe there was something to him and I waited in line for 6 hours to vote that day on a cold DC morning. I did not misspend my vote during the second Bill presidency. So who am I voting for now? I don’t know. Usually I write in my husband’s name – NOT because he should be president (heaven help us all if that were to occur…), but because it’s a throwaway vote. I believe in the power of the vote, even as I know it is the electoral college who determines our president and in no way related to my individual ballot. I just believe that the act of voting sends a public message and it’s power is directly related to the number of people who care to partake. And I don’t trust any of the candidates right now. I have admired the work of Obama for many years, but I just don’t go all the way toward trust because he seems too good to be true. And McCain’s straighttalk express is so full of crapola that my hipboots are wearing thin. So what is a feminist mama to do?! I just don’t know yet, but …… on Internat’l Women’s Day when it feels like the world is on the brink of some amazing change – it seems as though I should be looking at the state of being, beyond my own backyard to figure out what will really effect positive change, because we ain’t cuttin’ muster right now as far as I can see. And I feel like we need some of the good stuff right now. Let us not lose sight of the possibilties even as we work hard each day for our share. Stave off disappointment and try to accomplish those laudable goals that get established (or renewed) today.

a bitchin feminista mama at the intersection of political quagmire and real life.

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