Cristy

This is a bit of a short ranting before Physics that I'll come back and edit later.

To those of you who compete physically with men - when you mess up, be it a stumble, slip or drop, do you feel as if its usually accredited to your sex? Does it drive you insane? If so - me, too. My ex plays ping-pong alot - he's gotten quite good at it with obsessive, incessant practice. At one time we were ping pong equals - now he's much better than I. From time to time, I play with him - and when I lose, it drives me insane. (Part of the reason he's better than me - Whenever I used to play with him in the college den, the incessant sexist comments drove me out. I've seriously almost cried because of it. Sad, but true. The people in there would never let me forget my gender when I competed. They'd either highlight it with 'Don't let him beat you.' or 'You go girl' - as if I was beign completely audacious to even step forth in competition with a male ... or they'd highlight it with 'Don't let a girl beat you' toward the ex or - 'You got beat by a girl'. Thus, I stopped. I feel weak for stopping, but that only makes it worse. ) I was just in there - and I bent over to catch a ball that flew my way and missed. My ex promptly jumped toward me and grabbed it. I don't know what it was about that that's gotten me on edge. There was a big crowd, perhaps.... Something about it, however, did. It seems petty, yes, and maybe I'm just paranoid, but I felt a bit of ... I really don't know what it was ... condescension, maybe ... from the eyes trained on me.

This is 'Wild Grapes', by Robert Frost. This poem was the topic of my final paper. I just wanted to share it with you guys to see if anybody else feels the feminist twang of its tone.

What tree may not the fig be gathered from?
The grape may not be gathered from the birch?
It's all you know the grape, or know the birch.
As a girl gathered from the birch myself
Equally with my weight in grapes, one autumn,
I ought to know what tree the grape is fruit of.
I was born, I suppose, like anyone,
And grew to be a little boyish girl
My brother could not always leave at home.
But that beginning was wiped out in fear

It's taken me a while to compose my first blog entry - partially because I'm a perfectionist and partially because I've been so incredibly busy getting ready to go back to school this fall that I've hardly had time to think in between my comings and goings (apartment searching, supply shopping, FAFSA scouring,etc.). Now I've a few hours to sit and think, and I've come upon my topic: physical disparities between the sexes and the degree to which sexual discrimination is accepted in public opinion.

Let me preface this by saying that this is a very touchy subject to me. I live in Alabama, a land where, in my experience, the whole chivalry deal (in this post, I'll adress the physical aspect of 'chivalry') is alive and kicking - if subtley so. Perhaps it's like that everywhere..... in that case, I'll soon be living alone in the Australian bush somewhere. If it is as I have hoped, and such archaic traditionalism and sappy, patronizing "respect" is only so common around here because it's the Bible belt and pretty much everything here is traditional, praise be!