Final Blog Post

When I think of this past semester in our Women's Literature class I think of; hierarchy, power, identity, flowers, competition, social interactions and relationships, restrictions, freedom, hope, companionship, color, and exclusion. This semester has been full of deep thought and incredible discussion! My hope with my little short story is to incorporate some of the main themes of women's literature that we have discussed in class while attempting to write in the style of Virginia Wolf. I wrote this story because I am fascinated by the ideas and themes we came up with and how they are so easily found in every day life. Like Virginia, I will go through one day in the life of a regular teenage girl. Her thoughts, her despairs, and her experience.

beep Beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!! ugh, that is the worst sound in the world. Isn't there a better way to wake up? I can just imagine it now, flowers flying into my window; coming in as a tornado and lightly surrounding me. White lilies falling down softly on my face, the sunshine seeping through my window. Back to reality. I drag myself out of bed and slump to the bathroom. Why do I go through this routine every day of picking at my face and doing and redoing my hair and covering up my face with make-up? Oh yeah, because then I wouldn't get any attention; I would be dismissed, a nobody; an unwoman; and no one wants "to hear what the Unwomen are saying"(Atwood, 129). It's rainy- of course- welcome to London! I turn down Hall Road on my way to school. I have my hood up and my music playing. Man this backpack is heavy. What is the point of homework anyway? We spend 6 hours a day at school and then are expected to go home and spend 4 more hours doing homework. The unjustness of it all. If only Moira were with me she would understand where I am coming from. Oh goody, there is Claire, with her perfect hair and her perfect outfit. She is so shallow; I don't understand what goes on in that little head of hers. All she talks about is celebrities and the only thing she reads is magazines. Oh, I almost forgot, today is the 8th, Claire is having her oh so special and important party tonight. No wonder she has her smug gloating face on. I do envy her. "Simplicity is what I envy"(Mukherjee, 236). "Hey stranger!" It was Jyoti, interrupting me from my solitude. Well if it had to be anybody at least it was her.We walked together to school and made it through the excruciating 6 hours of pure humiliation. All school is is another place in the world to be restricted; another place where a hierarchy exists, another competitive arena, another group to be excluded by. The teachers always say that school is a place to open up and discuss your thoughts. Really it's a competition to see who can say the most insightful thought with the most text references. Lunch is Claire's heaven and my hell. Lunchtime only brings exclusion and submission. There's the football team knocking everyone in line and taking someone's table. My point has been proven. Their power is intimidation. And there goes Eve, rolling up her sleeves; standing up to them. I always admired her; brave enough to go against them. She and her friend Noami are kind of like Batman and Robin. They are the ones who stand up to the bad guys. They give hope to those of us who are shaken on our identity. They always told me that I "will be part of the family"(Mukherjee, 167). All that has brought me is false hope and a reminder that I don't know who I am. All I know is that I am a woman. I deserve more; I deserve white lilies; I deserve power; I deserve freedom; I deserve companionship. I hate being stuck in this box like a fly being swatted. Like an animal behind a cage, watching the world go on without me; always trying to keep up. I am a woman. I am woman. Claire is a woman, Eve is a woman, Jyoti is a woman, I am a woman. Doesn't that mean something? That brings a connection between us. This connection we have as women. We may be brutal to each other, but we have this underground connection. We bear the children, we are skewed by the world, we long for companionship, we are women. One can only hope that that will be enough to bring us together. Maybe someday; someday. Until then, I might as well go to the party and witness the world at work.