Seriously, people. Are public washrooms getting louder? And perhaps even violent? Those automatic flushes terrify not just my two-year-old daughter, they also terrify her mother. While the noise certainly offends, so too does the loss of my right (and responsibility) of actually flushing the toilet. No wonder we don’t vote in elections these days. Maybe what we need is an automatic vote counter that senses our desires.
If you’ve never seen My Fair Lady, this post will make little to no sense. Yes, it’s a smarmy musical. Yes, it’s sexist and offensive. Yes, it’s painful to watch Eliza choose Henry Higgins over and over again. (What about dear Freddy who adored her or decisive Mrs. Pearce who was robust and motherly all wrapped up in one take-charge woman?) But when I finished a first draft of my thesis last week, I suddenly felt like Eliza just after she has FINALLY said “the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain” correctly. She still had a long way to go on the whole (aforementioned sexist-) lady making project, but at least she had hope that she could do it. Getting those long A’s just right isn’t so foreign to seeing all seven chapters lined up in one’s file folder of computer memory!
For those who have no idea what I’m talking about or for those who just want to dance all night: